The screams faded into the background.
Zack had learned long ago to let them. Noise was just distraction. Distraction got you killed.
He crouched behind the overturned bleachers, sliding a fresh magazine into the guard's pistol. The System interface hovered faintly in the corner of his vision, glowing like a predator's eye.
> [Tactical Points: 0]
Earn points by eliminating hostile targets. Reward scales with threat level.]
A student staggered into view, her mouth dripping crimson. She lunged. Two shots to the skull dropped her cold.
The System chimed.
> [+2 Tactical Points]
Zack smirked. Simple enough.
And just like that, the smell of blood and cordite dragged him back—
---
Two Years Ago — Northern Wastelands
Sandstorms howled across the ruined city of Darakesh.
Zack crouched in the shadow of a crumbling minaret, his suppressed rifle steady in his hands. Below, a convoy of black-market warlords was making its way through the main road, guarded by trucks with welded armor plates.
"Target's in the third vehicle," his comm crackled. "Clean shot, then extraction. Ten grand for the kill, another five for the package."
He didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Zack breathed out slow, squeezed the trigger.
The warlord's head snapped back, a fine red mist blooming in the hot air. Chaos erupted below — guards firing wildly, trucks swerving.
He didn't stick around to watch. He was already moving, sliding down a broken wall, boots silent on the sand.
But the job didn't go clean.
Halfway to the extraction point, he heard it — the thin, piercing cry of a child.
She couldn't have been more than eight, hiding behind a burned-out sedan, clutching a ragged doll. Her eyes were wide, terrified. Behind her, a merc in Zack's squad raised his weapon.
"Orders are orders," the man growled. "No witnesses."
Zack didn't think.
Two shots — one through the merc's visor, one into the ground beside the girl.
"Run," he told her. She did.
The squad leader didn't forgive that.
Neither did the people who'd paid for the mission.
By nightfall, Zack was hunted by his own crew.
Three days later, he was gone — no more mercenary contracts, no more wars. Just a forged ID, a quiet city, and the hope that the past would stay buried.
---
Present Day — Riverside High
A fresh wave of zombies crashed against the gym doors.
Zack shook off the memory, leveled his pistol, and picked off the ones getting too close.
The System pulsed again:
> [Tactical Points: 10 — First Weapon Unlock Available]
He could almost hear the old squad leader's voice in his head: You can't outrun war, Zack. It always finds you.
He grinned, cold and sharp.
"Then let's make it interesting."