Each rooftop had waist-high brick walls, more symbolic than practical.From above, the building looked like a soccer field divided into four segments.
Twin moons—one green, one pink—hovered in the sky like the glowing eyes of a devil-cat.Muffled bursts of gunfire echoed across the rooftop as four M4 rifles spat suppressed rounds in a chaotic rhythm, like a drumline with no sense of timing.
Gantsuke cracked open his second beer and turned to Limo, who was lounging on a beach chair nearby, squinting through binoculars.
"Think they can actually kill anything?"
He spoke without taking his eyes off Izzy's yoga-pants-clad backside as she leaned forward, aiming over the wall and firing at the street below.
"If I were a zombie cop, I'd only charge them with attempted murder," Limo sighed, lowering the binoculars in defeat.
The street below was crawling with undead.But as Limo said—they were all still standing.
Izzy was the best of the bunch. Her shots hit, but never the head.Molly, for some reason, had a vendetta against trash cans and light poles.Mari's bullets seemed magnetized to every parked car in the vicinity.Limo was just grateful Gantsuke hadn't parked the Hummer in her line of fire.
Meenda, though… She looked like she was trying to repave the street with bullets.Every shot hit the asphalt, punching holes so deep the city's highway department would have a heart attack.
"You worried about wasting ammo?" Gantsuke asked.
"I sell guns," Limo replied with a grin. "I know where to get more. Better they miss up here than down there."
"Sniff…sniffle…"
Mari's sobs brought the firing to a halt.
Gantsuke shared a glance with Limo, then stood up and walked over to her.
"Hey, you okay? Did a shell casing hit your eye?" he asked, kneeling and placing a hand gently on her shoulder.
She shook her head.
"I'm just… useless," she whispered through tears.
"You saved all of us—and I can't even shoot a gun. I can't protect anyone… not even you…"
She buried her face in his chest, weeping.
Limo muttered under his breath, "Ah. I see."
Of course—the sweet cook had watched Gantsuke risk his life like a hero from some Hollywood film.It had hit her harder than she realized.
Izzy, Molly, and Meenda felt the same.None of them wanted to be dead weight anymore.They were trying—really trying—to learn.But it was rough. Even Izzy, with her prior training, hadn't landed a clean kill tonight.The best she'd done was blow off a few limbs.
"Don't beat yourself up," Gantsuke said, ruffling Mari's hair.The scent of freshly washed shampoo hit him—warm, comforting.
"It's not unusual to miss. Daylight and nighttime shooting are completely different.Even soldiers I trained shot like crap after dark."
Limo lit a cigar. "Damn right."
Gantsuke chuckled.It reminded him of a shooting range he used to know—run by a guy named John Victor, up in the mountains.
"That's enough for tonight," Limo said, turning to head back to his favorite beer-drinking spot.
"I'll stay and practice a little more. If that's okay," Izzy said.Sweat glistened on her brow and across the pale skin visible beneath her snug tank top.
"Be my guest," Limo said."Gantsuke, stay with her—but don't let it get too late. You've both got jobs to do tomorrow."
"Got it."
Gantsuke helped Mari to her feet, gently.Molly and Meenda took over, leading her back downstairs.
Soon, the rooftop was silent—just Gantsuke and Izzy under the twin moons.
"You shot well," he said, watching a zombie below crawl with one arm and a missing leg, like a deranged worm.
"Still not good enough," she muttered, raising her rifle again.
"Lower your shoulder," he said, stepping beside her.He placed his hand lightly on her right arm, guiding it down.
She stiffened.
His presence. His touch. It was too close.Ever since what happened with the Amun bastards, she hadn't let anyone touch her—not really.Her body recoiled at the memory, even now.
She turned her head quickly to shift away—only for their noses to brush.Accidental. Brief. Still electric.
They froze.
The wind from the sea brushed against their faces. The light from the twin moons danced in their eyes.His gaze met hers, steady and gentle.
Her lips quivered slightly—just enough to make him lean in.
But this wasn't rough. It wasn't rushed.
He kissed her softly.
No words. Just warmth.
Her fingers trembled around the grip of her rifle… then relaxed.
She didn't kiss back. But she didn't pull away, either.
Not yet.
After a moment, she gently stepped back.Eyes flicking away. Breathing deep.
"I'm… still not ready," she said quietly.
Gantsuke nodded, stepping back too.
"No rush."
They stood there a moment longer, neither speaking.Only the low groans of distant zombies below broke the silence.
Then Izzy raised her rifle again—eyes focused.
"Teach me to aim better."
Gantsuke smiled.
"Always."