Into the pits of the city

The man was clearly out of breath yet still he ran, he could not stop, the daybreak gave perfect conditions for lookouts and snipers to gain his position. His base needed contacting quickly. He looked at the different shops and houses that he past, most were broken into, none had anything he needed. The man had to continue and find what he required, too much longer out here would be suicide. The man has great stamina, having not stopped to rest for ten miles now and still he went on. Lactic Acid had produced in high quantity in his body but he could combat it; at least for a little while longer. The man thought he saw something useful until it came fully into view; it should have had what he needed in, a battered and broken electronics shop. Broken glass and empty shelves with bullet holes lined throughout told the man that their was no point checking inside. Damn, he thought to himself and carried on. The moist, groggy air did nothing to aid the man instead; it gave the man’s lungs a humid atmosphere to breathe in and out worsening his stamina. A sign came within the man’s eyeshot a few minutes later ’Circuits turn right’. The man noticed this and turned down into a small dark alley that seemed more stench ridden than the rest of the city. Bin bags were split open and spread across the pavement. Rats were scurrying round searching for rotten meat and anything they could sink their teeth in. An electronic shop hid round the alley, one that seemed mostly untouched. He waited to check it out inside before celebrating. Bending down he allowed himself to wheeze for a second before picking himself up to face towards the door. It looked sturdy, strong enough to withstand a good knock, so he would hit it harder. He lined himself up, right shoulder forward, eyesight clearly on the target. He took a deep breath. He counted to three under her breath. ‘Go‘ he whispered, he ran towards the door, quickly picking up speed. The man collided with the door sending shards of wood in all directions. The door fell to the floor with him on top. The man groaned.

   The owners must have left in a hurry along with everyone else; most of the store looked intact. Cobwebs were hanging down from the ceilings filled with flies and spiders. A lot of dust had settled making the shop floor seem like a forgotten attic. The man slowly stood up and brushed the shards of wood off his yellow-brown camouflaged Kevlar gear. Shaking himself down he fluffed up his light brown hair, he had placed his helmet on the back of his bag, it trapped heat in that he needed to get out while running and it wouldn‘t stop a good sniper shot anyway. His brown eyes matched the palette of the landscape while his very muscular body came in handy for plenty of different situations. His camouflaged trousers fitted snugly showing off the size of his leg muscle while his arm muscles were hidden in armour. Connected to him were two belts one which came over his shoulder and the other around his waist. A large rucksack was slung over his back filled with: rations, computing equipment, a first aid kit, water and ammunition. He had a sling which has weapon connected, an MP-11, a light assault rifle that fires one, three or five shots in quick succession. It had a grenade attachment and was easy to carry as it split apart into several pieces if needed.

The End

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