《Wolf of the Wasteland》Wolf of the Wasteland - 3 - Blood Trail III

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A second crack of thunder sounded off, with a rattle in the air.

The sharp whizzing sound of a speeding bullet from off in the distance.

Within the instance of the Flesh-eater snapping his fingers together a large bullet entered through the top of his skull, piercing through the lobe of his brain, and bursting open from out of the back of his head.

The frantic Flesh-eater shook, before dropping to the dusty floor.

The boy kicked the dead bandit in the throat, and looked to the hills. Farron looked around, seeing nothing but sand and dunes for miles surrounding the abandoned factory.

He could see a bright reflection off on a nearby sand hill.

"A sniper! He's going to save us!" shouted Farron as he excitedly ran over to Simon.

The naive boy had accidentally alerted the remaining Flesh-eaters of the snipers presence.

The surviving Flesh-eaters turned their attention to the far hills of sand.

"I'll get him with the shuttle!" shouted a smaller, frail Flesh-eater, "I'll get him! Watch over the meat."

The remaining two Flesh-eaters charged for cover from the sniper, while the frail Flesh-eater boarded the makeshift steel contraption, which resembled a strange speed boat on tank treads, and placed his piloting goggles on to protect his eyes from the sand.

"He's reloading- I'll get up on the hill and finish him! He can't gimme' when I'm moving," the frail Flesh-eater shouted, pointing at the hill with the light reflecting on it.

The shuttle darted up and down the sand dunes towards the shining reflection on the knoll.

The Flesh-eater wiped the sand from his aviator goggles. Protruding from the peak of the sandy knoll stood a long slender blade, partially drawn from its metal sheath.

The exposed iron of the sword blinded the Flesh-eater at a glance, reflecting the blinding light of the bright sun into his eyes- the sniper had left him a decoy.

"It's a decoy, it's a trap!" he shouted over the shuttle's intercom, alerting to the rest of the crew through the speakers.

The starving Flesh-eater turned the makeshift tank around.

The sniper was on foot in the distance, racing towards the bandits at the dilapidated factory.

He was going to save the captives.

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