Derrick was lefthanded, and most people thought that he couldn't shoot good because of it. The truth was he was a better shot than 'most people'. He pulled the bolt up, back, foward, and down again, loading the bullet into the chamber. First kill of the day, heh. He slowed his breathing, then stopped it, and pulled the trigger. He expected the zombies head to blow up.

Instead, he realized he forgot to turn the safety off. Dumbass! He turned it off and yelled at the guy that was at the door. "Either you die now, by this gun or them, or get your ass inside. I suggest getting your ass inside. This bullet will attract the entire city to this motel. So hurry your scrawny ass up, now." He turned back to his suitcase. He emptied it out until he found what he was looking for.

He put the frag grenade into his back left pocket and the suicide pills in the back right. He didn't plan to die by zombies. No, he would take his life before they got the chance to touch him. Firstly, he would blow the fuckers up, and if that didn't kill him, the pills or a pistol bullet to the head would. He sighed and followed the undead's head with the iron scopes again. How he wished he could have a x6 or x12 scope right now, it would make it so much easier.

Or, he wished his XM-8 was still with him... then he realized something. It was sitting outside in his car, in the trunk. At the far end of the parking lot. Real helpful, and real careless. He turned back to his suitcase. His XM-8 had a scope, but it was in his suitcase. He thought it was at least. He found it and let out a quiet cheer. He slid it on the gun and tightened it on. He walked back to the upstairs window and took aim, the scope clearly showing the zombie's head.

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