Game Logic
Evers took aim. The figure ringed in the circle of his scope moved along the strong axis, left to right, and Evers breathed in and held. His finger applied the least pressure necessary. There was no sound as the projectile exited the rifle and crossed the terminal distance between Evers and his target. The figure fell. It became a pile on the ground. Then the figure began to fade. It became momentarily transparent, then vanished.
Evers took aim on the next.
Then the next.
Soon the street was empty.
Evers switched from the sniper rifle to grenades. He had thirty-seven in his inventory. He flung two down into the street before jumping off the edge of the roof. He hit the street and rolled. Pools of blood were still fading before vanishing and a bit got on his shoe. He left faint blood prints as he ran down the street and around the corner. In the distance Evers could hear sirens. He opened the door of a waiting car, threw the driver out and sped away, remembering to avoid the water.
Sergeant Tolliver climbed from his car and surveyed the waste. Their were bodies littering the street. Blood was everywhere. There were shoeprints marking the direction the killer had fled. Tolliver rubbed his hand across his mouth and turned to one of the uniformed cops already on scene.
“What the fuck is this shit?” Tolliver asked.
“Looks like we got a sniper, Sarge. We think he was on that roof up there,” he said pointing two stories up. “We got no witnesses, obviously.”
“Son of a bitch must be crazy to do all this,” Tolliver shoved his hands into his pockets and took a second look around. The carnage was overwhelming.
Evers entered his apartment. He changed clothes. He knew that he’d be safe. The cops would forget about him now.