Chapter 162: One hundred and twenty-three: Deep into the Night (I)_2
As he sprinted down the street, the sound of gunfire became brighter and more urgent.
Malin led the half-humans over the low walls, cutting through someone’s backyard, flipping over the fierce watchdog with a small branch. He was the first to vault the wall, landing in a yard filled with dead bodies.
"They all have weapons, damn it." The half-human squad, after scaling the wall, scrambled for cover, rolling and crawling. Malin turned over a corpse and examined the bullet hole on the face—a revolver wound, the bullet entering below the eye and turning the back of his head into a verb in past tense.
He got up, raised his firearm, and Malin twisted his neck, causing the bright flashlight on his helmet to start working.
By then, the leader of the half-human squad had reached the back door. He pulled out a flare from his waist, released the safety, and tossed it through the slightly ajar door.
With no gunfire following, the half-humans pushed open the door. Malin yanked the leader back and then entered, gun held high.
A narrow corridor with a fallen body, the entire head gone, only the remaining tissue on one side told Malin how it had disappeared—if he was not mistaken, it was a hollow point bullet, caliber 12, that had entered through the mouth and broke the connection between the spine and the skull. That’s why the jaw was still intact.
Malin walked a few steps, and the half-human teams’ captain kicked open the bathroom door: "There’s a dead person."
So Malin continued forward, staying close to the wall, gun pointed at the corner. As he nearly reached it, another half-human jogged to the opposite side of the corridor and stood opposite Malin. He took a flash grenade from his waist, pulled the pin, and tossed it to Malin.
Malin caught it and bounced it off the wall facing the corner. The long, rod-shaped illuminator rebounded into the living room.