[Requested by @MikePhony hope this was close enough to what you asked for!]

Xylo leveled the gun, staring down the barrel at the target. If he imagined hard enough, the flimsy white couch cushion splattered with red crayons morphed into a grim zombie. A raised body limping over, ideally with its hands empty, moaning and groaning in its own garbled language of the dirt where it once resided.

He bit the tip of his tongue and flicked the safety off. He stared the zombie down, the red target shifting to appear across its flaky forehead. Just as he prepared to squeeze the trigger, the zombie's face shifted as well. From a stranger to a heart-striking motherly appearance.

He sucked in a breath and shut his eyes, firing into the dead silence.

The gun ricocheted and Xylo stumbled back, his arms jamming backwards into their sockets. His ears rang and he had to ignore the impulse to drop the gun and to cover them. Through the loud, sharp ringing, he could just barely hear the bullet hit something wooden, definitely not the cushioned target.

He twisted his feet to keep himself stable and looked for where the bullet landed. The edge of the building had a new nick in it, wood splinters hanging loose. Whoops.

The garage door opened and Nicoline poked her head out. "How far off did you miss it?"

"Ahh," Xylo chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "only by a few inches...or feet. It's safe to come out."

"Not until you put the safety back on."

"Noted." He clicked the safety latch and Nicoline took the risk, stepping outside right into his line of fire. She looked back and forth between the target and the broken piece of house. "I see you're doing well with training."

The sarcasm wasn't lost on Xylo but he chose to blissfully ignore it in favor of removing his ego for the time being. "Do you think you could...help me? A bit?"

"Help you learn to shoot a non-moving target?" she deadpanned.

So much for what was left of said bruised ego. He did his best puppy dog eyes he knew how to do, courtesy of his sister, but she didn't look impressed. Finally, he merely shrugged helplessly. "Please?"

Nicoline considered him for a moment before sighing and shutting the garage door. "Okay, let me see what you're doing now."

Small victories. Xylo aligned himself with the target, stretching out his arms in front of him. The gun perfectly at his eyeline and the tips of his shoes facing the same direction. It was the exact position he was coached on, information he was glad he retained.

She crossed one arm over his, placing her hands on top his on the gun. "Since you're still a beginner at this, keep one eye closed; whichever one is closest to the weapon."

"Wait, you can do it with both eyes open?"

"It's preferred for experts, since in most situations you would need the increased field of vision. You've probably just never seen it done because all your action has been on sets."

"Okay, look." He lowered the gun, eyebrows furrowed. Nicoline didn't even bat an eye at his offense. "I've been able to keep myself alive with my shooting skills thus far. I'm just a little rusty is all."

"If that's so, then fix your stance like you have been."

What? "What?"

"If you're in the heat of the moment, about to die, you won't be able to stabilize yourself on your feet. You should practice like you would in normal situations."

"None of this is a normal situation." He almost waved his hand at their surroundings to emphasize, but luckily remembered the gun and kept his hands at his sides.

She shrugged, a hint of a smile creeping at the corners of her mouth. "It is now. Now, try again but still don't take the safety off. I value my limbs."

Ignoring the jab, he did as she said. Through the U-shaped notch of the rear sight, he could make out a yellow object not far above the target. He squinted to focus on it, not noticing his arms moving along with his eyes and changing direction towards it.

Nicoline quickly covered his hands, pressing down on the gun until it was more in his eyeline. "Whoooa! Watch out for that bell; you hit it and it'll attract every zombie in the city."

"Oh! Sorry, sorry!" He relined the shot, jolting the gun a bit too much. She leapt back, eyes widening as if it was going to go off and hit her. "Sorry!" Xylo gave her a half smile, a courtesy she didn't give back with much enthusiasm.

"You really need better control of it. You usually use longer guns, like rifles, right?"

"Pretty much."

"You have to account for the lighter weight, of the gun itself and in your hands. With a rifle you have one hand on the grip and the other on the barrel. With a handgun, the whole thing is in both hands." As she explained, Xylo shifted his hands until they were in what he hoped was the correct way to hold the weapon. The pistol felt more...right.

"Do you think you-"

He held up a hand, cutting her off. "I got this, I got this." He straightened back his shoulders, trying to give off the presence of someone who actually knew what he was doing. He recognized the tone he used, the one he did best when trying to convince someone of what he wanted them to think.

Old habits die hard, just like the dead.

Nicoline took her hands away, raising them in mock surrender. "Alright then, go ahead Mr. Big Shot. Hit the center."

"I will!" Xylo took his stance, turned for balance but still a natural position. Almost as if he was running away, a quick stand-off before rushing off alongside his companions. He raised the gun and took a deep breath, gently pulling the trigger-

~Groooaaaan~

A panicked shiver ran down his arms at the sound right in his ear. His arm jerked towards the source, but he didn't let up on the trigger. The gun went off with a bang and he heard Nicoline yelp. "Xylo!"

Before they could do anything more than gasp, the bullet struck the brass bell. It swung side to side, ringing a low toned, but loud chime. Xylo and Nicoline glanced at each other in mild horror. "Maybe it's-"

The chime was quickly snuffed out by all too familiar groaning. Over the tops of the fences, they could see a growing horde they hadn't even heard arrive beat against the barrier between them and their food.

"Uh, Xylo..."

He whirled around, gun poised to aim. More zombies were heading right towards the other side of the yard. They had plenty of bullets, but still nowhere near enough for the amount of corpse-walkers now surrounding them.

He slipped the gun into his makeshift holster, i.e. his belt and hope that it wouldn't fall out, and ran for the back door of the house. There were at least some furniture inside to barricade the doors, an upstairs to shoot out at the zombies, Nicoline and him could-

He lurched to a stop, hands on the door frame, and checked. Nicoline wasn't behind him

Nicoline scanned the ground frantically, searching for the red bar she kept outside for scenarios like this. The sound of wood cracking sent her heart racing and she could vaguely hear Xylo yelling her name.

There. In the opposite direction of the door inside, but...

Nicoline dashed towards it and threw her body to the side, sliding right into the dirt and grabbed the flare gun. She pointed it straight up into the sky and fired. A bright red light shot out into the air, presumably, hopefully, giving out into a ball of distress then dissolving into puffs of smoke. She didn't get to see for sure as Xylo grasped her arm, pulling her towards the building.

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Mario settled back against the tires of his truck, tapping the now repaired axle. Looked stable enough, solid and made out of actual metal. He didn't feel too bad about doubting Michael considering how out of it he was.

It held, that's all that mattered.

Just as he started to contemplate whether to move to another location or not, he heard a faint sizzling sound. In the brief distance, he could see a flare light rise, a bright red spark in the blue sky, and light up before quickly disappearing. He jumped to his feet, grabbing hold of the nerf bar, and hauled himself up.

Without hesitation, he cranked up the truck and made his way towards the faded away flare.