Silence. That was all that filled the air as I rounded the corner into a dark alley way. I put my back against the damp wall and pulled my .45 magnum revolver from it’s holster and readied myself to run around the corner, and face what ever may be there.
Screaming as I went, I rounded the corner in a flash, thrusting my weapon in front ready to fire, but there was nothing to fire at. All that stood before me was a long city street that had been set to pause. Cars were everywhere, but with no one in them.
I ran on, shielding my eyes from the dust that hung in the air. I had to force my eyes open to see through the gray filth. The first car I walked up to, I attempted to get into, but it was locked, with the key inside. It gave the strange sense who ever had driven the car disappeared from within.
Continuing down the road, I met a pile up of cars all crunched together in the middle of Times square. So with no other option to get around them, I began my climb over the hood of a 1980’s mustang, but as I got up enough to see over it, there ahead of me was a large group of people huddled in a circle in the center of the square as if they were about to play a game of football. The only thing is that I knew what they were doing, looking for me, the only American agent left to take them on.

I slipped back down the side of the car and putting my back against it I put all my focus on planing my next steps carefully. They could be my last, and I had to avoid that for the sake of the United States. My first idea was to reload all my guns in my backpack so I didn’t have to I reload in the middle of what was to come at that point. I sharpened my katana that rested in it’s sheath on my side, and returned it to it’s home, returning my attention to my favorite weapon; my revolver.

In the next instant, I threw my self back over the car pile, and lobed a grenade out into the crowd. A large muscular man saw it roll toward them, and kicked it back at me before it could go off. I took all my effort to run from the unexpected blast, but I was cut short and a fraction of it hit me with just enough force to send me flying into one of the cars surrounding me. I got up almost instantly due to the years of pain training I had received back when everything was still normal.

As I got up the men came running full speed at me, various weapons in hand. I put my own up, and fired away hitting a man int the shoulder sending him flying back about five feet spinning as he flew. That wasn’t the smartest thing to do in an ambush so I switched to my shotgun as I dodged as much as I could.

When I finally felt the trigger caressing my finger I pulled it back hard, hitting every target with massive blast. To save the ammo I had left I ran up to as many of them as I could and took them down with a kick or a stab with my tactical knife.

“That takes care of the last of them in New York,” I sighed with relief, or so I thought. Behind me I could hear the distinct sound of a chainsaw ripping it’s menacing snarl.