Hitting a raider in the face at that distance - at night, no less - wasn't an easy feat. It seemed as though Fulbeck was, as he'd claimed, pretty good with a long gun.
Or that was the initial thought.
As Akuma watched, the second shot narrowly missed its mark. However, the raider went down with a cry and it wasn't likely he'd be getting back up, at least from where Akuma could see. Yet, despite their theory, the man on the roof stumbled back up, clutching their shoulder which no doubt had been mangled beyond repair by that kind of blast. Without adrenaline and whatever psycho-heavy chem cocktail coursing through their veins, the raider would have been on the ground, screaming in agony at the electrical shock surging through their brachial plexus, which - with a gun like that - was probably a sucking hole where the rats nest of nerves used to be. At the moment, though, he was attempting fruitlessly to gather his wits and kill the damn thing which killed him first, even as his arm failed to respond to a hasty stimpak jab. In the dark, it was impossible to tell whether or not Joe had hit anything vital, but it would have to be an idiotic level of bad luck to miss anything major.
Shoot again Akuma urged silently. End him. Following two gunshots, one scream wasn't much to cause concern, but the continued cries of: "Fuck! My fucking arm! ...I can't move my goddamn arm!" were very likely to cause a distraction at best... but it was unlikely, in the raider's throes of agony and his inability to control his arm that he would pose any further threat. And even when he was alive enough to scream, it mattered little if he couldn't locate the shooter. The plan had been, after all, to draw the raiders inside out.
It seemed they were wiser than many groups of humans were in a panic; they failed to swarm from the main entrance like ants as Akuma had anticipated. Instead, a single raider from inside climbed on to the roof to assess the damage. He lowered his dying friend down toward the floor to try and avoid further gunfire before sneaking over to the side of the roof to look at the corpse of the first man as it had fallen below.
"No", the raider could be heard saying to the second sentry, "no he's definitely dead. His head looks like a fucking banana peel."
Akuma did not catch the response, but the raider that had come to the rescue answered. "Fuck no I'm not going down there to grab him. You stupid? We stay inside and guard the doors. Whatever fucker picked him off wants to get in here, so we're gonna make them come to us. I'm not getting picked off one by one like some goddamn target practice. Come on. Let's get in there."
He stood, supporting his friend who- by the limpness of his torso - was struggling to stay upright. By Akuma's guess, he wouldn't survive much longer. Still, their plan seemed to have been compromised. There would be no grenade throwing...yet. He waited to see if Joe would try to shoot again before silently making his way back up the ridge to rejoin him, making a wide berth around where he suspected the barrel was pointed just in case. It was time for plan B.
