She had taken out the swimmer effectively enough, akin to some of the people he had trained with over four years ago. Some of them had natural talent with a gun, and some of them were officers and military men, conditioned to the sounds of gunshots and recoil. Some of the men and women could take a target out just barely pausing to line up the shot. He had been trained enough to not get thrown by the recoil of the gun, and he could hit his target, if not the first time, he would get it on his second. Had he been out here on his own, he would have taken the shot and probably missed the first time, and he wouldn't throw one of his knives out there, knowing he might not get it back and God only knew what else was in that water.
He grabbed the rifle when she handed it back to him, not pausing in his movements. He checked the area where the swimmer had been to see if there was any more movement, but there was again nothing.
"They drafted all the immune and at first, they tried to train us to do everything. It was taking too long and we were running out of time. I think our 'aptitudes,' as you put it, were discovered because the immune were needed to defend the safehouses and all the survivors." He loaded his rifle as he walked, better off prepared, as they used to say. "When they tell you that you're great with knives, you realize in that moment that you have to be face to face with something that could tear you apart. I remembered in that moment just how unprepared I really was for this draft."
Around the south end of the island, he caught sight of another swimmer, as still in the water as the other one had been, though it was closer. He was afraid, he'll admit it. The infected had always acted with a certain predictability. Brennan wasn't going to claim that they were planning anything; so far, only Wakers seemed to have any measure of consciousness, though many moved in packs, and pack hunting required co-ordination.
He focused the beam of the flashlight on the creature, studying it. He couldn't figure out what it was doing, but it was unsettling. The patrol was halted for five minutes while he observed, taking notes again. Occasionally the swimmer disappeared under the waves, but it never moved closer or farther from the shore. When the swimmer did nothing else, he carefully lined up a shot and killed it.
"I've never seen this before." Brennan commented, terribly disturbed.