• Onset

    Foreword
    The year is 2015; America and her allies have risen above all other countries, there is no fear of major conflict for the foreseeable future, and yet, her best soldiers die of old age, expire without ever seeing a major conflict. The military masterminds of the century go without meeting their match. In order to combat this waste of resources, the military has conscripted fifty of their best soldiers, into a program designed to preserve their combat ready status until a need arises. This group of soldiers includes snipers, Army Rangers, Navy Seals, Green Berets, Air Force Paratroopers, Marine and Air Force Pilots, and a number of CIA special agents.






    Chapter 1, Greed
    August 25, 2013
    “Good morning, Matthew,” a cheery, beautiful, blonde secretary beemed from behind her desk as I took my steps into my dreary office.
    “Morning, I’m not sure how good it is though,” I snorted back. Eh, maybe things weren’t so bad. Wait, what am I talking about? I work eighty hours a week reviewing prototype proposals without finding a single candidate worthy of investing in. Sure I may have gotten my PhD in Molecular Chemistry, but what’s the point if I don’t have anything to use it with?
    I slid a pass card through an electronic security system to open the locked door in front of me. I need a vacation…
    “Dr. Ross, your coffee is hot in your office,” the blonde’s voice rang out through the intercom in the hallway he walked through. I chuckled, I still had yet to learn the name of this woman who had been hired nearly a month ago.
    Beautiful, jet, black coffee… yum. I mused as I walked into my bland, white cubicle office space. Maybe, if I can find some sugar….
    “Matthew,” the stern tone of a corporate officer blared from my phone’s speaker.
    I paused, just to egg him on for a second, “Yes Dave, how may I make your day?” I droned sarcastically.
    “I’ve got a case for you,” Dave blistered forward, ignoring my snide remark, “I’m talking this could turn around millions in our direction.”
    Yeah right… “Oh yea, you mean like the other twenty, million dollar prototypes I review each day?”
    “Cut that out Matthew. I’m serious about this. We’ve got a storage capsule on our hands here.”
    I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, “Sir, your not talking about,” I added a slight pause for dramatic effect, “A cardboard box are you!?”
    “No Dr. Ross I’m talking about the human time capsule.”
    Okay this was a little more interesting. My tone turned a little more serious, “Wait, you mean a cryogenic sleep apparatus?”
    “I don’t know Dr. Ross, that’s what I’m paying you for.”

    “Alright, power levels are good. Electronics check out, I think this puppy is ready for a test,” I thought to myself. I looked around at the clean, white walls that surrounded my lab, which was conveniently located in a cramped space that was my basement. My computer, which rested on a neatly organized, mahogany, desk, ran a final diagnostic test. As per my neat freak persona, everything I had ever worked on was filed perfectly, any papers on my desk were organized and relevant. If I could help it, no details would get by me due to a lack of focus. It was a shame that I couldn’t keep my personal life on the same par of perfection. I tried to push the depressing thought from my mind and attempted to shift my thoughts elsewhere while I waited for the ancient machine to finish.
    Cryogenic hibernation… Think of what the world could become… Or how the world could be destroyed. Hmm, this was the first piece of technology that had actually worked for him. A devious plot sparked in my brain. Why should I hand over my completed designs? I clicked up a new window on my screen and started completing my project report form.
    At the very end of my form I keyed the words. Experiment Failure, fatal design flaw and death in primary test subjects. I knew it was a lie, but I had to think of the benefits to myself. After contemplating my decision, I was tired of the modern world, my pathetic excuse for a life, job, and accomplishments. Besides, there was only one way to see what the future would hold.
    I calibrated the freezing apparatus to my age, thirty-seven, and thought through the odds. I had an athletic build, in shape, generally healthy, I actually made a top test subject. Now the question beckoned, how long do I want to be frozen? I starred blankly at the timer which looked like a regular kitchen timer mounted in an oven, I didn’t really want to make the decision. I closed my eyes and spun the dial, without looking I sealed the selection.
    Smiling I stepped into the chamber, slowly closed the sliding doors, sealed all compression locks, and initiated the cooling sequence. Fast freeze was necessary to preserve all of my vital functions so I should be frozen before I even know……






    Chapter 2, Awakening
    January 1, 2059
    Ahh! Oh, it burns! My lungs lacked the life sustaining breathe. I wretched out several blood curdling screams. My eyes winked open to see needles penetrating the length of my body, injecting mixtures of fluid. It felt like I was dying! I couldn’t think of anything except the excruciating sensation of burning fluid filling each crevice of my veins. My muscles felt like explosions and movement was ridiculous. The needles felt like stakes digging through my tissue, and as my brain’s lobes activated, they screamed pain over the rest of my body.
    Gas was injected into the chamber as I writhed with the new sense of consciousness. Much to my relief I was once again pushed into unconsciousness my depleted body.
    Weeks later, the effects of the gas wore down. I awoke from an induced coma once again to, a much relieved body. The burning fluid had activated my essential systems correctly, and my body felt, well normal, but tired. I decide to sleep
    For the third time, I woke. This time I was ready to see the world of the future! A sense of excitement rippled through me as I pulled the lever to release the chambers hydraulic locks. A series of whistles and whirrs escaped as seals were broken and compressed gases escaped. Darkness met darkness and only dim lights from my unit remained
    I saw, well not what I expected. My beautiful white walls and shiny interior had completely decayed. Instead, there was nothing but decay and degeneration.
    Well that’s less than ideal… I took my first steps out of the chamber and tripped on my own feet. Wow, however long I had set my chamber to freeze me, I hadn’t walked, or used any of my muscles for a long time. I looked at my hands that had caught my fall. They were covered with black filth fueled by the decomposition of the wood and paper from my former desk. Panicked, I wiped away the soot, praying that I wouldn’t find my worst fear bellow. Relief. There was no cut. A bacterium in this age could be the end of me. My immune system hadn’t seen any of the many possible new diseases.
    I righted my self and stood on my feet once again. My head pounded as the blood struggled to work its way into my brain. Finally, I mustered the courage to walk towards the old steel door. I didn’t have to worry about the electronic lock that had probably kept my slumber secure; because the steel had oxidized extensively. Oddly enough it seem as though claw marks had tried to tear through rusted steel. That was interesting, perhaps there was some wild animal that had wandered into the city? Whatever the case, I remained certain that I could open the door. Grabbing the handle, I jumped backwards pulling the rusted hinges back nearly a foot. The top hinge was completely disconnected. There wasn’t much room in the gap, but I managed to slip through the crevice. The stairs held their structure moderately well, considering the amount of time that had passed. But, as I climbed to the top of the filthy steps, something greater caught my attention. The entire top two stories of my respectable house were simply gone… All that remained was the ruins of the city. The ruins…
    The sun brightly pierced through the light cloud cover onto a city street cracked and overgrown with shrubs. The world smelt, old. Like life had been stale for many, many years. Everything was so, desolate. I couldn’t believe I had left my old life for, this. Then the thought crossed my mind. What if I was the last person left? What if all of humanity had been wiped out by an unknown assailant?
    “I wanna go back,” I whimpered as I fell to my knees tears dropping to the ground, “I wanna go back.”

    Wind picked up the barren ground and threw it past my cheeks. The small pellets grabbed my dampened eyes holding onto each tear. I forced my hand to wipe the dust away, clearing the stains from my face. Pull yourself together Matthew. You got here by choice and your going to figure something out.
    I stood again. I didn’t really know where to start, or what to do. Seattle, my city, looked horrible. The monumental Space Needle had long ago crashed to the ground. Its watch no longer provided comfort to, well, just me.
    “Hello!” I screamed with all my might, “Is anyone there? I’m alive! Can anyone hear me!?”
    I racked my brain to figure out what had happened. That’s all that really mattered at this point. Decay, and lush overgrowth filled the buildings, pavement, a wide assortment of roadside equipment, and street lights. When did this happen? How did it happen? And what caused it to happen? The scientist in me immediately stirred. Suddenly, my sadness was blurred for a moment as a grand mystery presented itself to me. Greater than any puzzle I had ever seen before. The excitement in me dissipated as I realized the stakes, however. If I failed to find the answers, or worse, if I failed to find any surviving humans, there could be no hope left, and I would die, a depressing death.
    The first few steps were the hardest, the shock of seeing Seattle couldn’t be easily wiped away, but I had to move, right? I had too…
    I didn’t really know where I was walking to. Perhaps I was following the caw of the ravens above me. That was strange… there were so many birds. Just overgrowth, birds, and ruins, everywhere I looked. I even recognized a few café’s on the city streets, but each sight was just as depressing as the last.
    Hours, upon hours, upon hours. I just walked. Finally I quit. I threw myself down in the middle of the street and lay on my back looking at the clouds. It was oddly comforting. The one constant that had remained was the sheer magnificence of the clouds. The large, white billows that seemed to roll over the horizon.
    I need a plan, I thought. I can’t just wander and hope to find anything of significance. If I was a survivor where would I go? Well obviously somewhere with adequate food, and water, perhaps even weapons if there are others. But everything is destroyed… I wouldn’t know of any place still intact. Maybe some things survived?
    Then it hit me. My lab complex… That would be the perfect place to start. It would have had everything a survivor needed, food, water, shelter, weapons.
    I jumped back to my feet this time in a sprint, pushing my thirty-seven years of age to its limit. That thought struck me. Thirty-seven years, but how long ago was that? I didn’t even know my own age…
    My lab had seen better days. Usually a moderately sized white cube plopped into the middle of a much bigger city, now it sat looking more like a hill made of vines and shrubs crawling up the walls. The two sliding glass door were now simply metal frames. The stone stairs leading to the entrance had been shattered and cracked. I crawled up the crumbling stairs carefully watching my foot, and danced around the glass fragments that had fallen from their place in the door. I saw the remains of my receptionist’s desk. It’s frame had survived far better than mine had. Then, something new caught my eyes, markings, indentions… bullet holes, hundreds of them. I looked away at the walls and found more covering every face of the wall.
    A battle? What had happened here? It looked like this place had been assaulted, but I hadn’t found any other evidence to support this conclusion. Moving down the hall all the glass coverings on the lights had shattered and fallen to the ground. Finally at the end of the glass strewn hall the large stainless steel door that had secured the lab from outside intervention still remained intact but wasn’t secured in its socket. Instead, it rested slightly ajar. I pulled it fully open to view the destroyed interior. Everything was a mess. Paper strewn across the floor, mold slowly eating away and the edges. Computers broken into pieces lying across the room. Shelves holding prototypes fallen over, destroying their contents. Bullet proof windows had even been broken. It was truly incredible, I didn’t even know how these windows could have been destroyed. Most of the separate office doors had been torn to shreds allowing whatever had happened here to spread into them as well.
    As I looked around the war zone, there was only one door left untouched. I knew its owner, my partner, Bob Stevens PhD. Cautiously I approached his door, grabbed the knob and twisted. With a creak the hinges moved the door open. I turned away in horror. A skeleton, with mangled clothing still hanging on, lay sprawled across the floor. Dried red surrounded its silhouette. A pistol rested below the victims right hand, a revolver in fact.
    Alas, poor Bob, I knew him well… I couldn’t really restrain the thought; I simply just didn’t like the guy, well that and my recent obsession with Shakespeare. The guilt still hit me though. He had obviously died many years ago. Fortunately he left me with a little parting gift. Now, back in the past I knew I would have been hesitant to carry a firearm, but given the present circumstances, I figured it was better to be safe then sorry.
    Four bullets… two casings left on the ground. Pour ole’ Bob must’ve gotten a few rounds off before his murderer, or murderers, got to him. Hmm, well maybe he kept some extra munitions in his desk… The drawer slid open easily enough, and while I didn’t find any shells, I did happen to see a rather curious journal, marked the end of the world, property of a Mr. Caleb Minns……







    Chapter 3, The Past
    March 26, 2018
    Beep, beep, beep, beep.
    Another day, the tired twenty-two year old thought to himself. Caleb had never been an early riser. Unfortunately, his job said otherwise. Assistant Manager, Wal-Mart Incorporated, Seattle Branch. Caleb, however, didn‘t plan to let such a small inconvenience set him back. Five to six shifts may have been a turn off to most people, but Caleb simply saw an opportunity to increase his income.
    The crisp, cool, morning winter air flood the room as Caleb opened the door to a world of aroma. A light breeze licked his face as nature sang to welcome him. The light snowfall had covered the landscape with a sheet of white. In the developing suburb, houses were still allotted a more than reasonable amount of land. In fact, Caleb would jokingly assert to his friends that his Assistant Manager position at Wal-Mart had collected the funds to purchase his estate. With two acres of land, a garden, and a driveway hidden amongst the trees, no one would guess that the property was affordable to a Wal-Mart employee.
    Caleb chuckled at the thought. But, duty called. He grabbed a backpack and walked to his Honda Civic parked beneath the garage unlocked the doors and strapped himself in. It was a thirty minute drive to Seattle, but the peaceful living on the outskirts of town more than made up for the hour of commuting each day.
    Crunch. His teeth sank into a brilliantly flavored Nature Oats granola bar, honey flavored for that matter. He enjoyed a rhythmic crunch while he drove, swerving between other cars. Modern rock music blared through the speakers encouraging a mild head nod as he kept the beat.
    The Wal-Mart super center rolled into view. Hopping out of his car and walking to the front door, Caleb smiled to their early morning greeter. The wrinkled old man refused to return his gesture.
    “Glad to see that smiling face again, Steve,” Caleb laughed. A store clerk caught his and immediately started walking away. He decided to ignore it and continued to his office in the back of the store.
    Throwing his backpack onto the chair that rivaled his desk, Caleb found a box of granola bars and ripped open another package. He moved the backpack to the floor before sitting on his chair and throwing his feet up on the desk. I’m livin’ the high life, he thought.

    It was a normal day, up until four that is. Caleb had been typing a report when the phone rang, a call from corporate.
    “Caleb Minn’s office,” Caleb answered the phone as politely as he could.
    “Minns, good to here from you,” a deep serious voice of an executive greeted, “We have an assignment for you. As you know we’ve have been expanding rapidly in the Washington state. Walla Walla is a small town south of Seattle that we are looking at opening a new location at. We need you to survey both the geography and economy of this town, it could be a great investment.”
    “Oh, yes sir, when do I leave, sir?” Caleb responded slightly surprised.
    “Tomorrow, the sooner the better.”
    Caleb sighed under his breathe, “Yes sir, I’ll pack my things tonight.”
    “And Caleb.”
    “Yes sir?”
    “Good luck,” the voice ended the conversation.

    Beep, beep, beep, beep.
    Another day, Caleb thought as his alarm churned again on queue. He sat up, clearing his eyes and looking at the stuffed duffel bag at his feet. Time to leave.
    Slinging the bag into the passenger seat and opening the granola bar he had grabbed for breakfast, Caleb climbed into his Honda and headed south.
    Walla, what kind of god-forsaken town is this going to be?
    As he left the Seattle city limits he settled into a comfortable position and turned on some music. He had a long drive ahead of him. He didn’t mind the trip to Walla, but it certainly was an inconvenience.
    Oh! The thought shot into his head. I had a date last night! He had totally forgotten about Lane. Ah, I’m gonna get hell for this… Pulling out his phone he quickly tried to salvage his situation.
    Text or talk? He debated with himself before deciding he didn’t really want to talk and sent her the message.
    “Omg im sooooooo sry for last night! I just remembered right now, and my boss sent me on a trip. I’ll be gone for a few days….. Rain check?”
    No response. His heart beat nervously. He really liked Lane, but he knew she wasn’t the type that would take any crap from a guy. Racing down the interstate his cell vibrated, dancing around in his pocket. He jumped in surprise, but his stomach sank in nervousness before he looked at the response.
    “Business…. Right… Caleb weve been tlkin about this for weeks. Uve never stood me up before : (”
    Oh boy, Caleb thought.
    “No I promise, im drivin to Walla Walla right now!”
    It was another ten minutes before he got a response. But, his phone kept vibrating. He glanced down for a second to see a call, Lane.
    “Hey beautiful,” Caleb tried to joke.
    “Hey, when are you coming back? You can’t just leave without telling me.”
    “I know I’m sorry, but can we please just make this a rain check? I’ll take you for Italian,” Caleb tried to bribe her cunningly knowing about her love for pizza and pasta.
    Giving in Lane responded, “Oh, all right! Just be careful driving your not supposed to send texts especially on the interstate.”
    Caleb laughed, “Ok I will be,” obviously not caring, “well I’ll let ya go now, love you”
    “I love you too,” she chuckled before hanging up the phone.

    There it was. The beautiful, expansive town of Walla Walla… Caleb thought with sarcasm. He felt out of place in the small town compared to the much larger Seattle.




    Chapter 4, Reveille
    January 2, 2059
    His thoughts were blurred, he couldn’t remember where he was. He was numb, except where he hurt. As his senses came back to focus he realized his muscles ached, his lips were chapped, an acrid smell and taste filled his nose and mouth, seeping down his throat into his lungs. It was dark. The only light came from outside his…space. A cracked glass screen trapped him from the outside world. Straps bound him about the chest, hips, wrists, and ankles. Something flashed across his mind.
    A memory.
    Cryo-sleep, now it came back.
    He wrenched the straps from his wrists, then chest and hips, finally he tore his feet free. But he was still trapped. He brought his fist back, and slammed it against the glass. The cracks grew, and his strength was returning. Twice more he beat upon the glass before it broke in small tempered pieces which shattered on the floor below him.
    As he leaned out of his pod, he saw that all the other pods had gone dark, standing in disrepair. He looked down. He was standing in a medical gown, bleach white, like everything else in the room, and bare foot. He stepped out avoiding as much glass as possible. He moved through the room looking for a still working pod, but his was the only one that had survived. One pod was empty, maybe its occupant had survived, and escaped, but he was long gone. Private First Class Joshua Davis stood for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Something was wrong, he wasn’t woken by the medical staff, these men were dead, so this building must have been shut down.
    “I need more intel,” his own voice echoed back, but it was good to hear, encouraging, yet unfamiliar.
    He fumbled about in the dark until he found a door. He took a step inside and ran into a wall. A closet, what a nice surprise. He moved along the wall until he found another door, perhaps the exit. It opened to a hall with a single flickering emergency light at the end. As he shuffled down the hall he found a directory of the building on the wall. Looking over it in the dim light, he found a supply room. He quickly moved off to the room in hope of finding clothing that provided more than meager decency. Inside, moonlight filtered through a small window and gave Joshua just enough light to find scrubs and slippers which he slipped on quickly. He moved down the hall towards an exit. He stopped as something caught his eye. A tingling sensation filled his body. Something wasn’t right, he turned about looking all around for whatever was out place. Davis’ subconscious was rejecting this room, it was wrong. His eyes fell upon a dark mass that appeared to be leaning against a wall. Upon further inspection, Davis realized it was the body of a man, mid-forties, wearing army fatigues. His face, arms, and chest were cut and scratched, one eye gouged out, a huge gash ran down his right leg. No evidence was present to explain what had happened, no evidence. Dry blood covered the floor he was sprawled across, forming a short river towards the door. He swore quietly under his breath. The stakes had been raised, this was more than a shut down and forgotten lab. It had not passed quietly into the night, but it fell in a bloody battle. But who was doing the fighting?

    Chapter 5, Smash and Grab
    January 2, 2059,
    PFC Joshua Davis approached the door that lead to the outside world. A broken “EXIT” sign hung by a few wires from the ceiling. Davis pried the rusted door open with a loud creak. He looked around at the broken down military base.
    Another memory came to mind: he received his orders, then days later he was in a jeep, driving down a small road, through a forest to a heavily guarded, very secretive base. Through the gates, and straight to the hospital, if you could call it that. It was more research and lab than treatment facility. He was rushed to the basement, stripped, and put in a gown. Then an IV was inserted and he was out like a light.
    Back to present day, now as he looked around the base he saw the helo pad, parade ground, barracks, and various storage facilities. A few carrion birds picked at something on the helo pad, but he told himself he didn’t want to see it. He quickly ran across the parade ground, and into the barracks. He searched through the building, grabbing a worn pair of boots that seemed to fit pretty well, along with a set of fatigues. Something wasn’t right, this had been one of the nations foremost military research facilities. He hurried, the silence was unsettling. Dressed and ready he moved off toward the storage buildings. He spent hours searching through these, finding a 45 caliber side arm, M4 carbine, a few grenades, combat armor, an emergency kit, and a large amount of MREs, all of which he stuffed into a humvee which he found in the motor pool. Once he had all this, he went back for ammunition and a 50 caliber machine gun. That took some time, once it was found and mounted in the humvee, he took a break, drank some water, and cracked open one of his many MREs. Finally he broke into the motor pool office and found the proper set of keys for his stolen humvee. He jumped in the driver’s seat and turned the key. Nothing happened. Again he twisted the key, but the battery didn’t even try to turn over. Swearing oaths of vengeance against the blasted machine, he got back out and went looking for a battery. After hours he was able to triumphantly start the humvee. He tore out of the drive in his new vehicle, the huge armored car tore through the front gate, sending sparks and metal pieces flying. He started scanning the radio stations, picking up static on all but one. It was broken, hard to understand, but from what he heard he understood that they were looking for survivors. “Survivors,” he muttered to himself, “survivors of what?” He followed the road signs until he reached a small town. He drove around, looking for something. He didn’t like what he found.
    Bodies, littered the streets, pressed up against doors, hung out of windows. The dead filled the streets, populated the town. This was not a town that died. But a cemetery that once lived. The stench of death wafted over the air. But not only were the people dead, no birds flew, or dogs barked. Nothing lived here. This place was filled with the dark energy of death, like a butcher’s shop, a dark pallor hung over the lonely, empty streets.
    He jumped out, grabbed his body armor, strapped his side arm to his leg, and shouldered his M4 carbine. He bent over and examined a body. Judging by the level of decomposition, most were dead for five or six years. He moved down the road, rifle up and ready.
    There were a few more supplies he needed, so he broke into the local sporting goods store. After he smashed through the front window with the butt of his rifle, he expected to hear alarms, but realized that there must not be any power, without people to tend power lines, work generators, and upkeep the power grid, break down would occur in weeks.
    He hopped in through the window and moved along, not letting his guard down. His training came back as if he had never been asleep. He set about searching for the equipment he needed. He grabbed emergency flares; a kukri, a curved machete which was his personal knife of choice; a flashlight he could mount on his M4; and anything else he saw that he might need. He packed up his supplies and walked around the town looking for survivors.
    He could feel someone left. His warrior sense had not failed him before. He moved along, there was someone still alive, he could hear them moving, breathing, and living. He was running now, he had to find them! Finally he came upon a back alley, half filled with decomposing trash. Now he moved slowly carefully. “My name is Private First Class, Joshua Davis,” he called in a commanding voice, “I’m with the United States Army. I want to help you, I need you to come out!” After a few moments with no response he gave one more shout, “Hello?” His brain told him something was wrong, but his craving to find another human overpowered him. “I’m coming, don’t be scared!”
    Joshua moved along, he knew something was wrong, his conscience screamed at him not to go but he did it anyway. It was his duty to save every civilian that he could. He was deep into the alley now, and he could hear them, they were close. Then he saw them, curled up against the side of an old house. Laying in a pool of blood, shaking. As PFC Davis approached he let his carbine hang from his shoulder strap, and reached down to help them, “Are you okay?” He grabbed the person’s arm and pulled them. It was the biggest mistake of his life.
    Even as PFC Joshua Davis reached down to help the person curled on the ground, he felt it was a mistake. When he grabbed its arm and turned him around, his thoughts were confirmed. The man reared back and sent Davis’ M4 sliding. Before he could reach for his side arm the assailant was upon him, weighing him down. Davis’ years of experience and training kicked in. He curled his hands into fists and laid two good punches on the man’s face, knocking him off balance. With a quick shove he got free. He jumped up and backed up, range was his ally, as it always had been. He reached for the gun strapped to his leg, but to his dismay, it was not there. With a quick scan he saw it laying just behind the feet of the man, who had now risen and shaken off his confusion. He was not totally helpless, he still had his knife. But as he reached back for the kukri strapped at the back of his waste, the man resumed his attack, lunging at him in his moment of weakness. As the pair landed, Davis’ arm was pinned under him, the weight of both bodies pressing down. Using all his strength Joshua rolled over, putting himself on top of the man and freeing his left hand. He pulled the blade free and smashed it down into the man’s skull, sticking firmly in.
    Joshua stood up, and grabbed both of his weapons, he didn’t want to be caught unready like that again. He took a moment to collect himself. He dusted himself off, and checked for any secondary wounds, a giant slash ran down his torso. On further inspection he saw that the combat armor, he wore had protected him against the mans fingernails, which he brandished like claws.
    The man he had tried to help now looked up at him from the flat of his back. A pool of blood quickly grew from the gash in this man’s head. As he wrenched the blade of his kukri free more blood and even grey matter spilled out across the pavement in the back alley. In all his years of combat, he had never seen a face that simply struck fear in his heart, as this one did now. In fact, in those first three, or four seconds, he realized that this was simply NOT a person at all, but the broken shell of what may have been a person some time ago. His still open eyes were massively dilated, and losing color. His skin had started to turn grey. He wiped off the knife on the attacker’s shirt, and jogged off, back to the main street. Answers, he thought to himself, I need answers, this doesn’t add up.
    Joshua moved down the road, searching for any clue available. He rummaged through garbage, and looked all over the streets. He broke into a house and started looking through mail. He moved through the house feeling dirty for breaking in. It just felt wrong walking through someone else’s home. He came across their home office and started going through papers. He found bills, solicitation, and a traffic ticket notice. He kept looking. He walked into another room. The sight that Davis saw next made his stomach turn. The bodies of two children lay on the floor, deep cuts ran across their decomposing corpses. Only his experience in combat kept him from throwing up. He quickly left that house, the image burning deeply in his mind, like a hot brand pressed against his conscience.
    Moving to another home he started searching for clues. No luck, another hour wasted, he moved on again. Another house searched, the sun was getting low.
    Two more homes defiled.
    Another neighborhood desecrated.
    More lives searched through, nothing interesting, time to move on.
    A red brick house stood before him, not the last house unsearched, but the last one he was going into. Breaking down the door he once more moved swiftly, picking apart the life of some other unnamed person, he was getting good at this, and it disgusted him. He saw a body, it was a short, elderly man, from what he could tell. Davis noticed a paper sticking out of his pants pocket. Delicately he reached in and pulled out his little discovery. He had found a newspaper in the man’s pocket that, although damaged significantly was at least partially legible. Unfolding the newspaper he read what had survived of the front page.


    Pandemic Spreads

    Thousands Die

    An illness that seems to be spreading from the northwest is ravaging across America. Interstates have been shut down and quarantine has been enacted. Schools, hospitals and many other public areas have closed due to the overflow of the illness. Much of the country is under marshal law as many of those infected have been acting out violently within three days of infection. It is unclear what causes this infection or what the long term effects are but a team of scientists has been working around the clock to determine the cause, cure, and symptoms of this sudden new disease. People are encouraged to avoid contact with the outside world as much as possible as it seems to be spreading through contact, and is unable to survive in the outside air. Because this sickness is not airborne it is believed that smaller towns and outlying villages should be safe from the spread of this infection, however everyone should keep open wounds covered and disinfected. Wash hands extremely often and take every precaution available against spreading illness. If anyone in your family begins coughing, sneezing, or acting strange or sick in anyway immediately call proper authorities. Food, water, and other ess…

    A giant tear ran across the width of the paper, losing everything else. Davis checked the date on the paper. January 29, 2020. This at least helped him a little bit, he knew he had slept for atleast 10 years, from the paper and the state of things. It answered his questions, but with more questions. But at least now he had a direction. North East, pretty vague direction, but enough for a road trip.
    Davis jogged back to his humvee and turned the key. This time it started without a problem. When he first broke out of his glass cage it must have been late at night, as after the hours of searching and driving, the moon was rising giving him light enough to drive away. Exhausted from a long and emotionally disturbing day, Davis knew he needed some rest, but not here in this ghost town. His humvee jumped up to speed and raced out of the small town that reeked of genocide He drove for an hour or two, and pulled off the road purely our of habit, no cars would be driving that road tonight. The humvee was built for efficiency and protection, not comfort. Joshua hopped out and grabbed a blanket and took off his armor. He laid the blanket down, and used the armor as a pillow, his pistol and blade rested by his side.

    Chapter 5, Hot lead, burnin’ rubber…
    January 4, 2059
    The sun woke Joshua up, shining brightly in his eyes and reflecting off his dog tags. He took a moment to observe these, watch the light playing across the worn and bent metal surface. Food! His stomach yelled to his brain. Come to think of it, it had been about a day since he had anything to eat. With all the concerns of yesterday, his mind had been swept elsewhere. Now consumed by hunger, he pulled a set of rations from the trunk of his armored coach and sat down to eat. Its not steak, but better than nothing. He thought to himself. Once finished with his meal he stood up, swept the crumbs off his battle dress uniform, and got under way. The armor was too uncomfortable to wear all day. So he left it sitting in the seat right next to him. Using the dashboard compass he made his way north and east, stopping at a gas station to run in and steal a map. Now with his bearings he had a purpose, sort of. The tattered newspaper that was now taped near the gauges only mentioned an area. The North West was pretty non-specific for directions. Still he pressed on, he had nothing else to go on. Otherwise this mystery would likely never be solved.

    PFC Davis jumped out of his humvee. He was now five hundred and fifty miles from where he had started, but his humvee had guzzled through all the fuel that had been in it when he took it from the motor pool. Unfortunately gas stations required power to pump gas, so he wouldn’t be getting any from there. Now as Davis and his humvee rumbled through a small farming village he spotted a diesel tank that would have been used by a rancher to fill up his equipment. He pulled up and was able to break the valve on the tank, funneling fuel into the tank. When his tank started overflowing he took out the emergency fuel container that he had already used to get this far. Then with enough gas to make it another six hundred miles, Joshua did his best to stop up the large diesel tank. He closed up his gas cap and got back in the driver’s seat. He drove off, he didn’t want to stick around and find the bodies, There were always at least a few bodies, everywhere he had driven it was the same, small towns destroyed. Bodies everywhere. No survivors. He felt lonely. Even in field operations, he was never alone. After years of working together he had come to trust and depend on his squad, and his spotter always had his back. Now he was more alone than he had been before. Their was no connection with another being. But he pushed onwards, through the inner pain.
    As Davis rolled out of the small town he saw that he was twenty miles from Chicago, if there were any survivors a major city like that would be likely to have them. As he drove into the city the hairs on the back of his neck stood erect. He was being watched. He strapped on his body armor, no need to take stupid chances, and rolled across the town driving down the enormous interstate. As Joshua got into downtown he saw a human, running for his life, with a pack of those things chasing him, they were quickly over taking him. Davis slammed on the gas, accelerating towards the group, he plowed over two of these mutant beasts, slammed on the brakes and grabbed his M4. He steadied himself by opening the door and resting his rifle in the window. In a second he sighted down the iron sights of his carbine and unleashed five rounds cutting down another three enemies. Unfortunately there were still two more chasing the sole survivor down a side alley. His sense of honor immediately overrode his instinct to avoid close quarters, and he charged headlong into the alley. As he rounded the corner he fired off several rounds. Another freak fell as a round ripped through its calf. But the last one had caught up to Davis’ hopes and was about to tear them to shreds.
    “NO! Stay away from them!” He screamed, ran, fired, all the actions blurred together in a single attempt to save the person he looked at as his soul mate. In that second, the pair were connected in his mind by the commonality they shared. Two shots would have killed that last foe. So he unloaded the clip on it, ripping it to shreds. He ran past the animal he had crippled by shooting in the leg, reaching the woman who now lay wounded in a pile of rotting trash.
    “My name is Private First Class Joshua Davis, I’m here to help you. I’m with the Army, and I will save you.” He felt that he was telling himself that more than her. He was now insecure, unsure of himself. He hoped that if his mouth said it, his body would make it come true.
    “I see you for what you are” she whispered, “what can the army do for anyone now? Your not a savior, you are a harbinger of death. You will destroy those around you, and eventually yourself. Crawl away into the shadows of death that you and these demons have ascended from.” The crippled mutant let out a ghastly scream. As the wail rang out across the city, echoing off the buildings, Davis jumped in shock and surprise. He had nearly forgotten that the infected creature was still there. He walked over to it and pulled out his side arm, firing twice, the bullets sank deep into his cranium. A high cracking laugh carried over to his ears, “Its too late, its already called for help,” the dying girl said. “Those things work together, to hunt and…” her voice was cut off by a horrible cough, blood came spewing out of her mouth. “You sought a life when you came here, but you shall not find shelter here, you will be food, and you will die a painful, death alone in this, this pla…” she began gasping, her body convulsing. Davis rushed to her side, but there was nothing he could do. He didn’t even have time to give her a real burial. Hollowness filled him from top to bottom. The weight of her words hung heavy on him.
    Howl’s now echoed across the city, responding in kind to the monster. Suddenly he heard the sound of feet on asphalt. He looked up as a group of mutated people ran past the alley. They were either grouping up, or searching, either way he had almost no time. He grabbed his M4, but he hadn’t grabbed any spare ammunition. He slung the strap over his shoulder and loosened his kukri in its position. He began to move back toward his humvee. Moving quickly but quietly he got out of the alley and reloaded his M4. Joshua Davis looked down the street and saw a single male who had significantly more defined muscles, surrounded by about fifty of the far more gaunt. The woman had said that they worked together, was it possible they had a hierarchy? Even animals in nature build communities. Suddenly Davis was spotted. The large male let out a scream and a dozen monsters split to attack Joshua. He jumped in the humvee’s turret and fired straight at the charging animals. The high powered machine gun fire cut through each one in a spray of dark red blood and tearing flesh, the heavy rounds blew holes and tore limbs. When he looked up from the bodies of his dead enemies, he saw that the rest of the pack had gotten away down a side alley. “This day just gets better and better,” he muttered under his breath. He moved out of the turret position and into the driver’s seat. He turned the key and popped the giant metal box into reverse. He took off trying to escape, this city was turning into a death trap. Every road that appeared to lead out of the city had been blocked off. He saw more and more mutants chasing him, jumping from roof to roof, running along side streets and even along his own street. He took a turn down another street and found it blocked off. From every other path dozens of enemies charged at him. He knew he had no time, he could not hold off this group forever. He grabbed his carbine and started scanning for an escape as he jumped out. The sewers! He ran over to a man hole and slipped a grenade under the cover, after he heard and felt the grenade’s report he turned on the flashlight mounted to his rifle and climbed down into the city’s dark underbelly.
    As his boots scraped the bottom Davis heard more screams and howls he moved off trying to put as much distance between himself and the manhole. He looked back and saw their shadows covering the manhole, they seemed to be arguing in strange grunts, barks, and growls. Then another grunt much deeper and louder than the others silenced all the rest, and overrode all doubts, mutants came jumping down. Joshua fired two rounds dropping the first two that reached the ground. It was a scare tactic, he couldn’t kill all of them, they would overwhelm him if they all came charging down. He took off running again. He wanted to keep distance between him and his foe, then again, these sewers might not be the best place for that. More howls and screams, now echoed around inside the sewers, mixing with the sound of Joshua’s elevated breathing and rubber boots thudding against a slick concrete walkway. They were catching up. He rounded a corner and kept running right into a dead end, literally. The path he was on ran fifty feet and ended in a concrete wall with a large pipe, about seven feet in diameter, sticking out about twelve feet off the ground. He spun around; his exit was closed off. This is going to get nasty. The group had come around the corner and was charging at him. Joshua backed himself up against the wall, braced for accuracy, and fired. Brass shell casings jingled as they bounced off the cement floor. It was a long hall, and he cut down a dozen of the strange men, but his carbine was empty. Davis threw aside the empty gun, raised his pistol, and emptied the clip, yet more foes poured into the hall. He pulled out his kukri; the long, curved blade glinted in the faint underground light, as if thirsty for blood. This was it, he was prepared to die, he had been prepared for a long, long time.
    The frontrunner was now only ten feet away, Davis stared straight into its yellow and red stained eyes. He side stepped the leader and brought the blade across his back, severing the muscles. He spun around and brought the blade across the next enemies chest; as he fell Davis slammed the kukri’s blade deep into the third one’s face, where it stuck fast. His foes closed in around him. He rose his hands in defense, curling his fingers into fists. He heard screaming echoing through the pipes over head. More mutated men jumped in through the pipes over head. Davis was slammed up against a wall, his head knocked hard against the concrete. He was dizzy, the world was growing fuzzy. He watched as they fought each other scrambling, biting, and scratching each other. “Well this sucks,” he muttered to himself.
    Private First Class Joshua Davis slumped down to the floor, surrounded by his foes, and succumbed to the darkness…

    Coming Soon:
    Chapter 9 - Slumber Party