Inferi Decretum: Chapter One

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22 March 2124, Settlement 3451-B 45 miles East of New Chicago in the forested region of location once known as Cedar lake. Medical Unit moved in at 0900 hrs and began assessment of settlers health. 1100hrs patrol found and neutralized one large panther after it was seen skulking about the perimeter. Reports say the undead was neutralized before it saw the patrol and was brought to the medical unit for analysis. 1700 hrs perimeter alarms sounded after three settler patrols were devoured and the settlement was over ran... Similar instances of small groups of individuals also filed reports of attacks to the East of New Chicago... Log ended

"Subject has a rather large contusion on the right side of the liver .. And has an interesting separation in the inferior vena cava. It seems the Panthers diverge in the way their physiology functions in comparison to most of the other subjects I have analyzed... Click" Dr. Astrid Williams turned off the voice recorder and set it next to the autopsy table. She was dressed in a lab coat, gloves, goggles as well as a face shield as she ran an autopsy on a panther that the guards in the area around the infantile settlement had killed. She had requested all undead bodies be brought to her lab for analysis upon death. The body was tall over 6 feet long and skeletal in form, it's jaw was extended longer then a human's normally would; allowing the creature to literally bite the entire head with its powerful dead jaws. Its fingers were longer than normal and instead of nails sharp bony protrusions showed from the ends of the fingers. The fingers themselves were coated with the black blooded goo of the zombie allowing for instant infection upon even the smallest scratch.

Infection would kill within ten minutes if not faster, so Astrid had to take extreme measures to keep her blood and the zombies blood from mixing. Upon infection the individual would get an elevated fever, chills, horrible pain, convulsions, then sudden death followed by awakening as an undead. She had seen it happen many times, some criminals in New Chicago were sentenced to death by infection for research purposes, but for the most part the government only allowed such practices to continue in the outlying settlements. She herself was not one for such horrible inhuman acts, unfortunately in order to receive the ability to practice as a Physician for the government she had to witness the behaviour and the infection process. Her eyes trailed to the cloudy white eyes of the corpse as it stared up at the bright lights of the mobile med surge unit, and a shiver coursed through her thin frame. She slid the body over to the large freezer units the government had supplied her and pushed the body into the locker shutting the door and locking it.

She then went about cleaning herself and every surface in the Positive pressure military medical unit. It was a full hospital mobile in every way able to be taken apart and put back together at any time in any place. They had been sent to this settlement in order to perform health exams on the settlers. A rather nasty flu had come through and killed about 10% of the population which was criminal considering how many years the government went into training them. Her eyes trailed back to the freezer and she frowned, something was odd about this... there shouldn't have been zombies in this area, and the fact that a panther had been shot in broad daylight made her wonder why. Panther's were notorious for tactical intelligence, they hunted in packs, and were stealthier then most humans could ever hope to be... but for some reason this one had just let itself be shot. She wondered if it was faulty somehow, but quickly shook her head and took the blood and tissue samples she had collected from the room. She locked the room behind her and travelled down the narrow hallway the sound of fans droned through the entire modular complex. She nodded to one of the other nurses as she heard the scream of sirens.

She hoped it was a drill though fear crept into her consciousness as she saw one of the government armed escorts sprint down the hall past her carrying a rifle and looked fear stricken. Her breath caught in her throat as she quickly turned around and went back in the morgue. She went in and grabbed her Colt .45 from the drawer slipping the magazine out, inspecting the rounds then slamming it back in place and flipping the safety off. She was refined, beautiful, and professional it seemed wrong for such a woman to be proficient with weaponry the way she obviously was. Though in this world.. one couldn't afford to not know how to use any weapon available to them.

Black smoke billowed into the pale blue sky, rolling and churning angrily as it ascended , casting shifting shadows on the land below. Gunfire echoed into the hills, along with faint, distant screams and faded as soon as they drifted up the outcropping. A line of men in military outfits, holding loaded rifles gazed down at the spectacle below in silence. The research station was located on a high elevation, hill that had been cut down the middle to make way for a road many years ago. The road was long gone, but the hill remained divided, offering a excellent vantage point to look down on the land below...what they saw was not pretty.

A small ragtag settlement of no more then two hundred people lay in the hollow below. High tin walls with barbed wire once surrounded the settlement, but had been pushed down by the stampeding horde of undead as they converged on the settlement from the east. Shacks made of rough-hewn lumber with thatched roofing and mud now burned brightly, sending up smoke, how the blaze started was unknown, but it did not waste time in spreading across the whole town, forcing people from their homes into the arms of their attackers. The people fought valiently, every weapon was brought to bear on their invaders. But even their full, desperate strength was not enough to save them, for as the people retreated, they found themselves hemmed in by the very walls that they once looked to for protection. The grim faced soldiers watched with a eerie sense of dispassion, there was nothing that could be done, the enemy was too great and they could not afford to loose more men then they already had to these creatures. The people would be avenged and put to rest, but they could not be saved, it was too late.

One man turned away from the spectacle " Turn 'im off !" he called out, jerking his thumb across his neck . The sirens fell silent and the lights ceased to flash and twirl " Back ta work, ya'll." he said, heading inside and nearly running into Dr. Williams as she neared the entrance. He moved aside to let her out and slipped in after she had moved out of the way, heading down the hallway to his quarter. Octavius had seen it all before, the death, the destruction, he had helped clean up after a settlement fell, disposing of the remaining undead and gathering what could be used before burning the rest. The bodies would have to be burned, burying them did no good out here when they would just be dug up and dragged out by the undead, some of which did not mind feasting of recently dead bodies..and it was not them, then it was the wolves and coyotes, they did not have the manpower to dig six foot graves for hundreds of people, they would start to rot before the time came and that was one thing that they did not need was more disease to deal with..no..they had learned a trick or two about burning bodies, they could burn them right and let the wind carry away their ashes where they would be truly free. Octavius threw his pack into his room, laying his rifle just inside the door. He laid a hand on the door frame and wiped his brow, a sigh coming from his throat..once again, he regretted letting himself get pulled into this mess.

White clouds and blue skies overhead, a single, very odd figure stood on a sparcely vegitated hilltop. Encased from head to toe in etems of clothing meant to conceal, Samuel Mako was probably the strangest thing walking around. In daylight at least. The black-sheathed boy was looking over the overturned remains of a pickup he'd trashed last night. Driving up the side of a hill with a top-heavy machine wasn't his best idea. A ton of his 'inventory' had spilled over, boxes and bags of seemingly random items collected over the course of roughly six months and the destruction of seven settlements. Thinking back on his last few homes, the teenager hissed a quiet sigh. Alot of people had died...some he had even grown close to...but that didn't mean that their stuff wasn't valuable anymore. That's just wasteful.

"Ok...now for the hard part..." he had gotten into the habit of talking to himself when alone, a common condition in this day and age.

Sam opened up a worn black gym bag and pulled a large red pull-wagon out of the wreckage, and kneeled over the mass of goods. Deftly using the only uncovered part of his body, his fingers, the young merchant began sifting through the contents of his stock pile. It was always a tough choice gathering what could be carried, what must be carried, what items of value would fit into a pack and what exactly would be needed in the near future. Not to say he didn't like doing it though.

Hmm...always need food and water...eww, that's probably bad by now. Need some ammo. My surgery kit...and a first aid kit to sell I guess. Jewelery is lightweight...oh! Everyone always needs porn mags in a post-apocalyptic world...fuel can be sold...some leight-weight guns...a couple car batteries. Oh yeah, t.p....really uncomfortable without it.

Each item was placed into either the wagon or the bag based on their weight and size. As each and every one was set into place, Sam marked them off of his new inventory list. It was obvious that the yellow note-pad had been used thougroughly, having a fair amount of pages torn out. The pen wasn't too much better, having several dents and a large bend near the tip from when Samuel had buried it in a shambler's eye.

"That it?" mentally counting off everyting, he seemed satisfied. He slung the gym bag over his shoulder and started pulling along the filled up wagon. It was about that time a siren went off somewhere behind him. A quick glance backwards revealed several streams of cloudy smoke rising into the air a few miles into or past the forest area.

A few moments of silent contemplation was all he needed.

"Not sure what that's all about..." Sam wasn't aware of any settlements in that area, "But it should be profitable. If there are people, they'll buy. If there are survivors, they'll need supplies. Aaaand, if they're all dead, I reap the bounty." with that, the tall merchant boy began heading toward the hills circumventing the forest.

Elle sighed, gently placing her black tope bag on the dirtied ground. Her current location was a little ways outside of New Chicago, a guaranteed safe zone from those monsters. Elle had been there before, it had the best business and she didn’t have to keep glancing over her shoulder every few minutes to make sure she wasn’t being targeted as zombie chow. Even humans couldn’t be trusted, not in her line of work anyway.

Looking down at her tope bag, Elle furrowed her brows and frowned. It was unusually light, at least lighter than it had been two days ago. Pulling out her log-book, Elle worked out she was about... was it half a mile or fourteen miles away from New Chicago? Damn it, she hadn’t logged anything in two days. According to the dingy signs and landmarks she had passed, she was in what used to be Highland Park. It would probably be another four hours before she reached New Chicago on foot. “I need a damn Rigger...” she muttered.

Ellesky Cross was by no means an Alpha Marksman or sniper, but damn, she had to admit she was good at what she did. She had her downsides, like the fact she completely freaked out on her last job and ended up missing her target completely. For God-sakes, you don’t sneak up on a girl with a 54 AM sniper rifle in her hands! She blew hair out of her face as she pulled a case of gun powder and a case of black powder out of the bag and started filling up little metal capsules.

Things hadn’t always been this way, there was a time she never knew how to make a mini-blaster. Hell, she never even knew what an MB was. She had travelled around from settlement to settlement with her family, looking to find safety in New Chicago City. When she was seventeen, her father had taught her how to use firearms and how to shoot with as much accuracy as possible.

“Damn...” she cursed. Weighing the two small brown cases in her hands, she realised she didn’t have as much of the explosive contents as she would have liked. She was no grenadier marksman, but she did have a bit of know-how when it came to gun-powder, and weapons that went bang in general. Finishing the job, Elle then went about connecting the two shells’ together. She had only put one half of the gun powder percentage she would normally use, but this was just a test to make sure she had done it right. She added about one third of average black powder. To little or too much gun power could either render it useless, or send everything and everyone sky-high within a thirty metre radius. They were only meant to scare whatever was coming near her, and she had mainly run into Shufflers so far. Bright side is, she had blown off a leg or two with these babies. The gun-powder was used as the explosive, while the black powder made sure it created a smog of black smoke when it exploded.

Running about eighteen feet away from her bag, she dug a small hole in the soft ground and then buried the MB so that it was virtually unnoticeable. Although if it were noticeable, it would probably look like an empty bullet case from an M2 machine gun. Staggering back as she stood up, she scurried back to her bag and carefully pulled out her 54 AM rifle; Birdie. She toted it up on her shoulder and using the microscope situated at the hilt, pushing down on the right thumb stick. Zooming in 10x, she locked in on her target – due to her photographic memory she can remember exactly where she leaves each MB – and pulled the trigger. The silencer made sure no loud noise was made, but that was a waste of time due to the MB blowing up on impact from her bullet and blowing small bits of earth left, right and centre. A small black cloud emancipated from the MB and with enough of them spread out in all directions, it would give her enough time to make a run for it if trouble showed up. That’s only if she got each shot in on all of them in time and split before the smog faded. Perfect timing was the key between life and death.

“Well,” Elle said as she lowered Birdie slightly off her shoulder, “It’s not gonna’ blow any legs off, but it’ll do. Sorry Birdie,” she petted the weapon lightly, “I know I’m wasting ammunition, but it’s the only way I can make sure they’ll all go off properly. By the time I’m done with these, there won’t be any more powder left and we’ll have to make due when we get to New Chicago. I just hope someone needs a job done by an inexperienced marksman.”

Out in the middle of nowhere, you had to come prepared at all times. Elle had used up her medical supplies on all the scrapes and bruises she sustained through her little tousles. Her water was running on low, and food was currently non-existent. She needed business and fast. She doubted someone in dire need of help would just waltz passed her and offer up food and supplies for her services. Currently, she had no name in her marksmanship field and people were wary of hiring someone that had no reputation to do their dirty work.

“Maybe there’s a settlement somewhere around here.”

Elle placed Birdie back in her black bag and then proceeded to place each of her little explosives around her current resting place. Elle was lazy, that was no lie, and she hated walking. In fact, she had to take a nap once a day just to make an hour’s walk before passing out. She was a desert rat through and through, but there came a time when being on your own became something along the lines of insanity.

Tilting her head as she was burying the last of her MB’s, Elle squinted her blue eyes and stood up from her kneeling position. Placing her hand over her eyes, she tried to see past the falling sun and noticed smoke coming from a long way away. Maybe about another thirty miles or so... whatever made that smoke had to have been big. “Looks like I was headed in the right direction then...” she muttered to herself, “Meh, what do I care? It’s their problem.”

Turning around, she shrugged once and went to sit on top of a broken hedge stone. She ran her slim fingers through her knotted dark hair, her head still tilting towards the tiny flare of smoke in the distance. “I’m no hero, I don’t owe anyone anything.”

And she kept to that word. Though she did wonder if she was missing out on some material booty as she laid her body down on the cool rock. She’d try and get some suitable shelter once the sun went down.

"I need a smoke..."

The idling engine of his motorcycle cut short as he sat atop his bike. He knew that it was not the optimum vehicle for the terrain, despite the fact that the sidecar helped to add a bit of stability to it. and the machine gun could offer some extra punch to anyone who would choose to sit there. He watched over the mostly overrun settlement, zombies milling about eating the flesh off of their fallen brethren . That terrible scent of burning flesh dead, and undead alike filled the air. As he stood vigilantly he began to count them, shufflers and panthers mulling about, he was careful to keep an eye on the closest Panther. He did not want one of them to get the idea that his head would be an easy meal.

Behind him the hustle and bustle of the surviving settlers cleaning up, and preparing to salvage what they could of the settlement was much more uplifting. He heard the motions of the mobile hospital still being set up. Finally that damnable alarm stopped going off. as if anyone inside a mile would not have been able to smell what was going on. Though as it cut off he swallowed hard; just the thought of all of those people dead. It wasn't anything new, and it wans't like they weren't trained and capable. Everyone alive now had training in weaponry of some kind. It is why they had lived this long. He was not looking forward to the next several hours.

Sentry duty was never fun in a settlement that had been partially overrun. All that you did was sit there, looking back and forth across the field of people that you once knew as your fellow humans as they were picked apart and consumed by your enemy. Maybe that was why he never made any friends he thought to himself. The edge of battle has a way of turning even distant men into close brothers. Still this was the one time that he was glad he never formed any such connection. The thought of watching someone like that, a brother, being torn limb from limb and eaten was sickening. As the first Drifter showed up he could not help but think that at least he could shoot the zombies if they got too close.

Drifters and refugees, come to take up the supplies of the weakened communities. It made him sick. Didn't they know there was strength in numbers. They might survive a bit longer, but for how long?... Their only chance at winning was to stick together, there was a government trying to organize and make sense of the chaos, looking out for the welfare of mankind. If he had his way they should be shot on site and their goods confiscated for government allocation. Unfortunately that would paint the government in a poor light, and encourage the revolutionaries and diminish the chance that humanity would survive.

Lastly he knew that honest nomads would come through, looking to see what they could trade or sell here, and what they could loot from the dead. A lot of people found the practice to be apprehensible, stealing from the dead, but supplies were short, and even the government did it. He did not have a particular issue with those who did as long as they stuck to the dead and the infected. What he didn't like was all the questions they asked. 'How many died here? how are supplies?' Other questions like that asked by all the ones that came, all answered by prepared statement, over and over as the Nomads didn't believe it. It was all for the greater good though. People did not understand that losses were going to occur and that this government was better than no government or even worse a struggle for power. He pulled the walkie up to his mouth, "Nineteen hundred hours, southern front holding steady."

The hospital was someplace Alexander went to every few months because by then he'd usually have completed a contract and ripped open several scars.He would get them patched up and would get stern warning from the doctor's but they knew he would always be back with a new scar and a new tale.The Hippocratic oath kept his "condition" under wraps and they were genuinely nice people who enjoyed Alexander's tales,well the ones that were legal at least.Of course thoughts like this only popped up whenever he was leaving the hospital with his purse a touch lighter and some part of his body (this time it happened to be his arm) and he spent little to no time pushing these thoughts out of his head as he walked out of The Chicago memorial hospital.

His boots were inaudible once compared to the roar of people who moved with a sense of urgency that led him to chuckle,Why the hurry?You've spent so long being brainwashed by the government that death would be preferable by now.He chuckled again as he saw the hypocrisy in his statement,Why do you keep fighting then?"Because I still have someone to fight for."he muttered,which got a few stares from the crowd but it never lasted long because they needed to keep working for the good of all.All these morbid thoughts did nothing for his stomach however and Alexander fished a small biscuit from one of his many pockets and popped it in his mouth,letting it sit there and melt from the saliva before he chewed the remains and swallowed them.

While he ate another cracker in a similar fashion Alexander threaded his way through the city and towards the gate,the sound of gunfire from the wall merely meant that he could walk in the area of the wall where his tent was without fear.No one would be allowed in during an attack but the men in charge of the guns would never shoot a human unless they were openly hostile.So Alexander walked through New Chicago and after a quick talk with the gate keepers was allowed to leave.A quick circle around the walls to find his tent and Alexander spent a few minutes cleaning Sasha and let his thoughts drift towards Elizabeth.I'll find you....I swear to god I'll find you.His mind wandered to the times they had when in the compound before that bitch that fucking bitch ripped her away from him.

Alexander's arms subconsciously squeezed the rag he was holding as he remembered what she did to him;every day he stood with the testament to her cruelty and he could only pray that Elizabeth hadn't suffered from it as well.He remembered when she gave him Sasha as a gift when he was seven and how his mother had taken it away until he was ten and even then she made the guards teach him how to use it until she...Alexander snapped out of his thoughts once he realized that he had squeezed all of the oil out of the rag."Ugh Dio."he muttered,allowing his Italian ancestry to leak out a bit as he let the rag soak the oil back up.

Astrid put her .45 in the back of her jeans pulling her tank top and lab coat over the top of it as she grabbed the samples and headed down the hall to the lab. They had only just gotten the unit attached to the rest and she quickly made her way into the room nodding to Lieutenant Cynthia Stokes as she came in. The lab was filled with various large machines all of which were draped in plastic at the moment. There were a couple blood drawing chairs on the side of the room but for the most part the long compartment that would fit on a flat bed rig was for medical machinery and drug storage. Astrid set the samples on the intake table, the Lt looked over at her and smiled. Stokes was a kind looking older woman probibly 40 or so, she had worked in the laboratory sector of the government for the last 10 years and had seen far more horrible things then Astrid could ever really imagine.

"Stokes.. . I take it the sirens were nothing too troublesome?” Astrid asked casually as she put gloves on to prepare her samples.

”Nothing that we need to worry about Williams .. the settlement is over ran and most of the settlers are dead. The undead seem to be keeping to the settlement and our guards have set up a perimeter.” Astrid hated the fact that where as she was “the head of the Medical Unit” she always ended up being the last one to know anything. The true head of the unit seemed to be her guards, and they rarely spoke to her much less let her know about the comings and goings of the place.

”That.. well.. .......Son of a bitch?! When were they going to tell me this?!” Astrid snarled slamming her fist against the stainless steel counter top. The vials with samples vibrated from the impact as Stokes looked over at her and shrugged in a totally apathetic manner. She couldn’t take it! She was just going to start screaming! No one listened, no one even liked her.. she had spent four months doing settlement rotations only to be utterly ignored! She was placed over everyone in the unit straight out of training, not to mention the fact that everyone resented her odd orders, her odd fascination with the undead, and the fact that she was so shy that she hadn’t talked for the first month. Most people thought she was snooty and bitchy, in truth she just loved her work.

Everyone just moved around her and ignored her. Astrid blushed horribly realizing how foolish she had just acted and then quickly left her samples and the lab heading for the exit. She was nearly bowled over by one of the government highered mercenaries as he came through the door, though he quickly stood to the side and let her past. Her eyes looked over the tall black man for a moment, though he didn't even seem to acknowledge her. Corporal Franklin was a typical grunt, not much up stairs and one of those horrible people that always made her repeat herself over and over to get him to do what was needed to be done. The first settlement they had stopped at this rotation he had flat out told her he would not bring her undead killed by his patrols. She had to pull rank and get issued orders to get the undead bodies brought in for inspection and samples.

He was one of the few people that she didn’t care that he hated her, in truth she hated him, he was an ignorant fool that given the chance would light everything on fire and leave nothing to study. She slipped outside looking around, the air was choked by smoke and the dead smell assaulted her nose, though it was a smell she was used to. She walked up to the fence and looked down into the settlement, forms shuffled about the smoke, and as she saw one move about with an arm hanging loosely by a single strand of sinew she understood the reason for the alarms. There had to be over 50 of the forms moving through the smoke. Her eyes watched everything took in everything only to end up seeing what she had hoped to see. Crouched over a body was a long gangly undead it was larger than the rest and looked a bit deformed as its body pulled and ripped at the flesh of one of the victims. It was a good 200 feet away and mostly covered by smoke. The rest of the Undead on the other side of the fence and down the hill were busy eating what was there or shambling about the way they happened to normally.

The panther however was beautiful graceful and something that made her skin prickle. It was perfect, the lines of its dead form utter perfection, genetics to its highest, and chaos to function at its most impressive. She gripped the fence and leaned against it trying to get a better view of the creature as it pulled huge chunks off of the body and swallowed them. The fence she was leaning against twanged loudly catching the attention of all the undead including the panther. One of the guards ran over and grabbed her by the shoulder spinning her around and glaring at her.

”Why don’t you go back inside and do your work.. we have things handled here Commander.” The tall muscle bound man looked down at her like she was an ignorant child and raised his hand back to the medical arches. She blushed and nodded trying to look as dignified as possible as she walked back to the medical complex. The loud thunder of gunfire graced the air and she jumped slightly quickening her pace and running inside shutting the door behind her. The gun fire continued for a moment only to be stopped by roar of laughter at her expense. She wilted and walked back down the hallway towards her quarters she paused and looked at Franklin as he leaned against the door frame. She wanted to say something to him, but she couldn’t find the words.. everything stuck in her throat as she looked at his pained pose and expression.

---

Not far to Sam’s side was the narrow newly scraped road towards the settlement, trees arched over the dirt road that resembled a trail rather than an actual road. The sun was beginning to set to the west leaving creepy shadows that overhung the road; up through the trees a good four miles down the trail smoke could be seen wafting through the forest. Though people at the medical unit, as well as people who might venture up the road farther wouldn’t notice the six panther’s hidden in the branches of the trees. While the other panthers had moved into the settlement to the East these had circled around to ambush any of the prey that had moved away from the horde of undead. One of the panthers was already sweeping through the tree line following the over burdened man as he walked towards the smoke slipping from the now derelict settlement. Once he came within the trees the others would follow him until he reached a point where the canopy was low enough for them to grab him and pull him into the trees. From there the six of them would rip him stem from stern and eat what they didn’t fight over.. of course that was what would happen if there was no resistance.

Doodeedoodeedoo....

The internal humming was one of the few things that helped to keep that annoying squeak of the wagon wheels from driving him insane. Night was fast approaching the the trees as well as the hillsides were casting long shadows. About fifteen feet to his right, up a grassy incline lie a fairly used dirt road. Sam, of course, was oblivious to this fact as a relatively thick treeline combined with the hillside obscuring his view. In any case, the fading light and deep shadows they cast were quite unnerving. That damned squeaking only accentuated the eerie feel of the area. Just for safety's sake, the riot-shotgun was strapped tightly to the small of his back by three threads sewn into the jacket.

"Well...I should get a light started."

Patting himself down, Sam pulled out thin flashlight from a seemingly random pocket of his jacket. A sigh of relief escaped his fabric-covered lips and the teen pulled down the facemask to reveal nearly black colored eyes while still covering nose and mouth. The orbs had a single dark line under each, a clear sign of lack of sleep. After a couple clicks the a particularly bright beam of light issued forth from the tiny rod of metal. A couple seconds of eye adjustment revealed that the sun was sinking even faster than expected.

Just great. he thought miserably, At least I don't feel like sleeping today...

Sam kept on with his walk and shifted the flashlight from side to side in order to get a glimpse of his surroundings. In his distraction with the ground ahead, the merchant boy stumbled. He caught himself but the light fell to the ground, spinning as it went. The flourecent shaft of light flashed over the treeline for the briefest of moments, and a soft growl broke the still evening air just before the flashlight cracked on a rock.

Breath caught, and his blood pounded in his ears. Shit.

Slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements, Sam reached down to unzip a camo-print sack on the top of the wagon. Only one thing was in the small bag, but the kid always kept one near at hand; A claymore.

With a sudden lurch the dark teen was in motion. The gym bag hanging from his side did little to impare his movement, and boy was he moving. At about the same time five sickly-thin forms burst out of the foliage about twenty feet behind him now. The panthers made no attempt to conceal themselves at this point, and a heavy wet rasp signaled the freaks excited panting. Sam was unleashing a stream of muttered curses and readying his 'toy'. The fifty-foot wire was unwound from the mine in a blur of motion and he clutched the switch to it with a deathgrip in his left hand. The panthers had already covered five feet in the span of a few seconds, moving switly in a tight squad of muscled death. The lithe boy leaped about three feet into the air and swung his midsection to turn in mid air, facing the panthers for split second...and spiking the claymore into the soft earth roughly seven feet ahead of the panthers.

Sammy-boy was smiling as his feet made contact with the ground. He had his right hand raised with the 'bird' flyin' high. His thumb clicked down on the detonator.

Fuck you.

His forward momentum sent him surging forward in a tumble. He had rolled himself into a ball to avoid too much damage, and even the rough ride did little to dim the boy's elation. The claymore erupted in a blast of concussive flame and shrapnel just as the group of panthers bounded over it. Maximum damage. The three in the center of the beastial formation were reduced to little more than ash and skin flecks, and the outside two had pretty much half of their bodies blown apart. Finally Sam's roll slowed and he popped up onto his feet and grinned widely beneath the fabric of the covering.

"Fuck yeah! You think your so damned smart just cuz' you know to travel in packs?! Well that's what killed ya bitches! What, now, bitc-"

Another panther lunged forth from the trees barely ten feet from the gloating teen. He had inadvertantly moved a tad closer to the road in his mad dash. No matter. Mr. Boomstick was ripped out of the threadings and aimed at the airborne undead.

Boom.

Octavius felt a pair of eyes on him and looked up to see Doctor Williams looking at him. He straightened, annoyance lurking just underneath his pose..what did she want from him now ? "Ma'am." he greeted her, reaching into his room to fetch a tightly woven Kevlar belt with two combat knives in old worn sheathes, one appearing older then the other. He clipped the belt about his waist, twisting it a bit so that it snugged up against the hem of his pants " Real shame about that town..I reckon you'll get quite a few new specimens come mornin'." he said "I'll be sure ta bring as many back as I can, Doctor Franklin, don't worry 'bout it." he said. He stood at ease once his belt was fastened, she was the commanding officer and all, even if she was a snob and out of her damn mind. But, he knew that if he brought her her samples then she would not complain.

He had planned to head straight to the settlement via APC and shred the zombies with the heavy guns, then search the houses and see if there was anyone left alive, they could treat wounds here on base, unless they were bites..those could be handled on site, quickly and painlessly. His men were thinking the same thing that he was, already the APC had been fired up and was pulling around front. If they left now then they would be able to clean house down at the settlement before night came in. Octavius would carry no gun, he had never killed a undead with a gun before..he was the kind of guy that liked to get up close and personal with those creatures before putting it down..though with some zombies it would not work so well, but he had always managed to put one down without using a gun, one way or another.

It would take them a little while to get there, a hour, hour and a half..it was not that far, but there was a fair bit that had to be done in order to get the APC ready for a trip at night, the lights had to be set up and the guns made ready to fire..they were going to be back in after dark, so they needed to be prepared for anything that might happen out there.

Octavius felt a pair of eyes on him and looked up to see Doctor Williams looking at him. He straightened, annoyance lurking just underneath his pose..what did she want from him now ? "Ma'am." he greeted her, reaching into his room to fetch a tightly woven Kevlar belt with two combat knives in old worn sheathes, one appearing older then the other. He clipped the belt about his waist, twisting it a bit so that it snugged up against the hem of his pants " Real shame about that town..I reckon you'll get quite a few new specimens come mornin'." he said "I'll be sure ta bring as many back as I can, Doctor Franklin, don't worry 'bout it." he said. He stood at ease once his belt was fastened, she was the commanding officer and all, even if she was a snob and out of her damn mind. But, he knew that if he brought her her samples then she would not complain.

He had planned to head straight to the settlement via APC and shred the zombies with the heavy guns, then search the houses and see if there was anyone left alive, they could treat wounds here on base, unless they were bites..those could be handled on site, quickly and painlessly. His men were thinking the same thing that he was, already the APC had been fired up and was pulling around front. If they left now then they would be able to clean house down at the settlement before night came in. Octavius would carry no gun, he had never killed a undead with a gun before..he was the kind of guy that liked to get up close and personal with those creatures before putting it down..though with some zombies it would not work so well, but he had always managed to put one down without using a gun, one way or another.

It would take them a little while to get there, a hour, hour and a half..it was not that far, but there was a fair bit that had to be done in order to get the APC ready for a trip at night, the lights had to be set up and the guns made ready to fire..they were going to be back in after dark, so they needed to be prepared for anything that might happen out there.

"Ma'am." Corporal Franklin said as he glared at her standing a bit more ridged at her presence.

" Real shame about that town..I reckon you'll get quite a few new specimens come mornin'." His voice holding a deep stabbing sourness "I'll be sure ta bring as many back as I can, Doctor Williams, don't worry 'bout it."

Astrid just looked at him wide eyed and shocked, but what did she expect from a idiotic fool of a man that was an utter thorn in her side. Her cheeks flushed as she tried to think of something a commander should say, though the only things that were coming to mind were not appropriate at all; several of the words being four letter and rather foul. Her hazel eyes narrowed as her cheeks flushed more, she was horribly embarrassed that she was letting such a Neanderthal fiend give her lip. So she pushed the only front she had seemed to master.. snooty bitch.. God.. no wonder everyone hated her.

"Thank you Corporal.... be sure to bring me newly infected.. even our own men if possible.. the fresher the specimens the better after all." She glared at him wanting to slap him in the face for his ignorance and narrow minded views. Though her words made her uneasy.. could she really work on someone she knew after they had been infected? God no.. why the hell did she say that?! Then she opened her mouth again not being able to let it stop there.. after all if she was going to play the evil psycho scientist well she had to do it right.

"And make sure your men have the same orders so that if you are infected they can bring me you as a specimen.. do try and get bit by a panther.. or even a beast would be wonderful.. I mean if you’re going to be kind enough to get me the freshest possible sample.. might as well sacrifice yourself in the name of science.. Then you would have some usefulness here." At that she turned on her heels and marched for her room slamming the door to the small cell like room as hard as she could. She leaned against the door with her head pressed back and her eyes closed. "Oh god.. what did I just say? I can't believe I just said that?!" She cringed and sank to the floor putting her face in her hands and tried to hold back tears.

She hated the fact they could not save those people, but she also loved the fact she could be soo close to the things she normally only saw dead, it was horrible and exciting all at the same time. She didn't really care about the samples, not really... what mattered was helping the people saving as many as they could. Though not that anyone really cared what she thought, she of course was the evil bitch of a woman that the government had sent in to gather data at any cost.... so she was already a bitch on wheels before they met her. "EH! I hate that fucking asshole!" she snarled and grabbed her .45 that was jabbing into her back and threw it across the room. She winced when it clattered to the floor happy the safety had been on at least. "Damn it Astrid.. your loosing it." She took a deep breath collected herself and got up.. she had to make sure everyone was ready to receive wounded.. not that any one of them would listen to her instruction.. but at least she could do something useful rather than be locked away in her room thinking of ways to kill Corporal Franklin.

Franklin made his way out of the compound, his lips a thin line on his face..oh, she would get a fresh sample alright..in charge or no, he was not about to take that from some intellectual white bitch. He stepped out into the fading light, the APC was idling near the door. Franklin came up to the side and called out " Alright !" he called out " We are pulling out in thirty, no later !" he said " We have to get to that village before nightfall." he said
Exactly thirty minutes later, the APC roared out of the camp, turning down the worn dirt road towards the town at a good pace. Franklin opened the foremost hatch and borrowed a pair of binoculars from a underling and looked through them, focusing on the still burning settlement. Dust billowed from under the wheels as they approached the tin walls of the settlement. Franklin leaned down into the APC and yelled out his instructions. He wanted him to head towards the left side opposite to where the undead had broken in and run over the wall, that would bring them right in front of the mass of undead. Once they had then lined up, He would have his men open fire and take down as many as they could and then exit the veichle. They would know what to do after that, split up in groups of three with one group operating the guns on the APC. The other groups would head into each house carefully and call out for survivors.

The APC roared loudly as it sped up a bit, slamming against the tin wall, which crumpled with a screech and groan. As Franklin had said, the main bulk of the undead was right before them "LIGHT EM UP !!" yelled Franklin as he ducked down. The walls on either side of the vehicle flickered rapidly as the guns laid into the mass of undead, which fell faster then scythed wheat, piling on top of each other. The bullets ripped the undead to shreds, even if they were not dead, they would not have enough body mass left to attack. It took less then ten seconds to reduce all the undead to a lumpy putrid paste. The back of the APC opened and then ten soilders rushed out, rifles to the shoulder and started to immediately check the houses nearest the APC, calling loudly for anyone that might be alive or trapped.

Progress had been slow in the dying sunlight, Sam having only covered half of the ground he could have during the daytime. He was traveling on the dirt path now, as it seemed safer now that the immediate threat-that he was aware of at least-had been disposed of. Every few seconds drew a look towards the surrounding trees for any signs of movement. In the half hour of travel there had been a small group of shamblers and some scattered undead individuals, but those were nothing compared to the panthers. All of them though, seemed to be heading in the same direction as Sam. Towards the settlement. In any case, he had taken a few blood samples from the panthers and lesser zombies. Scientists paid pretty well for the fresh stuff.

"Fabulous." he muttered.

The gym bag was closed and still slung over his shoulder, and the 'boomstick' was still in his right hand. Sam was gripping the gun so hard his knuckles went white...he wasn't going to be caught unawares again. His left arm however, hung limply at his side. It had been dislocated in the last panther ambush and Sam hadn't found the time to pop it back into place. Now he knew though, blasting a hole in a panther's head did nothing to keep it's heavy ass from slamming into him. The pain wasn't too bad anymore, just a dull ache at this point as Sam had popped a couple pain killers immediately after the incident. Walking down the path some orange-red lights were coming into view just over the next rise...fires?

Finally...if it's just a bunch of slow-ass zombies I'll be able to pick off some goods. a loud grinding sound could be faintly heard, A car? People! Hell yeah! Been a while since I had any good conversation!

Before he did anything though, the black-clad youth charge a tree with his left side forward. Just before impact a quick turnsent his arm flying to the side and...

POP!

Sam spun to the ground and bit down on his lower lip to suppress a scream. He was breathing heavily and his vision burred with tears, even with the pain killers active the pain was excrutiating. If the boy hadn't read up on the skeletal system a couple months ago, that arm would have most likely snapped instead of been forced back into it's socket. The tears trickled down his cheeks before being soaked up by the mouth covering facemask. With a grunt he hefted his entire body up and flexed the fingers on his left arm while rotating and bending the joints. It was sore as hell, but nothing some ice and rest wouldn't fix. Gripping both handles, Sam sprinted over the last ridge of the dirt road...to behold a mass of zombified horrors gouging and feasting upon the dead and dying. It didn't really phase the teen. He raised the riot shotgun and bared it with both hands, preparing to fire and run.

"Shitfuckinabasket." his voice was a low mesh of words.

As the first of the creatures turned their drippy, pupilless gaze towards their newest snack a wicked armored vehicle came gunning it over the ridge opposite to Sam.

"LIGHT EM UP !!" boomed a voice even deeper than Samuel's own gave an order the merchant had only heard in movies from the last generation.

Not to say the kid didn't know what was coming. A hail of bullets followed seconds later, decimating the force of undead and reducing most to gory spatters on the dusty ground. By this time Sam was pressed flat on the ground and staring with clear interest wondering what kind of settlers had this kind of firepower. He saw some people hop out of the armored transport and begin checking the nearby structures for survivors by yelling. Finally, the gunfire ceased and the remaining undead in the area were negligable at best. Sam arose and dusted himself off, shotgun hanging loosely at his side in a non-threatening posture.

"Hey! Ya mind holdin' the bullets for a second? I am by no means a zombie, and I might even have something you..."

Uniforms. Standardized firearms. The armored vehicle. It all made sense now.

Feds.

His mouth formed the gestures but no words would come out. Government-types were nothing but trouble, using marshal-law and shit as justification for confiscating an honest merchant's goods. Sam just froze, the headlights of the government vehicle shining on his form.

As one of the nomads came up to the village in his worn down dune buggy Casey couldn't help but notice that the belts sounded very worn. The guy had better get those looked out before she broke down on him. People always said that they had terrible luck, that their vehicles gave out on them at the worst possible minute. Ah, no that wasn't it at all they just didn't take care of their babies, then when they were pushing them to get out of a tight jam they'd bust. People would always blame the machine. He never really did understand that. As the weary nomad pulled up to the gates and opened his mouth Casey spoke. "No the settlement has not been overrun, there is a counter strike planed to go off soon. Yes some supplies were lost in the fire, but I have not been made aware of the extent and am not authorized to speak with you on it. I don't know anyone in the town and we have everything under control, Come on in or move along don't just sit there."*The words came out in a practiced preprepared string carrying authority with them.*

Just then he heard the cling of the metal of the chain link fence. His head snapped over in that direction , then quickly down to the horde of zombies, 20 or so coming up the hill toward the compound., he took aim, plenty of time to do so he aimed at the head of the shuffler, pulling the trigger. As the head of the first one was littered with pellets, he did not wait to see it fall before he took aim again at a second. Hearing the eruption of gunfire from along the fence, never needing to fire a second shot, the hail of gunfire taking down the row of the reanimated that were coming up toward them. He looked back to the nomad, who had pulled out his gun, but gotten no further than that before the small rush was stopped and he turned back to look at the Nomad. Only to find him turning and moving away. "Guess he didn't want to trade that badly." He mumbled to himself giving a little chuckle as Dr. Williams retreated so hastily at the gunfire. For someone who had no fear trying to get as close to them as she could she sure was a skidish woman.

Nightfall was nearing as he was given orders to continue watching the settlement and watch out to make sure that they were not being surrounded as they moved through the settlement. It looked like he would be left out of this one, no real need for another gun in the APC, close combat was what they needed. He accepted his orders with a nod. and watched as the APC took care of the first wave, and as the men fanned out and began to look for survivors. He kept a careful eye on the roofs, knowing that would be the most likely place for a successful ambush to originate.

The men started their sweep of the city going through the buildings there; one group, split into teams of two. He was watching the roofs of the buildings, though from this distance it was difficult, and a full half of each of the roofs was shielded from his view. He saw as one of the men was grabbed by a panther, hauled up onto the roof, before being mowed down by the firepower already there. He kept watching though he doubted he would see much of anything from the hill where he was as the group continued to sweep the settlement, gunfire erupting a couple more times as another panther and then a pair of shamblers ran across the strike team.

Then he heard a gunshot and a flash through the smoke, he looked over that way, the shadowy form of a person barely visible, and the Zombie that stalked it too far off in the distance to be visible. He lifted his walkie to his lips to get the strike team over there before the zombies had a chance. "Southern watch to Strike Team 1 Survivor located in sector Delta 5. I repeat Survivor located in Delta 5."*He continued to watch, his eyes peeled as he raised his gun, not taking aim, but ready to fire should need be. The strike team would still have to proceed carefully to avoid becoming casualties themselves, and a lot could happen in a short time.

He continued to watch as the survivor just stood there, seeming to glance from sound to sound for a few seconds, The next thing he knew another Panther was flying through the air toward the surviver; bang, bang, bang, three more shots were fired and the panther fell limply atop her. The wall collapsed off to her side and the air blewing away some of the smoke and revealing six shamblers, making their way toward the trapped survivor. The shot was a fairly long one, he took out his 32 round clip and replaced it with the clip of FRAG-12's before he took careful aim down at the zombies.

The one second closest to her seemed a good target and the front one would shield the survivor from the shrapnel. He fired, aiming for where the neck met the torso. The first round was sent flying toward the group of zombies as the next round in the clip was chambered he fired for the second from the back. The first round impacted right on target. The small grenade exploded blowing the head clean off the body, and tearing the body to shreds sending a large amount of shrapnel into the one in the front, leaving it unable to more than crawl toward anything.The second one hit a bit low, center mass of the one there, blowing a huge hole in it as the head fell straight landing on the ground with a squish, and shrapnel hitting the middle two, too far back for the survivor to be inside the effective range. He fired two more rounds toward the one in the back, the first hitting him above center mass with similar results to the first shot. The last shot hit the ground, showering the two remaining ones with shrapnel, crippling them and leaving their legs as nothing but dead weight.

He picked up his walkie quickly once more. "Southern patrol to Strike commander. Survivor pinned in sector Delta 5, three Zombies crippled but active, visibility low, pattern suggests more will be inbound. Please advise. I repeat Survivor pinned in sector Delta 5, three zombies crippled but active, visibility low, pattern suggests more will be inbound. Please advise." He set the walkie down, looking out carefully trying to squint through the smoke there to catch any glimmer of motion as he waited for further orders, his pulse quick hard and steady through it. He was far from the encounter just where he liked to be for once, and the situation was under control...For now at least.

In Alexander's line of work he had of course made many enemies, some with the government some with the refugees in the area. Though the most profound enemy was a group of six brothers called the Wiskeys. Where as individualy they were not a problem, as a group they had nearly leveled three bars in New Chicago. A contract had been put on the third oldest for killing a man with a chair during one of the variouse brawls, the price tag rather good and of course being the good sell sword that Alex was he had braught the target in without too much trouble really. Well.. the 5 other brothers didn't really like the fact that their brother was locked away for the next 15 years, and decided to take the time out of Alex's skin.

Not long after Alex settled in his tent the normal sound of people moveing about the camps was heard cars, buggies, bells, laughing, screaming, crying, and about every other sound humans were acustom to hearing blared through the thin linen walls. Sadly one thing he didn't hear was the lines being tied to the 4 corners of his tent, shadows cast by the wall had blocked any chance of seeing the smallest of the 6 brothers stealthily tieing the ropes and signaling his eldest to drive the truck full speed through the camp. There was a small chance that Alex had noticed the sound of the smallest brother pulling back right before the tent colapsed on him, but that remained to be seen.

The truck peeled out going from 0 to 60 in 30 seconds flat the ropes had been tied in such a way as to completely wrap about the person inside the tent and drag them through the camp at 60 miles an hour. The oldest brother made sure to swirve the truck towards the wall then pull away quickly making it rather interesting as the tent swong out hopefuly with Alex in it hitting the wall with enough force to break half the bones in his body.

Whenever your mind is busy cursing parental figures and reminiscing lost sweethearts you don't have much interest in the surrounding area.Maybe if he'd stopped wiping and reloading and unloading Sasha as he thought he would have heard the brother's feet pattering around his tent and he might have been able to do something about it.Life is full of what ifs like that and Alexander only had enough time to snap Sasha shut before he was ripped off of his feet and dragged along with the rest of his tent objects.Alexander twisted and writhed in his new prison and the bile of fear rose from his throat as he remembered his times in the keep.He fought it back down and fired off three shots into the fabric of the tent a smile gracing his lips as he heard a groan of pain and the thump of someone falling to the ground.

The spinning took a very unpleasant turn as Alexander emptied the contents of his stomach but managed to grip the holes he'd made with his bullets and ripped a hole in the tent.What ensued was akin to what Alexander thought being in an airplane with a hole blown in it would have been like.The air and his possessions all came rushing out of the hole along with a knife that embedded itself into his pinky."FUCKING SON OF A CRAPPING BITCH ASS!!!"Alexander let out a string of largely unrelated curse words as he ripped the knife out and turned to see his attempted captors,he quickly snapped Sasha open and shut to check her contents;three bullets left.The truck was already too far away to catch up to so Alexander turned back to check on the person he'd shot and was only mildly surprised to find that it was one of the wiskey brothers.

He was curled up and whimpering from three bullets,in his arm,leg and shoulder.Of course this particular whisky brother would never be able to use that arm or walk normally again but if you mess with the bull...well everyone knows how that particular saying goes.A quick blow to the head from Alexander's trusty Sasha left him on the ground passed out and Alexander sighed in resignation;of course the sound of a truck barreling towards him ended that resignation and he took several frantic steps to the right to avoid the truck barreling towards him.The sickening crunch as the wheels passed over their brother's body barely fazed him and he unloaded another bullet into the car's windshield,taking down the man in the passenger seat."Two bullets."Alexander told himself as the man driving the truck jumped out.He heard a grunt and a grenade went flying over the truck and was about to land on him.

A bullet flew from his gun once again and the superheated lead crashed into the grenade's casing,causing the grenade to explode in mid air and scatter shrapnel everywhere;mostly in the direction of the truck.I cry of anguish told him that some of the shrapnel had hit its marks and he went in low against the truck,he slid around it with Sasha held at the ready and circled around to the front of the truck;after a moment of silence only interrupted by the groans from the last living wiskey brother Alexander walked over to his side and unloaded the last of his bullets on him.

"HOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT I'M GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!"

he remarked,jumping into the truck that had recently been used to commit attempted kidnapping.A quick turn of the key was all that was needed for him to claim the truck for his own and scrounge around for a few bullets in the front of the truck.With a roar the truck started up and Alexander shut it back off.He locked the doors and went to sleep in the truck's front seats,trying to ignore why it was wet.

Rhythmic footsteps filled the silence that surrounded the alley. Rushing pass people who seemed to be occupied with their daily lives, the man was on a mission.

"I'm late, I'm late, I was suppose to meet Alex an hour ago, damn that stripper," Nicolai murmured as he rushed passed more people who looked at him and simply shook their head. "Damn," Nicolai shouted as he crashed into someone, "watch where you're going jackass," Nicolai shouted as he stood back up and started running again.

His guns holstered flush against his thigh and legs. His daggers hidden in their sheathes holstered flush against the back of his leg and Master silently sleeping within the confines of it's own holster flush against his back.

Nicolai smirked and continued running. Eventually, he came to the gates of New Chicago. He bent over and attempted to catch his breath. Though he was in good, if not excellent, shape, he still wasn't as long winded as he hoped and the run took a bit out of him but he managed to approach a gate keeper. The gate keeper recognized him as he was a friend and allowed him to leave out but told him to return as soon as he could because the gate would be closing.

"How long do I have?" Nicolai asked, "Don't know, just be careful," the gate keeper replied as Nicolai smirked and rushed out of the city.

"Where the hell is Alex?" He questioned himself as he looked around at the various tents. He had been looking for about ten minutes when he heard the explosion. Rushing towards it, he finally found the friend he had been looking for.

He walked around the truck and saw the dead bodies of the Wiskey Brothers, "poor saps barely stood a chance," Nicolai murmured as he saw the dissimated tent and another body.

"ALEX, ALEX WHAT THE HELL," He called out not noticing Alex was asleep within the truck. He walked around the truck again and looked within the confines of the destroyed tent to find no sign of Alex other than his belongings, then he heard snoring.

He crept up on the truck and peered in. "That Son of a Bitch," Nicolai said, "WAKE UP," He shouted in a loud voice that would surely cause Alex to jump up firing, so he ducked his head and smirked.