Ema screamed as she reached the helicopter, her heart pounding in her chest. "We've made it to the helicopter!!" she shouted, her voice filled with a mix of relief and urgency.
"Go, go, go! They're right behind us!" Frank bellowed, ushering Ema forward. His eyes were wide with fear as he glanced over his shoulder.
James ran, glancing back to see the horde the helicopter had attracted. His heart sank as he saw a V28 variant leap from the roof access door, grabbing Ema just as she was about to board the helicopter. With no time to think, he rammed into the variant at mid-waist, tackling it over the edge of the roof and taking several walkers with them.
"Noooooooo!" Ema screamed, reaching out helplessly.
"We have to go!" Frank shouted, grabbing Ema and pushing her onto the helicopter. The rotors whirred to life, and the helicopter lifted off just as a V33 burst through the door, charging too late to reach them.
As James plummeted, thoughts raced through his mind. "So this is the end, huh? Thought my death would've been spectacular. What a waste, I could've said something heroic. But it's truly never like the movies in real life." He hit the ground and blacked out.
Seconds later, James awoke, confused as to how he was still alive. He looked around and saw a swarm of walkers surrounding him. He grabbed his pistol and began firing, taking out as many as he could. An opening appeared in the horde, but then BAMMM—a V33 slammed a fist into him, sending him flying across the road and through a wall.
He got up, coughing up blood, and looked at his shattered gun. With a sigh, he picked up his crowbar. "Back to where we began, huh, old friend," he said, a quick flash of memory taking him back to when it all started. The crowbar had been with him from the beginning, the only companion he truly trusted.
"One last time, my friend, one last time," James said to the crowbar. He ran at the V33, the pain and adrenaline fogging his brain. He remembered only fragments: hit, hit, hit, bite, hit, bite, bite, hit, hit, hit. In a moment of clarity, he realized it was just him and the V33 left; the rest of the horde was long dead or dying again.
"I WILL NOT DIE HERE NOR WILL I DIE TO A FUCKING THING LIKE YOU!" he roared, his eyes filled with rage. He charged the V33 one last time. Dodging a swing from the monster, he slammed his loyal crowbar into its head, and with a CRACK, the monster's skull finally gave way.
Surrounded by the truly dead, James's vision blacked out again. When he came to, he found himself back on the roof. He walked over to the wall and slid down it, groaning the whole way, a smile spreading across his face as he saw the first rays of the morning sun. Crowbar in his lap, he laughed and thought, "What a beautiful sight." As the early morning warmth of the sun finally touched his face like a warm hug, James closed his eyes.
With a surge of pain, James was torn from his peaceful end to see a face he dreaded—the man. James tried to hit him, but he was too slow, unable to move.
"Easy there, James," the man said, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Did you think I’d let a man like you die so peacefully? Well, perhaps I would if it were anyone else, but not you, James. You're still too valuable."
James tried to speak, but no words came out. The man's expression was one of twisted triumph, as if he had just won the lottery. In the last moment before losing consciousness, James saw another man in army gear injecting him with a needle.
"I’m going to make great use of you, boy. Your hell has just started," the man whispered to James.
"Pick him up, we're moving. We're running out of time. And also, bring the damn crowbar," the man commanded, tracing a wound on his cheek. "It's time for some payback."
"James, he's... he's... he's dead," Ema cried, her voice breaking.
"There's no time for tears," Frank stated coldly.
"How the hell can you say that? He's the only reason you're still alive, you heartless bastard!" Ema screamed, her grief turning to rage.
"And you're the reason he's dead, so get over yourself. We don't have time," Frank retorted sharply.
Ema looked at Frank in disbelief, unable to comprehend his coldness, but deep down she knew he was right. If only she had been faster.
The rest of the helicopter ride was silent. Both were exhausted, but neither could sleep. They stared out the windows, watching the ruined city stretch on for miles, a desolate expanse of death and decay. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they saw it—the wall that contained the dead city. They landed a few miles from the wall, and the doors opened to soldiers with guns pointed at them.
"Which one of you is James?" a woman in a lab coat asked.
"He... he... he's..." Ema tried to speak.
"He's dead. The fool tackled a V28 off the roof," Frank said bluntly.
"Well, shit," the woman said. "Take these two to the quarantine zone for their mandatory isolation," she instructed the soldiers.
"What's going to happen to us?" Frank asked. "After all, he’s the only reason you came to get us."
"Well, you're here now. Once you pass your mandatory medical checks and isolation time, you'll be sent to one of the many refugee camps we've set up. From there, you can leave and go wherever you want to rebuild your life. If you have nothing left, you can stay in the camp," the woman explained before turning and leaving.
Wham! James was jolted awake by a sharp blow from the back of a rifle. He blinked, disoriented, taking in the room's stark white walls and harsh fluorescent lights that left no room for shadows.
"It's time to wake up, James," the man said.
"John... I thought I killed you," James muttered.
"I'm insulted you think you could kill me," John replied with a smirk.
"Why am I not dead?" James asked, his voice laced with confusion and frustration.
"That's a good question its because you have information I want," John said.
"You know I won't give it to you," James retorted.
"And you know I'll get it eventually," John countered.
"But NOT FROM ME," James shouted.
John sighed. "You know, don't make promises you’ll break. I'll get what I want one way or another." He stood up and walked out the door, a loud locking sound echoing in the room.
James lost track of time. Minutes, hours, or days could have passed as the blinding lights continued to bear down on him. Eventually, the door opened, and John entered with four guards.
"Let's go, we have things to do," John said.
"Burn in hell, John," James spat.
"Drag him out," John ordered.
James was hauled into a room that resembled a conference room, complete with a TV and windows showing the outside. It was clean—well, as clean as a black site could be. It dawned on him that he was no longer in the dead city.
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"Where are we?" James asked.
"Somewhere in Maine, not that it's important. Look at this," John said, throwing a folder and a phone at James.
James opened the folder. It contained his mission details. "How the hell did you get this? It was classified to Echo Charlie," he shouted.
"Look at the phone first," John instructed.
James picked up the phone and saw pictures and videos of Atlantic City—the dead city—being obliterated by massive bombs from fighter jets and bombers.
"They enacted Plan Kronos Phase Omega, though they used conventional weapons over nuclear because it was isolated to one city," John explained. "So, the mission is over. Tell me what I want to know."
"Fuck you," James spat in John's face. "Even if the city is gone, I'm not telling you shit. I'm not a fucking traitor to my nation or humanity."
"Fine, we'll do this the hard way," John said, signaling to the guards.
They rushed in and injected James with something. But James wouldn't go down without a fight. He managed to land a few hits before being overwhelmed and dragged back to his cell.
James woke up strapped to an operating table in a dimly lit room. Surgical instruments lay scattered around, bloodstains marred the walls and floor, and cabinets filled with test tubes and various chemicals and medicines lined the walls. He tried to move his arms but felt a sharp pain in his left side. Turning his head, he saw an IV drip inserted into his arm.
"Where am I?" James asked in a hoarse voice.
John's voice crackled over the intercom. "That doesn’t matter, James. You should be more concerned with what is about to happen. Good luck," he added as an afterthought.
A doctor entered the room and began preparing a chemical concoction in a test tube.
"You don’t have to do this," James said, trying to appeal to the man's humanity.
The doctor remained silent, continuing his work. When he finished, he filled a syringe with the mixture. The liquid was clear, but James recognized some of the components and did not want anything of that nature in his body. The doctor placed the syringe in a freezer before finally speaking.
"This is something I made myself. Luckily for you, it needs to be cold, so you have one last chance to give us the info we want," the doctor said.
"Fuck you," James spat.
The doctor sighed, pulled out the syringe, and walked over to James's IV drip, injecting the liquid into the tube. James felt the icy cold fluid flow into his veins, sending chills through his body. It spread through his arm and into his heart, causing his vision to go fuzzy and triggering vivid hallucinations of his old missions. It was as if he was reliving them all over again in his mind.
"Tell us, what do you see, James?" John asked over the intercom.
"We were flying over the desert—me, Jack, Zero, and Ryan. We were on our way to... No, NO, NO, FUCK YOU!" James screamed.
"Wrong mission. Zap him," John ordered.
Zaaaaazaaaaa! James was electrocuted, sending him back into the horrific memory of a mission that had gone terribly wrong. They were there to eliminate the head terrorist of Zicons, the group responsible for bombing a US base in Germany. It was supposed to be an easy in-and-out mission, but it turned into a nightmare with many casualties. He was thrown out of his dream into another flashback.
"What do you see now, James?" John asked.
"… … … …" James mumbled.
"You have to speak, James," John demanded.
"I was with… Ryan, Jack, and… Zero," James began but was interrupted.
"I thought Zero died in Baghdad," John said, a hint of worry in his voice.
"NO, NO, NO, FUCK YOU!" James shouted before being zapped again.
This time, he awoke quickly, unable to relive anything before being jolted back to reality.
"It doesn’t matter even if he's not dead. Tell us what you see," John insisted.
"We were in a C-130 over the outbreak zone. We were tasked with ensuring the lab was destroyed—no evidence could remain. None at all. We had orders to kill any staff left alive if we found any," James recounted.
"But that wasn’t your only mission, was it, James?" John pressed.
"No, I was tasked with retrieving… Fuck you," James said before being zapped unconscious.
At a refugee camp, Ema and Frank stepped off a truck to find the same lady doctor waiting for them.
"Good for both of you on not being infected. Now that your checks are over, you need to answer some questions," the doctor said.
"First, who the hell are you?" Frank demanded.
"My name is Dr. Malery," she replied. "And you might have information I need."
They followed the doctor into a tent and sat at a table.
"So, tell me, how did you meet James?" Malery asked.
"Well, we had a group of eight of us. We were staying in this building, and we had blocked off the stairs going up and down. All of a sudden, we heard gunfire coming from outside and saw these two men in gear running down the street. We thought they were military, so we threw down a makeshift rope ladder we made for them to climb," Ema started.
"You said two, not just James. Who was the other one?" Malery inquired.
"I think he said his name was Zero or something," Ema began but was cut off.
"The dude's name was Zero, but he didn’t stick around long. As soon as they were up, the two men left the room, and we could hear shouting. Something about a mission and that someone messed up. Then we heard James tell the man, 'You got fucking bit,' or something—I can’t remember too well. But all we heard was a gunshot, and then James entered the room alone," Frank explained.
"Did he tell you why he was there or what happened to the rest of his men?" Malery asked.
"No, all he said was a helicopter would be there to pick him up in 12 hours and that we could come if we wanted to," Ema said.
"Okay, that's enough. If he didn’t tell you anything or give you anything to carry, I don’t need to know anymore," Malery said.
"No, he never gave us anything," Frank confirmed.
"Okay, you can go. Try to find a new life, and good luck," Malery said and left the tent.
Outside, Malery pulled out her phone and called an unknown number.
"James died with the info on him. It never got out of the city," Malery said.
"No, James didn’t die on the roof," the unknown voice replied.
"What? How? He fell off an eight-story building into a horde," Malery said, incredulous.
"As I've told you before, he's one tough son of a bitch, which why he leads almost every mission. We have satellite images of an unknown man taking him off the roof. Malery, I WANT HIM BACK, do you understand? ALIVE. Make it happen," the voice commanded before hanging up.
"FUCK," Malery cursed. "How the hell am I supposed to find him? The city was leveled, and all you have are these shitty images that you can barely even make out."
"Bring me Hound," she said to a guard.
The guard nodded and swiftly left to fetch Hound. Malery paced back and forth, her mind racing. She knew finding James in the wreckage of the city would be a near-impossible task, but she also knew she had no choice.
A few minutes later, Hound, a rugged man with an uncanny ability to track anyone, entered the tent. "You called for me, Doc?" he asked.
"Yes, Hound. We have a high-priority target to find. James is alive, and we need to bring him back. Here are the satellite images we have," Malery said, handing him the photos.
Hound studied the images, his expression serious. "It won't be easy, but I'll find him," he said confidently.
"You better," Malery said. "Because if we don't, it's not just our jobs on the line—it's much more than that.” Hound nodded and left the tent.
"James, you need to wake up," John’s voice crackled through the intercom, muffled but urgent.
James slowly regained consciousness, still chained to the table, but he could feel the effects of the drug had worn off. "Fuck you, John," he muttered.
"One last time, James. Tell us where you hid the info," John demanded.
"Up your rear end," James retorted.
John sighed. "This next dose will be a lot worse, James. Just give us the info," he warned.
"I already told you where I stashed the drive," James lied.
"Inject him," John ordered the doctor.
The doctor moved from his stool and injected James again. The icy cold mixture flowed through his veins, and the flashbacks started. Suddenly, he was in a firefight in the jungle.
"What do you see, James?" John asked.
"Enemy... we're surrounded by insurgents. Chris is bleeding out," James started but was cut off by a zap.
"Where are you now, James?" John pressed.
"We just jumped off the plane. Our target is the roof of the lab," James said.
"Good, but I want to know what happened when you got into the lab," John insisted.
"We had our orders. We had no choice; they had to die. It wasn’t my fault," James said.
"You're right, you did your job. But tell me what happened," John said with indifference, thinking to himself, "We all have a job to do."
"We breached the lab from the roof. There was a small group of survivors. One of them was Dr. Brion. He thought we were there for him. The look on his face when we opened fire... But he was a monster. I’ll sleep better knowing he’s dead," James said.
"So you're the one that killed him. What a shame, he was useful. Don’t worry though, when I get what I want, his death won’t be in vain," John said. "What happened next?"
"We went to the server room. We had to clear our way through the lab; it was infested with walkers. When we got there, I transferred what I needed to a flash drive before inserting a virus to wipe everything. I handed the drive—FUCK YOU, I'M NOT SAYING SHIT," James shouted.
James was shocked again and fell unconscious, reliving the moment. He landed with a THUD, and behind him, three more did the same. They removed their parachutes and grouped up by the roof door. They had done this type of infiltration many times; it was second nature. Not a single word was said—they all knew where they needed to be. Ryan primed the door and stepped back behind Jack. BOOM! The door was blown inward. James took the lead with Zero right behind him; the rest followed. The hallway was empty. They searched until they found the group of survivors.
"Wake up, James. You can’t sleep yet," John said as James was thrust awake. "What happened after you got the drive?"
"We went to the testing lab. There were so many of them on the way; the tubes were destroyed. But the ones that weren’t... Well, let’s just say we’re lucky that variant of the virus didn’t get out," James said.
"And what happened next?" John asked.
"We finished the last part of our mission, got the sample from V83, and then we turned it to sludge with the purge protocol. Set our explosives and got the hell out of there before it went boom," James said.
"And where did you put the drive and sample?" John asked.
"I... I gave it to... NO, NO, NO, NO!" James screamed.
John sighed. "Well, at least I know it's out there. It's only a matter of time until I find it, James," John said. "Take him back to his room."
The guards moved quickly, unstrapping James and dragging him back to his cell.