(Quintiles 29, 59 / 8:35PM)

(Fred, Gary, and Diego)

(Military Soldier #1) Just keep firing!

(Military Soldier #2) Where are the agents when you need them!? What about that platoon that was on the south side of the city?

(Military Soldier #1) They’re too busy dealing with some survivors! It’s just us!

A squad of men rained a monsoon of bullets onto the incoming horde of pouncers, the hot metal flying at high speeds as it made contact with the white pigment skin of the undead.

The recoil shook their arms, vibrating their entire body as their rifles reverberated through the chamber and cartridges inside of the bundle of metal. Their legs were on the verge of buckling, the soldiers’ eyes widened as they saw the number of pouncers right in front of them.

The squad leader, a man in his mid-30s, held the line with four other men, spraying the horde with bullets as much as they could, but…

(Military Soldier #3) Sergeant! We should retreat!

(Sergeant) Just keep shooting! We can’t let them go any further!

A group of pouncers breached their way onto a small opening of the squad’s defense, sprinting their way towards the soldiers that were the nearest to them. Noticing the zompire’s strategic push, the Sergeant pointed his rifle toward the undead, calling out the other men of his group.

(Sergeant) Get those zompires now before they surround us!

In the middle of the men was the Sergeant, with two men to his right and two men to his left. The opening that the zompires took was in between the two soldiers that were on the leader’s right, with the two soldiers pointing their guns at the small group of zompires.

Reloading their weapons, the two soldiers on the right of the Sergeant felt the overbearing pressure of death surrounding them, their breathing heavy.

(Military Soldier #2) Careful! They’re coming towards you!

(Military Soldier #3) Oh shit! I think I’m surrounded!

The soldier farthest to the right, who was wielding a heavy machine gun, flinched as he heard the sounds of more pouncers right behind him.

Two zompire groups surrounded him.

(Pouncer #1) Save Us!

Turning his back, his face started to drip with cold sweat, causing the heavy soldier to panic and start shooting at the zompires that breached to his right.

Feeling the burden of the machine gun’s recoil spreading across his entire body, the man focused his entire panicked being towards the zompires in front of him. Unable to turn his head towards the other group of zompires that breached the defense, the heavy soldier blindly fired from his hip, his breathing hitching as his heart felt like it was about to explode.

(Military Soldier #3) You’re not taking me!

The pouncers that were being pelted by the heavy bullets started to falter under the hot metal, the bullets reaching lodging intensely towards their hearts. Seeing that his shooting was at least thinning out the zompires that were charging at him, his legs remained still under the heavy pressure, his knees buckled to the ground.

(Pouncer #2) Save Us!

(Military Soldier #3’s thoughts) Why can’t I move!?

The zompire group that he ignored earlier, the one that breached the defense earlier, managed to barrel their way toward the back of the heavy soldier, baring their fangs as the soldier was merely several feet in front of him.

The soldier’s breathing turned desperate, his chest on the verge of popping out as his eyes glanced at the sight of imminent death upon him.

One of the soldiers to the right of the Sergeant, the one that was in between the Sergeant and the heavy soldier, turned his head towards the heavy soldier.

(Military Soldier #2) Ramirez!

The soldier with the heavily pumped shotgun ran towards the heavyweight, his shotgun pointing towards the zompires surrounding his friend. Shooting the shotgun in rapid pumps, the Sergeant noticed his soldier’s attempt to save his comrade.

His voice raspy, his throat quelling with anger, his vocals trembling from the sight that beheld upon him.

(Sergeant) Timber!

Shooting the zompires that were supposed to be for the soldier named Timber, the Sergeant, wielding his casual AR-17, loading his entire chamber at the zompires. His grip on the rifle loosened as the Sergeant swayed his head one time as he tightened the grip on his gun evermore, the metal starting to creak under the immense strength.

Flinging the trigger of his gun again, the zompires faltered under the cataclysm of bullets, their ashes being swept into the stone debris. Wiping his forehead from the amount of hot sweat bestowed upon him, the Sergeant shouted—

But right before he could yell, a zompire got on top of Timber.

(Sergeant) TIMBER!!

The soldier, Timber, fell in slow motion, similar to how a tree would fall when it’s cut.

Showcasing its fangs, the zompire slowly crept its face towards the neck of Timber, tar dripping from its rotten and decaying teeth. Having his gun to the right of him, Timber had no means to defend himself from the zompire, his eyes widening as his life started to flash before his eyes.

(Private Timber’s thoughts) My memories…

Ah memories.

Memories make life feel meaningful.

And in a meaningful life, one must have pleasant memories.

But sometimes.

(Private Timber’s thoughts) I’ve lived a shitty life…

As the zompire’s fangs touched the tips of Timber’s neck, the only thing that Timber felt at that moment was—

Happiness? Joy?

Ecstasy?

The crevices of the soldier’s lips reached to the point where his smile was nothing but devilish, creating a steep U shape. Having his arms spread out before him, followed by his legs at ease within himself, he didn’t have any flight or fight response to him, as only his calm breathing was heard in his ears.

(Private Ramirez) NO!!

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His knees unbuckling themselves, Ramirez jumped to the left of him, avoiding both of the zompire groups. With the push of both his feet, he kicked the cement ground as the debris around him fluttered around him, splattering small bits of hard rock and wood on the zompires feet.

Wielding his gun bridal style, Ramirez sprinted towards the couple of zompires that surrounded Timber…

(Private Timber’s thoughts) I feel content.

Rotten fangs that were coated with tar struck themselves into Timber’s neck.

(Sergeant) Damn it…!

Yelling a mighty roar, Ramirez placed his right hand onto the grip of the gun, followed by having his left hand on the center.

He started to carry the gun like a baseball bat, his face shaded in a deep crimson red.

(Private Ramirez) I’M TAKING YOU ALL DOWN!!

Reaching the zompires, he swung his gun onto the back of a zompire’s head, although it did not falter one bit.

The horde of zompires that he failed to kill started charging towards him, causing Ramirez’s eyes to turn to a deep and fiery bloodshot red.

His body was free, his joints contracting from the deep anger that lit a spark in his heart, he didn’t care to shoot the gun with him. Swinging left and right, he followed the motion of the gun as his fingertips tore into the hull of the grip and chamber.

But sometimes not even adrenaline can save the strongest.

(Sergeant’s thoughts) Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!

Ramirez’s swinging wasn’t enough to fully get rid of the zompires, as the pack started to jump onto him, showcasing the rigid and knife-life edges of their teeth.

But Ramirez didn’t falter, as his legs continued to hold onto him despite the weight of tenfold zompires holding him down. As the rest of the soldiers completely ignored the other zompires that were trying to get them, the three soldiers focused their attention on their two soldiers being gutted out alive.

Ramirez’s entire body felt the sharp fangs penetrate his body, their teeth clawing their way into the many organs that Ramirez had. His legs only produced more strength, Ramirez tightened his chest and stomach, his arms moving in a frenzy as he tried to punch as many zompire’s skulls as he could.

(Private Ramirez) GIVE ME ALL YOU GOT!!

Drops of drool released from the corners of his mouth. Ramirez continued to push his fists onto the many heads of zompires that he saw, his hands being covered in blood and tar. Despite being eaten alive, his body was in motion, even when his back, chest, and stomach were starting to show his skin-peeled muscles and arteries.

Even his internal organs started to creep out of him, as some zompires started to get some fresh pink matter into their mouths, from both his lower stomach and his chest.

(Sergeant’s thoughts) Why is this happening…

(Military Soldier #4) Oh shit! We’re being surrounded!

As Timber and Ramirez were being eaten alive, one filled with happiness and another filled with anger, the three other soldiers turned their heads all around every angle. Seeing that many zompires were all around them, charging at them at full speed, the soldiers pointed their guns at the horde, their fingers unable to pull their triggers.

(Military Soldier #3) This is the end…

(Military Soldier #4) N-No…

They couldn’t have the courage to pull the trigger, their faces filled with fear as they couldn’t even dare to look the enemy in the eyes.

(Sergeant’s thoughts) This was supposed to be my last day before retirement…

The sounds of an EMP burst can be heard.

An invisible wave of electrical current, not meant to be seen by the human eye, swept through the entire front holdout entrance gate.

Their bodies felt light, as the weight of the situation just fell off their backs. Like an anvil missing their head, or dodging a massive bullet, the soldiers noticed the many zompires that were supposed to charge head first into them were not moving.

(Sergeant’s thoughts) What the…

The zompires couldn’t budge themselves out of their frozen stance, their feet lodged onto the cement floor.

Still having their guns pointed at the unmoving zompires, the three soldiers wielded their guns down, their barrels pointing towards the floor. Looking around them from left to right, their feet continued to remain still as their foreheads continued to be coated with chilled sweat.

(Sergeant) Kim. Panchal. Stay alert.

(???) I think they’re here!

The sounds of footsteps and rustling along the debris caused the three soldiers’ ears to perk up. Steadying their guns, the soldiers took deep breaths as their palms remained sticky and sweaty, the metal being stained under the constant pressure of the grip.

The footsteps drew nearer, and the sergeant put his finger on the trigger, awaiting anything as he focused himself on the dense smoke cloud. Caressing their triggers…

(???) Don’t shoot! We’re friendly!

Three young men came out of the smoke, having their hands up high in the air as they slowly walked towards the three soldiers.

One had silver hair, another was short and chubby, and the last one had circular glasses.

(Fred) We’re friendly okay. We’ll help you out.

The three soldiers lowered their guns, letting out sighs of relief.

______________________________________________________________________________

(Sergeant) How did you know how to make that soldier? Hell, you don’t look like a soldier.

(Fred) We’re more or less reserves rather than soldiers, but we’re here to help in any way we can.

The six men huddled together in front of the gate of the museum, the gateway to the entire complex.

Around them, much debris consisting of stone and rock littered the entire area, followed by the many ash particles that surrounded them on the ground and air. With the many little fires that lit around them, they also took note of the sky turning into a more hellish orange.

The smell was pungent, as body odor and ethanol roamed the night air, followed by the screams and shouts coming from inside the complex. Not bothering to look in the direction of the screams, the six men continued to sit down on the debris-ridden floor.

The sergeant looked towards Fred, his eyes pushed down as he put his hands down to his thighs, his hands motionless.

(Sergeant) Are you an inventor of any kind, soldier? I’ve seen this in movies and whatnot, so are you a nerd or geek?

(Fred) I’m more or less an inventor sir. So are these two men near me? The one with glasses doesn’t invent and mostly works on engines of any kind.

(Sergeant) Still, you guys could be useful. What object or weapon disabled those zompires?

Fred placed his backpack in front of him, the weight upon his back loosening as he looked through the inside. His knuckles noticing a familiar object, Fred pulled it out with his sweaty hand, showcasing the unfamiliar object in front of him.

(Fred) Here it is.

The object itself was a glass bottle, with the ends of it being coated with a metallic top on each side. Inside of it, was an all-cubed mirror inside of the bottle, next to a homemade EMP handheld device, with copper wire connected to the top and the bottom edges of the sides. Two pitched black cubes sandwiched the all-cubed mirror, the black cubes inflating as it started to sweat out of the moisture in the bottle.

Everyone saw the object at hand, looking at each other with neutral faces. The sergeant, putting his hand underneath his chin as he rubbed the edges with his fingers, focused his attention on the object out of everyone.

(Sergeant) Is it an EMP blaster of some sort?

(Fred) Sort of. I trap the sun’s rays or any light energy with the two black cubes that are connected to the rods of the little device. By pushing the top button, the homemade EMP blaster will suck in all the energy from the black cubes, and as it reaches everywhere, the all-cubed mirror reflects the waves tenfold.

The two soldiers tilted their heads to the left as Fred held up the glass bottle in front of him, with most of them scratching their heads with their dirty fingernails. The sergeant, the only one who nodded at the explanation, let go of his hand that was on his chin, cupping his hands as he looked into the little homemade device.

(Sergeant) So how does it hold the zompires?

(Fred) Two years ago … I caught a sample of zompire tar and found out that it has an incredible amount of iron and metal inside, so with a simple blast of an electromagnetic pulse, well…

Fred looked down onto the cement floor, focusing on the debris-ridden ground with his eyes warmly seeing the little fire in the middle of them. His knees tucking themselves onto his chest and stomach, he wrapped them with his arms, holding them tightly.

The three soldiers stood up from where they were sitting, all of their hands occupying the guns in their hands as they looked towards the direction of the screams and shouts. Their hands gently shaking the guns they wielded, the sergeant looked towards the three young men still sitting on the ground, extending his hand out towards Fred.

(Sergeant) Come on soldier, we’re not done yet. If you wanna prove your brains over your brawn, then show us how we can take back this complex.

Seeing the hand being extended down towards him, Fred widened his eyes. His hands trembling as he continued to wrap them around his knees, he gulped loudly with his raspy throat, a bead of sweat rolling down from his cheek.

Fred then reached to grab the sergeant’s hand, feeling the rough and coarse palms of the Sergeant’s hands, contrasting his smooth and youthful hands.

Standing up slowly, Fred took a big breath in as he looked in the direction of the screams and shouting from the museum and other parts of the complex, the air thickening with smoke the more the fighting continued.

(Fred) Come on guys, we’re going.

Diego and Gary got up, their feet trembling from the weight of everything as they looked into Fred’s sharpened eyes. With everyone turning in the direction of the fight, Fred glanced at the sergeant, his eyes softening at him.

(Fred) Is there anything wrong, sir?

The sergeant had his gaze upon the two dead soldiers on the right side of the front entrance to the museum, their corpses half-eaten as blood poured out of their decaying stomachs and chests. His entire focus was on those bodies, the sergeant's hearing started to thin into the air, his body remaining still as he seemed to be almost frozen-like.

Everything that he focused on was those bodies, lying on the cold cement ground as he began to slow his breathing.

(Sergeant’s thoughts) Even if I do survive, will the rest of my soldiers will?

(Fred) Sir?

His senses returned to normal, and his body flinched upwards as he looked toward the person that was behind him. Taking a hard step back, he noticed that the silver haired man, Fred, shut his mouth as he largened his eyes from the state that the sergeant was in.

Putting his hand onto the back of his head, Fred started scratching his dandrum, with little flakes dropping onto the cement.

(Fred) Uh oh, forgive me for saying that sir…

The sergeant wiped his head once as he looked towards the front entrance of the complex. Clenching his hands as he wielded the rifle with his right hand holding the grip, he turned his attention towards the others, mostly at the silver haired young man.

(Sergeant) I’m fine, soldier. Anyway, let’s just take back this complex.

Leading the group of five, the sergeant walked along the many shards of stone and wood, kicking away a couple of rocks of stone that were in the way. Reaching towards the door to the entrance of the building, the sergeant inhaled in and exhaled out, his chest expanding as he inhaled.

Putting his right foot on the door, he turned to look at the men behind him, all holding up their guns, with some holding a couple of gadgets from their backpacks.

(Sergeant) We’re going in!

The sergeant pushed his right foot outwards, leaving the door to the building to sway open violently as the rest of the soldiers charged forward.

(Sergeant’s thoughts) I promise I’ll avenge you two, no matter who it is…