The loud chopping noise of the helicopter droned out any thoughts Cross could have. He figured it wouldn’t be so bad, but it was. Oh, it definitely was.
This was shaping up to be the worst assignment he’d ever been sent on. He would be lucky if he didn’t go dead after this.
Oh wait, sorry that was a typo. It should say DEAF, not dead. No one’s dying in this book.
Cross decided to try to find something to distract himself from the noise. He took a glance around the helicopter, seeing his teammates all in various positions around the interior.
Nearest him was Vill Jalentine, a breaking-and-entering expert recruited from a counter-counter terrorist program. Her missions had been to commit acts of terrorism against suspected terrorists so they themselves couldn’t commit acts of terrorism. She also had quite a bit of experience in bomb defusing, you know, just in case someone committed a counter-counter-counter terrorist attack in her vicinity.
Seated next to Jalentine was Joe Frost, the team’s professional magician. His job was to entertain the other members on long missions into the suburbs and sometimes distract the enemy with his magic tricks. He’d made his past disappear, so not much else was known about him.
Well, other than the fact that he liked dogs. A lot.
Himself, Cross Greenfield, was the team’s professional boulder puncher. He was very strong and very good at shooting guns. He used to be a pilot fighter before he got fired for being too violent and tearing another pilot’s arms off. But soon after that, he was hired by the Possum Town police department as the newest member of SUNS. Sadly, he was no longer allowed to punch people when he wanted but there were other perks to his new job, like freshly delivered medicine from the department’s biggest funder, Phizer Corp.
Next to Cross was Barry Burton, the team’s professional alcoholic and wife beater. He had a terrible home life and enjoyed taking his intoxicated rage out on criminals. He used to be part of the SUNS Charlie squad, but was moved up to Alpha squad when he proved himself to be good enough to join them.
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In the pilot’s chair sat Rad Ickers. He was a brave and skilled computer technician and biohazardous waste manager, which was slang for ‘no one likes him so let’s get him to handle these dangerous chemicals’. Though Rad wasn’t trained in how to fly a helicopter, he quickly learned the basics after their leader gave him a basic tutorial with a gun to his head.
And finally, their brave and valiant leader, Anthony Fauci, a world famous virologist/war hero. He served in the AIDS War, which consisted of a series of battles in Afghanistan to stop the homophobic Balitan from stopping the gay Afghanis from having sex with each other. Under his command, brave and heroic generals threw countless soldiers at the Balitan to preserve the rights of gay men everywhere. Fauci served on the frontlines killing homophobes left and right while at the same time researching a cure for aids that wouldn’t just be poison. He also ordered the risk/benefit ratio calculations of soldier lives to gay lives, which found that 9.3 soldiers would need to die for every 0.4 gay men saved. An acceptable sacrifice, he decided.
Cross knew with such great teammates, nothing short of a massive betrayal and a zombie apocalypse could stop them from completing their mission.
He sat in the chopper for another few minutes until they finally reached their destination. The long-abandoned Biden mansion was only a hundred meters away from where they hovered, but even from that distance, Cross could see the dilapidated appearance of the building.
The thick canopy of trees made it impossible for Rad to land, so the team had to rappel down.
Fauci gazed about, stone-faced. “All right team, fan out and search for any sign as to what happened to Bravo team, and er… Charlie team too, I guess.” The team nodded and began to fan out in all different directions.
Cross walked into the woods. As he went, he started to feel uneasy, like there was something watching him from the trees. He shook it off and kept moving forward. This was no time to be observant.
Suddenly, he heard a shout far to his right. Cross ran hard and fast until he saw the wreckage of Bravo team’s helicopter.
He saw several corpses strung about, almost as if they had been torn apart by a pack of rabid animals.
Joe was screaming over some of the corpses. “T-they’re all dead!” he cried out. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a horrible thing attacked Joe, biting his neck out.
It seemed to be some kind of a rotting dog surrounded by a swarm of sandflies.
Cross aimed his gun at the abomination and put two rounds in its head, killing it, but it was far too late to save Joe.
Cross heard several similar screams and shouts ring out throughout the trees, and it was in that moment Cross knew. It was going to be a long night.