They say the victor writes the history books.Hah! Victor.That word used to mean so much
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CHAPTER 1 Chris POV I drove the H2 stretch Hummer across the Urban Wasteland that had been Houston. Now that the only speck of humanity in the city is being pursued by a swarm of the infected, it seems worse than ever before. Daryl was on hatch gunner duty, trying to repel the ever-so-persistent undead. The two U.S. Marines we had met up with in Atlanta provided cover fire, scattering the swarm that blocked our path. Serena, our compatriot, tried to reach anybody human on the radio, and Brendon tried to direct me to Las Vegas. Jackie, Sage, Tyler, and Jordan were attempting to get as much sleep as they could to relieve us in the morning. Two days ago, we heard rumors of some sort of survivor resistance forming at the Pentagon. Most rumors like that turned out to be false, but our crew would take any bit of hope it can get that would help us to see our folks, who mostly evacuated to England during the first stages of the scourge. Before that though, we needed to pick up a few survivors we had made radio contact with a few nights before. Twelve people barricaded in Caesars Palace. There aren’t many Homo Sapiens left in America, so we need to gather all we can. The first brilliant cracks of dawn appeared on the horizon. Sun. Sun is good, it slows down the hordes, which will allow us to refill on gas. Once we make sure the infected were far off in the distance, we pulled over at a gas station, Brandon, Daryl, and I got out. Brandon and I had shotguns; Daryl had his loyal baseball bat. I shoved open the door to turn on the pump, expecting anything, but not the poor man hiding behind the counter. Startled, Brandon cut him down. “Brandon!” I reprimand, “Think before you shoot!” “Thinking will get us all killed,” Daryl returned. “Damn Asian, this is why I don’t want you as our group leader. I keep telling you, we should use guerrilla tactics.” “Military strategies are the only way to survive,” I countered. “A wolf needs its pack, and we need to join a larger force.” “Guys, stop! We’ve gotta’ hurry, or none of us will left to argue,” Brandon shouted. “Fine, fine,” Daryl said, shooting me a despicable look. We were back on the road, and headed towards Las Vegas when the others woke, and relieved us of our positions. I fidgeted with the prototype of the Electrical Charge Emitter (ECE), which should cut off the disease from the brain of anyone infected. I invented the device in an attempt to develop an effective weapon against the swarm. If functional, it may just be humanity’s last defense. The ECE cannot be used currently because the frequency is not perfected. For all I know, it might just fry every brain in the world. Even if it just fries a few human brains, that is collateral damage. And any collateral damage is not good when attempting to ensure the survival of an endangered species. As I tinker with my creations, I remember how bad I thought my life has been. These last few years have been a nightmare, but at least I have a family again, we look out for each other, and that’s how it should be. I can’t help but remember all those lost to us. Those we were separated from at the Great Scourge at Bak. I never found out what there fate was. With any luck, they were evacuated with the others, and those who were lost since then, most of the survivors who were with us were turned, some left, several committed suicide once we reached mainland again. As those thoughts raced through my head, I slowly drifted off to sleep, until everything faded to black. When I woke, around 5:00 PM, the sun faded over the distant horizon. We were there. Sin City. Caesar’s Palace, here we come. |