When John opened his eyes the next morning, he immediately hissed in pain and grabbed his head with his hands. The cause of his current agony was a skull-splitting headache using his brain as a punching bag. Unfortunately for John, there was nothing he could do about it. Only when twenty minutes had passed did the headache finally diminish a little.
He looked around the room in search for Clara but failed to find her. So he figured she must still be with Alexis. Thinking of her, his already bad mood seemed to drop even further. How was such a young girl suppose to recover after suffering such a horrific ordeal?
John got to his feet, dressed and armed himself, and walked out of the empty classroom into the occupied hallway. As he walked down the hall, he could see people of all ages and ethnicities either standing around or slumped against a wall. Some talked to each other, while others just blankly looked down as they waited for their turn to be saved.
But John knew different. These people were at the bottom of the list. Occasionally, some would be picked out to give the others a glimmer of hope that they would be next. In reality however, the more 'important people' were the first to board the transports to safety. Even if they arrived later than the others. He wanted to change it, to give these people a chance at living, but it's not up to him. He has no power.
Leaving such depressing thoughts behind, John arrived at the cafeteria for breakfast. While eating his bland oatmeal, he overheard a conversation from some other soldiers sitting nearby.
"You hear about the weird stories from some of the scouts?"
"No? What kind of stories?"
"Apparently, a squad was walking by a manhole half a mile from the camp. Every single person in that squad swears up and down they heard some kind of growl coming from down in the sewers."
"Like, an animal or something?"
"Don't know. But they went down there to see just in case it was someone who needed help. Split up Scooby-Doo like. Searched all around, but they didn't find anything. So, they came back up to the surface. However, when they did a quick head-count, they noticed two were missing."
"They went back down right?"
"Yup. Eventually found them too. Well, the remnants anyway. All that was left was a whole lot of blood, some flesh, and their weapons on the ground. Strange thing was, those two boys never even fired a shot.
That's when they heard that noise again. Helleva lot closer. Booked it out of there and didn't look back. But when they came back up, another man was missing."
"Jesus that's creepy. Did they go back looking?"
"Hell no! Got out of there real quick and rushed back here. They told the higher ups about it, but weirdly enough didn't get laughed at."
John was spooked, but also interested. Whatever killed those men did it so quickly they never even made a sound. He got up off his seat and walked over to them, sitting down once he got there.
"Got anything else?" The two soldiers looked at him, but didn't mind his presence.
"Yeah. My friend told me this one after he passed by some theater to his post. He's one of the scouts who warn us of any incoming hordes, mark good paths to take, the works. So there he is, making his way down the sidewalk all cautious like. When he hears something coming from inside the theater. Says it sounds like a woman asking for help. So, he goes in.
But when he enters, he can hear the 'voice' more clearly. 'Help... me! Help... me!' the voice says over and over again.
Says to me that the voice wasn't human. Like it was someone trying to mimic human speech, but wasn't quite getting it.
Anyway, he entered a little deeper into the theater and sees the seats and the stage and such. On that stage, he sees someone's back towards him as they sit there. That, 'thing', hears him and says 'H...ell...o?'. At that point he's scared bad, so he gets out."
"Was he drunk or something? Drugs?"
"Hey, I didn't believe it either. Until he sent me the recording." Saying that, the story teller reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He pulls up a video and lets the two of them watch.
What they saw was a somewhat shaky video of inside the theater. The person recording goes deeper into the place and all the while, a voice keeps echoing out.
"Help... me! Help... me!" The closer the man recording got, the clearer and more distorted the voice became. It definitely wasn't human. Not completely.
When he opened a set of doors and stepped inside, they saw the stage the story teller was talking about. On top of that stage was a 'human' woman with their back towards the camera.
"H...ell...o?" The person on stage turned their head slightly, reacting to the door opening. Then, the video ends.
The other two were shocked. Whatever that thing was, it wasn't human. It tried to act and be the same as them, but there were pieces of the puzzle missing. For example, the skin was way too pale and seemed almost... stitched on. The hair was similar in that it looked fake. Like a bad wig. Then there were the clothes. It was just something about them that seemed too fake, whether it be the blood or the torn parts.
"Weird right? See, it's not just soldiers that are reporting strange things. It's the refugees too. I swear man, this whole place is becoming one giant horror story."
Deciding that was enough of a scare fest, John finished his meal quickly and walked away from the two soldiers. After he listened to those stories, he had a feeling a storm was brewing. A big one.
He shook off those thoughts and made his way to The Incinerator. Today was going to be a bad one. He just had a feeling.
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Outside the fences was a long line of people who desperately wanted to get inside the camp. Unfortunately they had to wait patiently in line, or risk being gunned down by the heavily armed soldiers surrounding them. All the refugees knew not to get any funny ideas. They had seen what happened to those who tried to force their way in, and to any person who turned.
Near the front of the line, two friends spoke to each other as they waited to get tested. They were both young, being around 18 years old.
"You know, I've been wondering. What do you think they're burning over there all day long?"
"No clue. Whatever it is though, it sure does smell fucking awful when the wind brings it our way."
With a slight chuckle, the other friend spoke up.
"Heh, think they're burning people? Take the infected ones over and put a bullet in their brain or something?"
"No way! Gotta be something else o-" Suddenly, he stops speaking and starts coughing a little. Which soon turns into him coughing up a lung.
"Shit you alright man? Easy there." His friend closes the distance and pats him on the back.
From just a ways away, a couple of soldiers notice this and nod to each other. They near the two friends.
"Excuse me you two. Mind coming with us?" When the soldier asked that, the surrounding refugees moved far away from the two friends as if they were the plague.
"What? Why?" The non-coughing one asked, confused.
"Let me be more clear. Come with us. Now." The soldiers aimed their guns on the two friends, their fingers on the trigger. Only now did the coughing finally cease.
The two friends followed the soldiers to a medical tent, where they went through various tests. It all went swimmingly for the non-cougher, and he was allowed into the camp. However, he noticed his friend wasn't there and didn't come out after a while.
"Hey, do you know where my friend is? He didn't come out. Is he okay?" He stopped and questioned one of the soldiers that escorted them to the tents with a worried expression on his face.
The soldier looked at him with a sad and sympathetic face.
"Tests showed he was infected. Don't worry. Your friend will be placed in... quarantine. Undergo treatment. Same as that... little girl." Near the end the soldier's voice cracked slightly, but the friend didn't pick it up. All he did was sigh in relief.
"Phew. Thanks man." The two separated as the non-cougher went deeper into the camp and the soldier started speaking to a crying mother. At least his friend was alright. Though, he still wondered. What were they burning? Oh well, not his problem.
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John stood with a stone cold expression and a silenced pistol in his hand. Just 30ft away from him was a giant pyre full of human corpses. On his face was a respiratory to block out the smell of burning flesh. The same as the other soldiers around him as they waited for the next 'patient' to arrive. He couldn't let it get to him. He couldn't. So he blocked it all off. Everything he had done so far today.
A few minutes later, he sees a stretcher roll towards him with another person strapped to it. Luckily, they had the good sense to knock them out first before sending them his way. When the stretcher arrived in front of him, John was able to get a good look at the person whose life he now had to end.
It was an 18 year old kid, just barely out of high-school. He placed the gun to the side of his head, hesitating for a second before pulling the trigger and ending his young life. He backed away from the corpse and sighed as the nearby soldiers unstrapped him and threw him into the ever-growing pyre.
"When will this end?" John posed a question to a certain someone as he gazed at the sky. That special creator hiding behind those pearly white gates. Maybe even He was afraid?
After another minute, the stretcher returned. Not only John, but everyone else groaned. Even though they had the misfortune of doing this before, that didn't mean it got easier.
Lying peacefully on that stretcher, with a teddy bear by her side, was a little girl no more than 6 years old.
"Oh Jesus fucking Christ!" John couldn't keep his composure any longer, and neither could the others. The sleeping beauty stopped just in front of him. She even had a smile on her face.
John aimed at her with a shaky hand, but didn't pull the trigger. His breaths became heavy as a new face started overlapping with her's. The same face of the boy he killed long ago. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. The owner of said hand was someone he knew.
"Want me to do it?" His voice cracked when he asked that. But he was willing to do it.
"How could I make you do that? Don't you have a son at home? Same age as her? Don't worry. I got it." As John said that, the other soldier backed off and waited patiently.
It needed to be different. If he did the same as last time, he wouldn't be able to pull the trigger. So John aimed his gun at the little girl's head and almost instantly shot her. Her blood and brains spilled out onto the white pillow her head laid against.
Ringing appeared in his head and his vision became blurry as he kneeled to the ground in shock. John couldn't hear it, or anything for that matter, but the other soldiers wept as they unstrapped the little girl and gently placed her body in the fire. The smile still on her face, and the teddy bear accompanying her to the afterlife.
Only until the next stretcher came did everyone calm down, though still a little shaken. John kept repeating the same phrase over and over and over and over again inside his mind. Even as he killed the next person.
"Orders, were orders."
After his long shift at The Incinerator, he was finally switched with another poor soul who would take his place. John absent-mindedly walked towards the classroom he had made his new home. He hadn't eaten anything besides breakfast, and even that eventually came up.
When he opened the door, he wasn't expecting anything. So once he saw Clara there, he was shocked and didn't speak immediately.
"Oh hey John. Just grabbing some of my things before heading to Alex-" She was interrupted by John suddenly running up and hugging her.
"John? What's wrong?" Clara knew something was wrong.
"I... I need you. Please." John whispered out between Clara's neck, stimulating her.
"Well, I guess Alexis can wait for a few more minutes."
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After their fiery, but quick intimate dance, they laid together naked as John described his experience today with tears running down his eyes. Throughout the whole time, Clara kept rubbing John's back. But she did falter a bit when learning about the little girl.
"I mean, what was I meant to do? Order were orders. Put them down and burn the bodies." John was spilling state secrets, but he didn't care. If he didn't tell someone about it, he would go insane.
"Was there nothing else that could he done?"
"No. There's nothing. No treatment or a way to slow it down. Once the virus in them is confirmed to have been activated, they become living time bombs."
"Then you did the best you could. If anything, you saved them from becoming mindless flesh eating monsters." Clara said as she rubbed John's back. This wasn't some lie she told him to make him feel better.
"Really? Maybe you're right." John's eyes started to lighten back up, suddenly feeling a lot better. But the pain was still there, and would continue to stay for quite a while. What he had done wasn't something that could just fade away easily.
After a few more minutes of talking, John's radio interrupted the both of them as they were getting dressed.
"All units! Get your ass to the wall now! We got incoming!" The voice coming from the radio was very urgent, indicating the seriousness of the situation.
"Looks like you'll be busy for a while. Stay safe and give em hell!" Clara said with a chuckle, giving John a hug.
"Heh, you too."
With that they left the classroom and were just about to separate, when Clara began coughing a little.
"You okay?" John walked over with a concerned look to his face and worry in his voice.
"Don't look so worried, it's just a little cough. I'll be fine." A final kiss on the cheek, and Clara left to go towards Alexis. Though, she did make a little white lie. She didn't really feel so great, and her head was kind-of hurting, but there was no need to worry him like that. He needed to focus on the task ahead.
John watched her walk away with a relieved look. With a rare smile, he made his way out of the building and up to the wall with some of his other squad members waiting there. He stood next to Carter who gave him a nod.
"Anyone know what's coming?" John asked.
"No clue. But I did manage to get a peek at a couple of Sergeants. They didn't look so good." One of the other squad member replied to him.
"They probably know something we don't."
"No shit Sherlock. Really needed Watson for that deduction one huh?"
"You sonofa bi-" The arguing soldier, and all the others nearby whether they be civilian or military, quieted down once they heard shots. Gunshots and screams were originating from inside the camp from multiple places.
Before John could move his radio, along with the others, all piped up at the same time.
"Attention to all units! Retreat! Get to the nearest helicopter, now! Every bird will take off in 5 minutes, and we WILL leave your ass here!"
The soldiers hearing that hesitated for a split second, before running towards the nearest helicopter to escape. As for John, he went to the main building where Clara was at. His squad members saw this, and chased after him. They didn't need to ask where he was going, for they already knew of his relationship with Clara.
John, and friends, rushed inside to find the place already in chaos. People were rushing towards the exits with careless abandon. John looked through the crowd, but failed to find her. Knowing he didn't have the luxury of time, John decided to go to the classroom. Together, the group ignored the packed elevators and instead ran for the stairs. Although they were full of people too, it wasn't as bad.
They pushed their way through the crowd and went up a few floors. The higher they got, the less people they saw and the more infected they encountered. Eventually, they made it to the desired floor and opened the door. Inside, John found none of the people sitting against lockers or talking amongst themselves. In their place, were pools of blood and eaten bodies scattered around the hallway.
They easily dispatched the few infected around and immediately went to the classroom John and Clara called home. The door was smashed and laid on the ground broken. His heart fearing the worst, John stepped inside the classroom. There she was. Her back towards him.
"C-Clara?" He called out, hopeful that she would turn around with a smile and be fine. Just like she said.
But life sadly wasn't a fairy tale. What turned around instead was a face with bloody eyes and a mouth still chewing on flesh. The infected Clara ran for John with her mouth wide open and arms stretched out, desperate to take even a single bite.
When she was just a few feet away, John shot her in the head. Her body fell face down and refused to move again.
"John? You okay?" Carter said with a sad face. He had interacted with Clara a few times and knew she was a good person who didn't deserve such a fate.
"Fine. Let's get to the roof and leave." John replied with no emotion in his voice or on his face, and began walking away. The others wanted to say something, but decided not to.
The way to the roof wasn't that perilous. They did have to take care of a few more infected, but were in the clear when they made it to the top. A few soldiers stopped them and checked for any bites or signs of turning before letting them pass. John immediately boarded a nearby helicopter and strapped himself in, ignoring the others as his thoughts drifted. Only when the squad members who came with John were also strapped in, did they notice one missing.
"Carter?! The hell are you doing?! Get in!" One of them piped up at seeing the young man standing outside.
"I'm sorry, but I can't go. I can't just leave these people to die. It's just not in me. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." Carter explained with a sad smile on his face. With that he went back down the stairs, desperate to save even one soul. Even at the cost of his own.
When John heard the end of Carter's statement, he immediately thought of Clara and lost himself inside his own mind. He didn't try to stop him. What was the point? They were all doomed anyhow. Besides, he knew Carter and how stubborn he was.
Soon, the pilots were given the go-ahead and began taking off one after another. As they were lifted into the air, the spectators from high above could see the ginormous swarm of bodies rushing for the camp. The sheer number of them sent goosebumps and chills down their neck. Even if they could win, they would certainly take heavy losses. Of course, that was based on the assumption they weren't fighting a war on two fronts.
The remaining soldiers and civilians on the ground looked up with dread as their last hope started flying away. They started running in all directions, or even packing themselves into the left over vehicles and attempt to drive away. But most were fated to die here. For death had arrived.
As John looked out the window at the ruined city below with blank eyes, his thoughts were dominated by a certain woman. Memories of the food they ate, drinks they shared, talks deep into the night, and passion filled intimacy flooded his mind. Tears began running down his face as he kept replaying her death scene and their short-lived but meaningful relationship together.
When they first started, it was just a friend's with benefits kind of thing. But now that she was gone, he understood how much he cared for her.
John was not alone in producing the waterworks. A few others were crying over various things. Brothers lost and left behind, the things they had done or seen, and overall the general crappyness of the world at the moment.
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The trip to safety didn't take too long. A few hours had passed when they finally made it to their destination. Sitting in the middle of the ocean, was an entire fleet of diverse ships ranging from Destroyers, to Aircraft Carriers. Not only John, but all the helicopters carrying soldiers from the refugee camps inside the city landed on the same Carrier.
The Aircraft Carriers were being used to house not only soldiers, but all the refugees from multiple cities on this side of the country. Currently, they were beyond packed and couldn't hold too much more.
As John disembarked, he noticed the odd amount of helicopters. There should've been more. Way more.
It was only later did John learn what really happened. Rats.
Infected rats had managed to bite a few people and since those people refused to report it, they spread like a plague as most of the soldiers were at the wall. Another major problem, was the third camp. It was completely wiped out. No survivors, supposedly.
John was definitely suspicious about that. There was something they were hiding, but nothing could be done to find out the truth as of now. Then there was the second camp which at the time, was currently under attack by a large horde. Thus, the order to retreat was given.
There was certainly something going on. All three camps falling on the same day? Of course, John wasn't the only one who put the pieces of the puzzle into place.
But then again, John didn't much care for all the secrets and whatnot. All he wanted at the moment, was sleep. And maybe some booze to forget the pain.