The air was filled with acrid smoke and the sound of M16s barking death as a team of UN soldiers, clad in dark green combat uniforms and gas masks, stood their ground in an abandoned city street.
Pitch black humanoid creatures, bodies contorted in impossible shapes, lurched forwards, some shrieking in pain while others howled in rage.
"Raymond! Get that damn machine gun up!" Sergeant Emmett Browns, a scarred soldier who had battled Dark hordes twice, yelled out over the deafening cries of infecteds.
Private Raymond scrambled away from his firing position, getting hit in the side by an ejected shell from his comrade's M16, and ran over to the HUMVEE- a large, tan, and armored vehicle they had used to drive in here.
His hands shook, his breath quickened, and he nearly tripped over a crack in the road as he made his way to the back of the car.
Bang! Bang bang bang bang!
More yelling- and a scream, too. Three of them, to be exact; one of the soldiers was too close to the horde and was getting eaten alive in front of two others who kept on firing into the black mass.
Somehow, someway, his fingers- his fingers that shook like an earthquake- managed to unlatch the trunk of the HUMVEE, revealing a tripod and an unmounted M1919 Browning machine gun.
"Gepard! Get your ass over to Raymond and make yourself useful!" Emmett shouted as Raymond's weak arms dragged the tripod out of the trunk.
His M16 was pushed uncomfortably against his chest, but the fear that ran through him of both the Darks and his sergeant kept him from collapsing, and he managed to set the tripod down in the middle of the increasingly small circle of soldiers.
Gepard, a hulking mountain of a man, followed closely behind Raymond, carrying the M1919 Browning itself with little struggle.
"A-AH, OH MY GOD, S-SOMEONE HELP-!" Raymond recognized that panicked voice, and he turned around right in time to see his friend- Allah Redman- get torn apart as Dark teeth bit into his flesh.
Raymond froze. His body stilled. His skin paled. His eyes dilated, and he stumbled back in fear and shock.
"STUPID ZOMBIES! TAKE THIS!" A younger recruit, not scared by the guts coming out of Allah's now open stomach and running off of pure adrenaline, tossed a grenade and raised his M16, firing round after round after round until the explosive sent bodies flying.
"They're coming from West Street! Gepard, mow 'em down!" Emmett yelled, and Gepard immediately began to turn the M1919 around, facing West Street.
Bang! Bangbangbangbangbangbang!
.50 caliber shells clattered to the ground as the machine gun roared, bullets liquefying Dark organs and sending them flying.
The rest of the team was still dealing with the now-small groups of Darks coming from everywhere else- Raymond and the younger recruit were firing straight into a large pack, aiming for heads.
Suddenly- bzzrt. "Alpha, this is Tango A1, do you copy?"
Emmett ran to the radio, replying as fast as he could, "Tango A1, this is Alpha! We're under attack and running out of ammo, requesting immediate evac!"
Silence on the line. Then, bzzrt. "Request confirmed, Alpha. Evac heli's coming in five minutes. Can you hold for that time?"
"We can hold, just be here in five!"
Raymond almost dropped his rifle in surprise; evac was coming? In five minutes? He damn near let out a whoop- he would survive!
Click.
"Shit...!" He took several steps back, ejecting his empty magazine and reloading a new one before once more sending bullets into the horde.
Heads, aim for heads...
"SHIT! I'm dry! Anyone got ammo!?"
He tried to stay calm. Just keep on firing, just aim, just shoot...
"Crap! Same here!" That was the recruit next to him, who quickly unholstered his M1911 pistol. "Anyone who's dry, just switch to secondaries!"
In a sharp contrast to the loud, almost thump-like sounds of Raymond's M16, the quieter, clap-like noises of firing M1911s filled the air.
Wait.
They filled the air.
Raymond only heard one gun making a thump noise.
His.
"Evac's in two minutes! Hold position!" Emmett yelled to everyone- but then someone screamed.
"IT'S GOT ME, IT'S GOT ME! HELP-!"
Pop! Pop pop pop!
The sound of M1911s firing had another added to their ranks as Raymond dropped his empty M16, switching to his pistol as he- and the other soldiers- slowly walked backwards, converging on one point; Gepard.
The M1919 machine gun was still up, but Raymond could see that it had very limited ammo in it- at most, 50 bullets left.
He glanced to the side- the person who had screamed, Reginald, was gone, being eaten by three Darks. Nobody wasted ammo on any of those; only the ones that were actively running for them.
Pop! Pop! Pop pop pop pop!
"Headshots! Headshots, people!" Emmett yelled, raising his own service pistol to join his soldiers in combat.
And then, the chop chop chop sound of helicopter blades filled their ears.
A white chinook, the blue UN symbol emblazened on its side, was coming for them. Rescue.
Bzzrt. "Alpha, this is Tango A1. Prepare for extraction, over."
Pop pop pop! Pop pop pop pop! Pop!
The M1911s kept on throwing slugs at the Darks- more and more of them were coming, and Raymond could see a horde amassing far down the street.
The blades got louder and louder and louder, until Raymond could literally feel the wind blowing against his back.
Ropes fell down from the back of the chinook, and Emmett immediately yelled, "Everyone, up the ropes! Go, go, go!" He shoved Gepard towards the lines first; the big man didn't hesitate and just climbed up, and then the recruit went up, and finally, everyone but him and Raymond were up.
"Alpha, this is Tango A1. We only have one seat left, over."
Emmett stared at Raymond, and even through the visor of the gas mask, Raymond could see the weariness on the other man's face.
"Go."
Raymond took a shaky breath in, and stepped towards the ropes- but then he faced Emmett, and handed him his M1911, and the last two mags he had. "Good luck, Sergeant."
And with that, Raymond climbed up the line, getting into the chinook and taking his seat.
The lines retracted, and as the door slowly closed, Raymond caught sight of the horde- like a black wave, descending upon Emmett.
The door closed, and the blades were the only noise he could really hear, but he swore that his sergeant yelled out, "Come and get me, you bastards!"