Posted by: Jest3r March 06, 2005 08:01 pm

The First Scream A red sun bloomed over the apocalyptic metropolis that was Heavens Gate. The infection was spreading. Several miles to the south... Corporal Harper. Corporal Mike Harper. An officer of the West Town Police Department for only two short years. He lived on the outskirts of the city, about a mile from his precinct. Every morning, he would jog into work, as he took pride in his physical strength. A small service revolver lay taped to his left leg under his sock. As one foot pounded on the pavement after the other, he calmly waved to some neighbors he saw. The closer he got to the city however, the less people were waving to him. The city had seen a plentiful amount of riots in the past weeks over the mayor's new tax plan. Occasionally, the riots had turned violent and the WTPD had been forced to end the proceedings with aggression. Mike Harper tried to put this in the back of his mind, but he could not. The WTPD logo typed onto his sweatshirt and hat made him an emblem of scorn, a target for all to see. Harper glanced down at his watch. 7:10. He would arrive nearly twenty minutes early to relieve the night shift. Because of this extra time, he slowed down at a street vendor and bought a pretzel. A grizzled old man looked up and smiled. "Hey, Mike." "Hey Mr. S. Lemme get a pretzel and a coke please," Mike replied. He was grateful that no further conversation was needed, as the radio was humming quietly on the machine. He feigned interest in the report. The announcer, however, was not saying something about the riots; "...Heavens Gate officials have not yet been reached for comment as to..." "Here you go. Good luck today," said the kindly old vendor, cutting off the broadcaster. Mike Harper nodded his thanks. As he left, he saw other customers gather around the radio. In the distance he could swear he heard the constant thup thup of a cadre of helicopters. *** It was another five minutes before Harper got into his station. Everyone inside was running madly around the office, trying to find this document and that weapon, all buzzing around busily. Officers were screaming into phones, shifting papers, so much so that the building was a picture of ordered chaos. Before Harper could come to any conclusions, Captain Barnet, leader of Mike's S.W.A.T. unit, rushed up to him. "Follow me Mike." They began to walk down a maze of hallways and offices towards the lockers. "What the hell is going on?" "Sorry to rush you into this, but there was a horrible... riot... during the night, across the bridges," explained the captain. If you can even call it a riot. "So? If it was so bad why wasn't I called in?" "Landlines have been restricted to let our communications get through easier. Also, check your pager, maybe its out of batteries, Mike looked down at his pager, and it was indeed out of power. There's more..." the captain paused as they had to back against a wall to allow fully armed and armored officers to rush past them. "As you know, West Town is divided into a north and south section by the Platinum Bridges. As of this moment, the northern precincts have declared martial law. They are allowing no one to get across to either side of the city. "Why in the hell..." Harper noted to himself that that sounded more like a quarantine procedure than martial law. Captain Barnet held up his hand and ushered Harper into the prep room. It was now that Mike understood the urgency of the situation. Out of bed and into armor. He hurriedly strapped on his gear. Harper noticed that all lockers had been stocked with additional Kevlar layers, namely in the form of a thin Kevlar shirt, fore-arm plates, and leggings. Barnet continued his explanation. "A few days ago, Heavens Gate reported a problem with their populace. That was the official explanation we got from the officials. Soon after, military types started showing up. No news got to us about what the hell was going on, because the marines basically blockaded any kind of information that was being sent out of the city," he stopped talking for a moment to toss Harper some Kevlar leg pads. A moment of silence passed as Harper continued to get his gear together. "Im still listening sir." "Oh, right. Apparently however, the marines only prevented information from leaving the city. Something else got out too." "What do you mean?" questioned Harper. "At approximately 0400 hours, yesterday, an ambulance burst through the toll booths in the north side of town. The vehicle was from a Heavens Gate hospital. The driver was actually some sort of security officer. He crashed into North Sector Hospital, and came out of the vehicle holding a head wound we think it could have been some sort of animal bite. He ran to the back of the ambulance to open the doors. Now, we arent exactly sure what he saw in that ambulance, the security camera angles wont show it but whatever it was, it scared him shitless. He drew his firearm and fired fourteen rounds. A cop who was waiting in the lobby tackled him before he could use the last round on himself, and believe me, he wanted to. The cop had to break his arm to get him to stop. The whole time the man was screaming 'Kill me and get out of West Town while you still can,'" as Barnet paused, he looked at his watch. "Hurry up, the briefing is set to being in ten." "I'm goin' as fast as I can, captain. And, believe me, Im trying to connect that story you just told me to the massive civil unrest north of us, but I can't," replied a slightly perturbed Harper. Barnet could give no straight answer at the moment. "We have the security feed from North Sector Hospital, that whole escapade I told you about is on it. You'll see the connection by the end of the briefing." "Why weren't any witnesses interviewed?" asked Harper. He was now done putting on all of his gear. Captain Barnet checked him over and then led him into the briefing room. "They're all dead," Barnet began to walk to the back room to speak with Lt. Daniels, but he paused to look back at Mike Harper and said, "Well at least they were." Corporal Harper, shocked by his commanders last words, sat down without giving a response. "What the hell does that mean?" he thought to himself. He looked around the briefing room. It was rather large blue room with stadium seating. In the back lay a projector, and in the front was a huge white screen, which slightly offset the podium to the left of its large face. He was sitting on a seat on the left side of the room, which was already beginning to collect with a few groups of S.W.A.T. officers, also waiting for the briefing to begin. "Harper! Oy! Harper!" cried a familiar voice, "Over here." It was Garrison Poole, his unit's sniper. He was chatting with Elizabeth Izzy Stripes and Scott Sanders, also members of his unit. Mike Harper got up and walked over to them. "Hey guys. Anyone know what the hell is going on?" asked Harper. "Short and to the point started Sanders." Izzy smirked and stifled a laugh. Poole nudged her arm and she stopped. "We were just discussin' that very topic. The situation I mean. Sanders here has heard some interesting rumors," said Poole. Harper noticed a sudden drop in the cheeriness of the conversation. "They aren't rumors. Anyone here read anything on the news about anything that happened last night? Anyone?" Sanders' words carried with them an ominous tone. They only knew of the disturbances because Barnet had told them. "No wonder. Only seven police reports were filed last night. Seven about the riots I mean." Harper became interested. "Weren't there about two hundred-" "Two hundred and fourteen officers," interrupted Sanders, "seven reports were filed because only seven officers reported back. Only seven. Apparently, they were so shocked because of what they had seen that most of their logged in reports were just a few sentences long. Then, some army types showed up and brought a few of them from precinct to precinct, I don't know why. Maybe to brief the higher-ups." "And how exactly did you happen to come across this information?" asked Izzy. "I'm gettin' there. So I get here about an hour ago, I get my stuff on, and Barnet tells me why he had to wake me up, you know what I mean. One of those seven riot officers comes out of Chiefs office. He didnt look normal. He was hollow. His eyes sort of darted around. A nervous wreck. His hand kept on twitching to his holster, even though there wasn't a gun in it. He told me-" Sanders paused and shuddered as he remembered the look of horror upon the mans face. "He told me what happened. What he saw. The people he was there to control, were wrong. Something wasn't right about them. When the crowd didn't go down with tear gas, they kept on mulling on towards the riot line. He saw an officer hit one of the rioters with a baton, and the arm he hit snapped like a twig. After he bent down to help him, the guy freakin' bit him. Tore his left eye and nose off," Poole, Harper and Izzy all shuddered noticeably. "But it gets worse. The guy whose armed snapped, the one who bit that other officer? Well, he got up and started attacking again. So, the man who I talked to was forced to shoot him in the back and in the legs. Even that didn't put that thing down. His shots destroyed the body, don't get me wrong, even though they were 9 millimeter, but that thing kept on attacking. A head shot, which blew his head clean off, seemed to be the only way to put him down. Within a few minutes, everything was in chaos. After a minute or two, the officer who lost an eye and a nose started to act like one of the rioters, trying to bite at anything that moved." Sanders glanced at the clock. The briefing was set to begin in a minute, so he decided to summarize the rest of the mans story. "So that guy who told me all of this, one of the only survivors, said he had to sprint from building to building for almost twelve hours before he got back across the bridges. Apparently the- I don't know what to call them, just shuffle slowly, so they hadn't gotten near the bridges yet. Also, the guy said something strange before the military personnel had to take him to another precinct. He said that its some sort of infection that changes people. It takes away their rationale, their... everything. It just makes the infected attack the living. He said we might at well call the infected the undead. No soul, just hunger." A moment of silence passed between the four of them. The room was now nearly packed. The rest of their squad had assembled on one side of the room, so the quartet sat down near the rest of them. Lieutenant Daniels, a confident, battle scarred S.W.A.T. leader strode into the front of the room as the lights dimmed. He was flanked by Captain Barnet and Captain Mullins, the leader of the other S.W.A.T. team. Lt. Daniels picked up a small device on the podium and pushed it. The white screen came alive with an image of North Sector Hospital, the one that the Heavens Gate ambulance had crashed into. "Good morning. I would like to begin by saying that as of fourteen minutes ago, we lost contact with all facets of northern West Town personnel. Although some survivors may still be alive, any cameras mounted in cruisers and helmet cams show that the plague which hit Heavens Gate is slowly spreading throughout our citizens. Millions are feared dead, and our only choice is to aggressively defend the southern districts. Chief has given you all, the elite, the hardest job any man has been asked to do over the past few days," Lieutenant Daniels paused for a moment to let his words sink in. The room was deathly silent. The number millions echoed in their heads. "We have been assigned the task of re-entering the northern half of the city. We're going in." Sanders muttered to Harper, "Short and to the point." The briefing then began in earnest. Daniels clicked the button again and a few security feeds from the Hospital showed up on the screen. He zoomed in on a camera facing the main doors just as an ambulanced shattered the glass. To be continued... *** This first installment should set a few parts of the stage. Rest assured, there will be plenty of adrenaline filled moments to come, but I'm going to also build a structured story around those moments. The next section will be posted by the end of the week. Feed back in the form of criticism and/or compliments (what you would like to see, if you want more character depth, what you liked, etc.) is greatly appreciated! I receive all comments with an open mind.

Posted by: bert March 07, 2005 06:54 am

This is pretty cool. But what do you mean by 'just as an ambulanced shattered the glass.'?

Posted by: Till Death Do us Part March 07, 2005 02:31 pm

Um, wow. That's...that's pretty freaking long. I love long chapters. Gives me a good reading. Keep it up, excellent start.

Posted by: Lord_Of_The_Pings March 07, 2005 06:08 pm

Great read. Please write another episode soon

Posted by: Keyes March 07, 2005 09:11 pm

this is some good stuff keep going!

Posted by: Jest3r March 07, 2005 09:12 pm

to bert- read Barnet's speech again. the briefing begins with the security tapes from the hospital (previously recorded). NEW CHAPTER POSTED BELOW vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Posted by: Jest3r March 09, 2005 11:52 pm

*** RECAP: The S.W.A.T. teams are watching the white projection screen, watching the events at the hospital unfold from the day before Both S.W.A.T. teams observed the ambulance. After a wave of people had run away from the danger, the driver spilled out of the vehicle, and without missing a step, walked to the back of it and opened fire just as Barnet had said. A man sprinted towards the security officer whom had just been driving. Lt. Daniels paused the recording for a moment, "This is the unidentified officer taking down the suspect. He was forced to disarm him and carry him to the ER for the arm he broke and for the bite marks on his skull." He clicked the button and the tape continued to play. The officer, now being assisted by a few nurses, carried the wounded man out of camera shot. However, as Harper noticed, the man went completely limp just before he was fully out of view. "Time is of the essence, so I will move forward to approximately two hours later," said Daniels as the white screen flickered and the time label at the edge of the monitor changed to two hours ahead. The camera angle was the same. A few policemen were gathered around the crash site, marking spots of blood, noting the contents of the interior. Two orderlies, masked by the black and white of the security camera feed, had just lowered a stretcher from the back of the ambulance, which was carrying a black bag. After a minute or two, all of the officers who were marking evidence suddenly perked up. They looked no different from an animal sensing prey on the wind as they held their ears to their radios. Instantly, they all began to sprint out of camera view, towards some disturbance elsewhere in the hospital. A few people in the lobby buzzed for an instant in conversation, and then lost interest and went back to their tasks. Two minutes of uneventful silence passed. "Lieutenant Daniels, sir, perhaps we should-" "Patience, Captain Mullins," interrupted Daniels, "they need to see this happen." Mullins nodded gruffly and stood back at attention. The white projector, now a flickering recording of a security feed, would not yet give up its secrets. A quiet hum began to buzz about the briefing room as the officers grew more restless. They wanted to know what was happening elsewhere in the hospital. An answer came. One of the police officers came running back into camera view. He seemed to be trying to shepherd the personnel in the lobby out of the door, but it was too late. His pistol aimed at some target past the monitor's view, and burst open with a flash of white light. A few of the people in the lobby huddled into a ball and just stayed still. Also, it seemed that whatever he was shooting at was coming into view. A herd of slow, bloodied, shuffling people edged towards the panicking officer. Barnet cleared his throat and said, "I know its hard to watch but pay attention. Watch the woman in the upper right corner of the screen." A woman, dressed in all white clothes was huddled in the corner, near the scene of the crash. The herd of people seemed to swarm over the officer, and nothing was seen of him. The fate of the woman, however, was burned onto the screen of the monitor. One of the things began to tear and slash at her legs, and then slowly began to render flesh off of her. Her white clothes quickly became soaked in a blackish color, normally red had not the security camera been recording in black and white. It was the same color covering all of the other creatures, who were now filling the lobby. The color of blood. After the creature seemed to have its fill, it lost interest, stood back up, and joined the rest of its kind. They were piling out the door now, filling the streets of West Town with their infected, hungry selves. Mike Harper estimated that as he watched them spill out the door, there must have been hundreds. The whole hospital seemed to have emptied itself. Several horrific sights filled the screen as the S.W.A.T. officers being briefed watched in awe, the worst of which being several of them had body bags hanging loosely off of them. The things had gotten into the hospital morgue. The shocked yet confused silence which filled the briefing room was broken as Daniels clicked the button. Captain Mullins then stepped forward to give his part of the briefing. "Observe the woman. Her legs have been nearly completely eaten-" his face tried to hide the look of disgust upon it, "her neck has been torn wide open, along with most of her left side. Sir," he motioned to Lieutenant Daniels, who clicked the button again. A gasp came from an officer in the briefing room as the woman stood up, and began to shuffle slowly towards the door, just like the others. Despite missing nearly the left half of her body, and her bones showing through the skin on her legs, she had gotten up and walked. Daniels ignored the awe of his teams. He continued with the briefing, trying to reignite a professional atmosphere. A calm hand swept over his greased hair as he looked briefly at the screen, then at his men. "Listen up. Intel is limited. The plague seemed to sweep through the northern districts, so far as to within two blocks of the bridges at this moment. No one reported anything unusual because it seemed like a normal riot. The reports of break-ins and homicides tripled by early evening, thats when we sent the extra riot police. Needless to say, that was the biggest mistake we made. We are now under-manned, even though we called up all reserves and officers in the city. All other units have been assigned to hold off the hostile populace at the bridges. Any negotiators or negotiating attempts have been met with the death of another officer," Daniels walked to the side and clicked the button yet again. A few slides of the creatures were flashing across the screen. Poole raised his hand and asked, "How in the hell did you get those pictures? Whoever took them must've been a foot away!" Daniels nodded at the question. "Most are from two helmet cams that are still functioning within the northern districts. The helmet reads all life signs negative, but yet the images move. We can assume from this that the hostiles have in fact died. The thing our doctors cant figure out is why the primal urges to feed and the motor functions associated with feeding are still functioning. In any case, all who have died have quickly undergone reanimation within three minutes, as the security camera in the hospital showed. In addition with reanimation comes extreme aggressive, homicidal behavior. The subjects will use any means necessary in order to bite you. We are not sure why victims quickly die and reanimate, but the only thing we have to go on is that tape. Everything else is unofficial, but it is possible that the disease is spread through blood to blood contact." Captain Barnet now stepped forward. "All assailants appear to have a similar visual appearance. To say the least, they are bloodied and incoherent. Most seem to suffer from a decrease in movement speed. As you can see from the images behind me, this seems to be caused by the crushing of the ankles due to the body weight. Apparently, the disease, plague, whatever, makes the subjects bodily defenses weaker, such as bones, tissue, skin, you get the point. Surviving officers from last night's riots," Sanders nudged Harper, who was sitting to his left. Sanders had been telling the truth, "have told us that even a nine millimeter will blow large chunks of flesh away. Despite that, they don't seem to go down unless heavy nerve damage is inflicted," Barnet looked over the crowd of blue. They all looked to him for more answers, but he could give none. Trying to save face he said, "I'm sorry. We hardly know anything else," he looked once at the screen, then back at the podium, and stepped down. "Thank you Captain. Now that you have a basic understanding of the hostilities, the Chief has asked of you certain tasks. Captain Mullins team, this part is for you. Twenty one blocks away from Platinum Bridge 2, straight down the street, is Precinct Four of the northern districts. This is your mission sight. You will enter the building from APC, ground level. You will most likely have to bypass any barricades officers may have built around the doors, if there were any survivors. Once inside, your primary objective will be to locate the explosives contained in the basement armory. Secondary objectives are to locate the dispatch recordings for the past three days, and to evacuate any survivors you may encounter within the precinct. Extraction will be from the APC, secondary plan is extraction via helicopter, but don't count on it. We need those explosives to create choke points around the bridges, so this needs to be a dust and hump mission. Good luck." All of the men under Captain Mullins stood up and filed out of the room. Lieutenant Daniels, after watching the last of Mullins team leave the room, turned to face Barnet's team. They could all see some sort of change come over his face. Daniels, previously looking confident and bright, now looked frustrated. Whatever the orders were, they must not be pretty, thought Harper. "As you may have guessed," began Lieutenant Daniels yet again, "information is limited when regarding this phenomenon which has hit our city. No doubt all of you heard about the sudden blockade of Heavens Gate, and the sudden dispersing of this blockade. The time tables are just too damn close to be coincidence. As soon as the military blockade left, that ambulance came crashing into our city, and brought something with it. What happened at Heavens Gate is happening here. So, as soon as we noticed that homicides and break-ins were tripled in the northern districts, one of our dispatchers noted that one of the last bits of news that got out of Heavens Gate said that the crime rate had increased by a staggering amount. Chief decided to send a small, commandeered news helicopter out to the city, just after our own troubles had begun, to take a peek. It could not broadcast video feeds directly to central command, but they had video cameras on board. When the helicopter came back into radio range, they sent out this message;" He pulled out a recording device and placed it on the podium, hitting the play button. "Copy copy, this is Correspondent 7, I repeat this is Correspondent 7- footage obtained, coming in hot to North Sector Hospital. Wounded on boa-hey! Get your hands off of --." The voice stopped for a moment, silenced temporarily by static. "Jesus, he tore Sams arm o- . Static. The signal now began to break up. A voice in the background interrupted the pilot, What the hell is that?" The first voice then frantically screamed into the radio, "It's a missile! I'm goin' low-hang on, brace for imp-." A massive shock ran through the device on the podium. The helicopter had obviously been hit by something, and had then crashed. However, the radio was still working. "What the hell get away! Sam! Sam its me-" a heavy burst of static. "Dear god s-body help us, they're ---." The static overcame the recording. A few muffled screams of the crew could be heard as Daniels clicked off the recording. Daniels let the obvious speak for itself. "Your primary objective is to locate the wreckage and collect all mission data. They were instructed to store the documents, tapes, and photographs they took in a relatively damage retardant box. infrared signals from a few of our choppers in the air indicate fires all over the city, but confirm the location of your mission site to be at the corner of 113th and 74th street. Thats only a block away from North Sector Hospital where the infections origins lie, so stay frosty. Secondary objectives are to locate any survivors within a one block radius, especially any from the helicopter team. Extraction will be via helicopter, which is also your entry vehicle. Any survivors are to be prioritized and evacuated in groups, but keep in mind your primary objective. Captain Barnet will brief you on individual dust off plans en route. Any questions?" he paused for a moment. Private James Harrison, the newest member of the S.W.A.T. team raised his hand and asked, "Why are we going in by chopper if the last one in that area got shot down?" "You wont be coming from a no-fly zone previously under quarantine by the military. Any more?" None were asked. "Good. God speed and good luck." *** The entire team got up and headed for the weapons storage, which was just outside of the briefing room. Not a single word was passed between them. All of their training had involved taking down known thugs and criminals, not assisting in the control of a rapidly growing plague. The briefing was over, and now it was time to go to work, and get the job done. All nine of them, nine including Captain Barnet that is, had their weapon of choice. Several members had brought personal weaponry, such as Harpers stub nosed .38 revolver which now lay in an ankle holster outside of his boot. The officer inside of the weapons storage handed out to each man or woman their weapons. Some had MP-5s, M-4 Tactical Carbines, and even an M-16 was handed out. Pistols of a wide range of shapes and sizes were also handed out. Pooles M-24 sniper rifle was in the APC already, but since this would most likely be a close ranged fight if hostilities broke out, he grabbed a silver SPAS-12 shotgun to carry. Corporal Harper had always preferred an M3 Tactical Shotgun, since he was always the one to enter a building first. Extra ammo was also handed out and slid and packed into the vests and harnesses of the S.W.A.T. team. With everyone feeling slightly heavier yet better protected, they all filed into the helicopter waiting for them on the roof of the precinct building. The pilot gave a thumbs up to them as they sat down. Harper, who was sitting in the door opening of the helicopter, clipped himself in and nodded to Izzy, sitting adjacent to him. He heard a familiar voice shout out from the back of the helicopter, just as the blades began to rotate, and the engines started to fire. It was Barnet. "Give us but a sword today," he shouted enthusiastically, "And we shall not fear tomorrow!" cried the whole team in unison. It was their unit's battle cry. "Cocked, locked, and ready to rock." added Sanders. "Amen to that," replied Harrison. The helicopter blades began to rotate faster and faster. Dust swirled away from the helicopter as it began to rise. No one on the team knew what was waiting for them on the other side of the city. No one could possibly know of the horrors which lay in wait. The stage was set. To be continued *** Please read through both sections of the story to fully understand what's happening. Any questions, comments, and criticisms are, as always, greatly appreciated and welcomed! Next installment will be coming soon...

Posted by: mrchace March 10, 2005 04:44 am

2 things 1. if you made a book of this i would buy it 2. you should go professional....you will be fucking rich....you contend with stephan king....i am always checking for your updated chapters

Posted by: Keyes March 10, 2005 09:06 am

this is really good cant wait for next chapter

Posted by: Jest3r March 15, 2005 05:19 am

UPDATES: I need some reader opinions here: *Before answering, please read the installments thus far* 1. Would you find this story more enjoyable/easier to read if I submitted shorter chapters? 2. Do you feel a general companionship between the characters? (not how you relate to them, but how they relate to each other) I'd be happy to respond to all questions, comments, and criticisms. NEW CHAPTER POSTED vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Posted by: Jest3r March 17, 2005 09:48 pm

RECAP: The briefing is over, and the team is heading towards their objective. The air pressed hard against Mike's face as the helicopter picked up speed. He could feel his rigging harness strain against the motion of the helicopter. His shotgun was stowed to the left of the door, ready to unhook at a moment's notice. As he leaned back, he felt his ammunition bags against his back. Four Kevlar box-like sacks were strung around the back of his belt, each carrying sixteen shells. It was a lot of ammo for a single mission, but he wasn't about to argue. Over the rush of wind and the whir of the blades he heard Captain Barnet begin to shout out orders. "Listen up!" he yelled, his voice combating the other sounds in the air, "The crash site is still burning, and we have confirmed that the mission data from that chopper is still inside. Intel shows us a gun store nearby is the only vantage point where we can lay down decent cover fire for first squad to get the package. First things first though, we gotta clear the store. I want a clean three second dust off, I'll take point. Harper, haul your ass behind mine. You're gonna have to blow out the locks on the side door. Next is Sanders, Izzy, and Davis. Corporal Adams, you, Alice and Harrison stick with Poole. Poole is carrying the supply bag and med kits, wear him like underwear." A few chuckles were heard around the helicopter. Harper then heard a crackle over the radio in his helmet from the pilots; "We're crossing over the bridges now. Looks like either heavy fog or smoke." The pilots were right. Harper looked between his dangling feet to see an intermittent grayish haze over where the bridges should be. He could also swear that he could see the yellow puffs and muffled pops of gunfire below, but the helicopter cleared the bridges before he could confirm anything. "Hang tight, it gets narrow around here. ETA in three minutes!" yelled the pilot. *** The helicopter and the S.W.A.T. team within were now winding between the skyscrapers of the Northern Districts. Below them was a mystery, and around them was an enigma. The smoky haze covered the streets, but the tallest buildings still stood as monuments to the conundrum of the situation. It was so quiet now. Their only company was their own reflections on the shaded black glass of the buildings. Above the noise of the helicopter was only the hush of wind. No sirens. No screams. No one. "Rules of engagement!" Barnet began again, but paused as he had to grab on to the ceiling as the chopper hit turbulence, "Are to eliminate any hostiles matching those you saw in the briefing. Aggressive and initiative force is authorized at all times." Barnet moved to the front of the helicopter to look out of the cockpit, looking for landmarks. He looked back at his S.W.A.T. team holding up three fingers and said, "Thirty seconds. Safeties off, charge and lock!" Harper leaned back slightly and unhinged his shotgun from its stored position. All around him, his squad was doing the same thing. As he pressed off his own safety, he could heard the clicks and springs move into place as magazines were placed in various weapons and cocked. He quickly lay his shotgun across his lap and pulled his USP from its holster, cocked it, and returned it. Izzy unpinned his harness so he could get off of the helicopter quickly, and he did the same for her. *** A dull bravado of tension filled the air as the helicopter descended lower and lower. Even as the blades of the machine blew smoke away, there was still no one visible. A dull thud against the pavement sprung Harpers reflexes into action. He leapt out of the door of the helicopter, waited for a split second for Barnet to get in front of him. His training led him to not look back, and to focus on clearing the helicopter and doing his job. Only trust and confidence could tell him that his squad was running behind him in perfect order. As soon as he saw the letters "B-A-R-N-E-T" flash in front of him, he began to sprint (the vests of each member on the team had their names or nicknames on the back of them). He looked down at his feet for a moment. They were pounding the pavement, shifting the weight of his fully armed self to their objective. The helicopter had lifted off by now, and all he could hear was a constant noise, the sound of jingling weapons and zippers combined with boots chafing the pavement and the huffing and puffing of the rest of his team. Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, he saw an arm reach out. A dull moan could be heard, but he once again had no time to react. He kept on running behind Barnet, his eyes on his captain. Harper's radio in his ear crackled to life. "Christ! Harper, behind you!" a burst of gunfire muffled by a silencer could be heard. The radio seemed to be picking up some kind of interference, so Harper could not tell who was speaking. "Hostiles, to the right!" "Contact made, Davis, Izzy, keep moving; Poole! Hurry your ass up!" "What the hell is-" "Behind you! Harrison, get--" a much louder gun shot coming from an un-silenced M4 Carbine drowned out the rest of the message. A voice, the only one which Harper could recognize came onto the radio, "Keep your asses moving! Hustle up and clear the store. Move move move!" It was obviously Barnet, shouting out his order as he rammed his side up against the brick wall of the building. Harper, seeing this, put his shotgun to his shoulder and fired one shot to the locks, and one shot to the doorknob. Barnet rolled in front of the doorway again and kicked it down. To be continued *** Feedback is greatly appreciated and taken into consideration! VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV NEW INSTALLMENT BELOW VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Posted by: Keyes March 17, 2005 11:06 pm

this is some good stuff we like!

Posted by: TheBlazeUK March 18, 2005 12:56 am

This is good, I especially like the confused radio chatter between the squad; as for your specific requests: 1. Keep posting in long segments, it makes it far easier for you to write it in my opinion - when you do short ones, a lot of the time you end a section before its really been developed - then when you come back to it, you've forgotten exactly what you wanted to do afterwards. 2. The squad seem to have a good companionship between them; its more evident in the first post (maybe you could have a little more non-proffessional dialouge between them - i.e. "holy shit! You see that?" or just a little banter "Headshots?" "Yeah, that bit at the top of the neck genius" "Man you shoot worse than these things smell"

Posted by: mrchace March 18, 2005 05:51 am

Shoot i wish my story were as good as yours =) keep up the great work!!!

Posted by: Jest3r April 08, 2005 11:55 pm

*** RECAP: The team has landed near the crash site, but things got hot quickly. We join the team as they enter the gun store. Corporal Harper pushed back the slide on his shotgun, ejecting the smoking shell. As he did this, he risked a look back. Through the gray haze he could see some members of his squad, still sprinting for the store. Harper pushed the slide on his shotgun forward again, pausing for a moment to hear the reassuring click of the loaded shell being snapped into place. A slight roll to his left, and he was in the building. The first man in the door always secured the center, the second man secured the left, and the third man secured the right. Harper stuck to his training, quickly darting into the shop and checking his corner. The front door and large display window had been covered with several large wooden planks. Bullet holes along the wall, incredible amounts of blood on the ground, and a small gap in a window told the story of what had taken place earlier in the day. Suddenly, Barnet swung his M-16 to check a hallway, and let off a quick burst of fire. "Hostile down! Sanders, Harrison, get your asses on the roof and give us some covering fire. Mike and Izzy, on my tail! The rest of you secure this building! Move!" "Poole, get that bag on the roof and break out the thermals!" cried Harper as he unrigged some of his outer armor. He, Izzy, and Barnet were going to make a run for the downed helicopter. "Poole? Poole! Where are you, you stupid shit?!" a rhetorical question, but he got a response none the less. It only added to the chaos of the moment. "This is Poole, officer down! I need- oh god Adams is down someone give me some covering fire!" his speech was interrupted as his Spas-12 let out a roar of thunder. "I'll be right back Alice, keep moving!" Harper heard this on his radio and from somewhere in the smoky abyss just outside the door. They were close to safety. Barnet, also taking off any excess gear he had, screamed to the rooftop so that Harrison could hear him. Harrison, I thought you were escort for Poole! "He was right behind me sir. I heard someone scream but I had to keep moving!" Back down on the first floor, the side door was kicked open once again as Poole crashed through it, his shotgun aimed directly behind him. He quickly threw the supply bag over to Izzy who was nearly toppled by its weight. She quickly ran with it to the roof to give Harrison and Sanders the proper equipment to see through the smoke. Seconds later, Poole dashed back for a moment into the smoke, and returned, guiding Alice and Corporal Adams behind him. Harper was horrified to see that Alice had some bleeding husk of a man on her shoulder. "Easy man, you're alright, you're O.K." she said to him. The man, looking like the only thing holding him together was his Kevlar vest, only opened his mouth slightly. A thin stream of blood came from where his words should have been. "Holy shit is that Adams?" said Izzy. "Keep strippin' down, we gotta make a run for that mission data-" Barnet's response was paused as Poole helped Alice throw the horribly injured Adams onto the counter, his bleeding body making a sickening thud on the table as blood poured out from the seams of his clothing, "only carry one spare mag. Christ what the hell happened?" Harper wondered why Barnet had to ask. Adams was now trembling on the counter, his hands trying to fill too many holes at once. A chunk of his left stomach was completely gone, and a gash on his neck seemed to cause the gurgling sound he made as he flung his arms wildly trying to stop the bleeding. In addition to this, it appeared that there were four scratches which traced down the front of his helmet, which eventually led into four cuts across his face. Even the dimly lit first floor of the shop would not hide the color red. Alice, the trained medic of the group, ripped of her helmet and got to work to try and save him. Her hair matted with blood as she struggled with him. "Poole, hold him down, hes going into shock. God damnit this bandage wont hold!" Izzy came running back down the staircase which led to the second floor and the roof. She pulled out a picture and began to study it. Captain Barnet grabbed Harper by the shoulder and spun him around, breaking his trance on his wounded friend. "We still have a job to do, we'll get him out of here as soon as we get those recordings from the helicopter." Harper nodded faintly, his only response was to load a few shells into his shotgun and cock it. Barnet, pleased that Harper was back to earth, motioned to Izzy. "Confirm objective location." Izzy looked up from a thermal photograph which must have been taken earlier in the day. "Crash site is approximately seventy-five meters down the street," she pointed to her left, "towards the road that the front door would normally open to." "Affirm. Davis, get down here and secure the door after we leave, but get ready to open it again in a hurry. Alice and Poole have got their hands filled." "Yes sir!" "Captain! This is Harrison, building secure! Sanders and I are ready to lay down a nice cozy blanket, but it looks like you'll be sleeping with a lot of those baddies!" "We always use protection. Ready runners?" Barnet looked at Izzy and Harper anxiously, yet only got a response from Izzy. Harpers gaze had wondered back to the horrid scene of Adams on the table. His neck and stomach wounds were wrapped tightly with bandages, which were quickly becoming stained with blood. His arms were shaking more than ever now, beating the table in a horrible rhythm until they suddenly stopped their percussion. Alice threw away a bandage with which she was trying to clear his face with and checked his pulse. "Shit I don't feel it. Stand back Poole," she shouted. Her face was red with anger and blood. No one on her own team was supposed to die like this. She breathed into his mouth and compressed his chest several times, uttering "One two three four..." "Harper!" Barnet slapped him. "Harper, I said, are you ready?" Harper only stared into the angry face of his captain and cried out "Sir yes sir!" "Move on my command- O.K., go go go!!" As Izzy and Harper chased after their captain, the shouts from Alice could still be heard. Thirteen fourteen fifteen, a hard breath into Adams, Damnit still nothing one two three As the trio left the store, the wind blew away some of the smoke, the soft sound bringing a temporary moment of reprieve to their ears. Harper shouldered his shotgun, ready for anything. Ok you bastards lets find out what the hell you are, he thought to himself. His mind was on the mission data in the destroyed helicopter, his finger on the brim of his trigger. To be continued *** I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Are you? Questions, comments, and criticisms are, as always, appreciated! I'll try and post the next installment as soon as possible...

Posted by: Lord_Of_The_Pings April 09, 2005 09:06 pm

I like it keep the installments coming!

Posted by: Keyes April 09, 2005 11:58 pm

tis cool keep goin!

Posted by: Jest3r April 15, 2005 04:57 am

I just want to make a few notes on the story so far... I've gotten a little frustrated with posting the story here (not physically, I'm having technical issues), as my story, written in standard paragraph form in Word, seems to not make the transition here to these forums. My indentations just turn into blank lines, so it looks more like a movie script than its intended form. Although this is not necessarily a bad thing, I would like to fix this in order to make the selections easier on the eyes, so to speak. Anyone know how to fix this? My plan for the entire plot is to unfold over a rather long period of time. Thus far, is the story interesting enough to actually captivate you in a way that you wouldn't mind reading more? I hope that I've made this story as good as I can, and I am still implementing how I write these installments in order to make them more enjoyable, gripping, etc. . Any thoughts, questions, concerns, criticisms, or answers to the previous question are always read and taken into consideration. Until then... see you in the game!

Posted by: themannwhoknows April 17, 2005 03:24 pm

This story is real good like "the living and the dead" good.

Posted by: TheBlazeUK April 17, 2005 05:47 pm

I dont think you can place indents on this type of forum - the tab button simply switches to another entity, and I doubt theres BBcode for an indent. May just have to live with it. It annoys me a little too. Thanks for the compliment manwhoknows (personally Jester writes better than me...and more regularly too.)

Posted by: Jest3r May 04, 2005 04:48 am

UPDATE: I'm back. I just got out of a hard period of exams, and I'm about to get into another one. However, this will not mean I still stop with the story. I plan to submit a huge installment by the end of the month, leaving you readers at a real cliffhanger (and hopefully at the edge of the very seats you sit on). I do know what I want to have happen with the story, but the challenge comes with writing it all down. Until that time, I hope you will continue to enjoy reading mine and other great stories on this forum (not to say that my story is great or anything). Any questions? Comments? Criticisms thus far? Stay tuned... VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV New installment posted below!!! VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Posted by: Jest3r August 01, 2005 05:37 am

RECAP: Harper, Izzy, and Captain Barnet are making a run from the gun store to the downed helicopter. The mission data from the helicopter is the mission objective. Harrison and Sanders are on the roof of the gun store, laying down covering fire for the runners (Harper, Barnet, and Izzy). Alice, as we left her last, is trying to resuscitate the badly wounded Adams. Poole and Davis are also on the first floor, helping Alice and securing the door. *** As any person who has experienced a crisis would say, the line between safety and danger is crossed over by a single step. A single stride. A single bullet. To Harper, the threshold was obvious. Back in the southern precincts, the precincts which were (as far as he could summate) safe, he had felt a certain warmth. In the helicopter, and even in the gun store, he had also felt warm and secure. As he sprinted along the smoke filled streets of the northern sectors of West Town, all he felt was the cold etching in from every seam of his clothing. It wasn't the fact that he was now wearing less body armor, nor the fact that the injuries inflicted upon Corporal Adams had truly horrified him. As Harper searched within himself to find the answers to his questions, he found himself mesmerized by the word Izzy painted onto the back of Izzy's vest. Sanders voice came into his ear; "Keep it tight and straight! Harrison, you take the left side, I'll get the right." Barnet, running in front of Izzy, leveled his M-16 to his shoulder. Izzy did the same with her MP-5. Harper was already ready for anything. His itchy trigger finger dared the first hostile to take a swipe at him, but the smoke and fog around him would not reveal them. Suddenly, Harper heard a sound similar to that of angry hornets. The familiar tink and clicks of Sanders and Harrisons rifles brought an answer of force behind the swarm. Little trails of smoke were pushed aside as the bullets rained down on all sides of Harrison, Barnet, and Izzy. "Christ!" yelled Harrison from afar, "Hustle up, they're closing in on all sides, fast!" The incredibly loud sound of Captain Barnets M-16 nearly deafened Harper. "Keep moving! We're not even close yet!" Ahead of him, Harper could see the smoke light up with the brilliant yellow and orange hues of his commander's firearm. The sound of the gunfire from the gun-store's roof, the tinkling of tiny metal shells from the M-16, and dull moans from somewhere in the distance made up the orchestra of the desperate sprint for the downed helicopter. *** Somewhere in Precinct 4 of the Northern Districts, inside a police armory A S.W.A.T. officer lay slumped against the back of a wall, dead by some mysterious means. The name Mullins was painted on the front of his vest. Padded and stealthy footsteps were heard from a single man, though none were heard from the members of Captain Mullins' team. All of the bodies were strewn about the basement floor, and the hallway leading to it. Some cold reflection of their unsure purpose lay hovering in the air, a dull red mist settling after a storm of gunfire. Some members of the team had holes all over their chest area, and in the walls behind where they lay. One had a bite mark across the forearm, but the head had been blown away by what appeared to be a self inflicted gunshot. The mysterious figure, who was treading ever so carefully, was breathing somewhat heavily. His magazine in his long, silver rifle had but one round left in it, as the rest were lodged inside of the officers. On his head he wore a red helmet, a color which also appeared to fill an insignia across the entire front and back of his Kevlar vest. Splotchy gray and black camouflage lay under his armored self. From Mullins' shoulder, the very same one which would never move again, came the sound of distant radio chatter. "Christ...-stle up theyrea-...sides fast!" But that was another matter, more S.W.A.T. officers which would meet their fate in due time. The mysterious figure cocked his rifle, loading the last bullet into the chamber, and grabbed the magazine out of his rifle. He slowly bent down to flick off the deceased officer's radio. No sense in ruining the thrill of the chase. The man chuckled softly. He knew of the thrill of the chase, and the terror of pursuit. An image of a darkened hallway with a flashing strobe light filled his mind, blood covering the walls. Somewhere around the corners within his flashback came the endless sounds of the hideous moans which- "Red Seven to Red Fourteen, check your sector, did you find the explosives?" His commander's voice interrupted his nightmare. The man with the red helmet shook his head, trying to get the terror out of his mind. "Red Fourteen? Click once if you can't speak." "I'm alright," said the man. "Good to hear you, Jack, and the demolition charges?" The man, Jack, who stood alone in the station breathed deeply. The smell of discharged gun powder filled his nostrils, the familiar scent running through his senses. He looked down at an empty stack of bags at his feet. "No sir. The officers entered and cleared out the station. I got them all cleanly," he paused, "but something was wrong here. The charges were already gone." "Alright, pack it up and set up camp on the roof, extraction time will be when we take out the second team of police. They seem to think there's something important about that chopper we hit." Jack wordlessly slung his rifle to his back and proceeded to the roof. *** West Town was in chaos. All armed forces were either fortifying the bridges or patrolling the Southern Districts, looking for any signs of any outbreaks of the infection. The time in West Town was officially Lockdown + 3.07 hours. To be continued ***

Posted by: -=Chris Redfield=- August 01, 2005 04:29 pm

Oh my God, I loved it. I thought this thing died awhile ago, but thanks for updating it once again.

Posted by: Jest3r August 07, 2005 05:58 am

Hey readers. I'm debating whether or not to continue this. Do you all think that its worth it to keep it going? VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV NEW INSTALLMENT POSTED BELOW VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Posted by: -=Chris Redfield=- August 07, 2005 06:54 am

God, I think so. It's one of the best stories on these forums.

Posted by: Keyes August 07, 2005 12:46 pm

Definitely, man. You have skills. Keep the story going!

Posted by: Jest3r August 08, 2005 08:25 pm

RECAP: Captain Barnet, Izzy, and Harper have almost reached the downed helicopter, containing their mission objective. Harrison and Sanders remain on the rooftop of the store, covering them. Alice, Poole, and Davis are all supposedly protecting the store and trying to help the grievously wounded Adams. *** Harper was beginning to feel the sting of fatigue, but the downed helicopter was in sight. Captain Barnet shouted, "Izzy cover the rear, Harper on my six, I'm going to cut the data disks out of the chopper." Sanders and Harrison had stopped firing their barrage of metal, as no more targets could be identified. The silence was truly deafening. Corporal Harper still had his shotgun poised for action, but he could still not see what they had been shooting at. Within a second of the captains command, the trio had reached the helicopter. By now it was a charred carcass of what it once was. A yellow insignia, a News Channel 7, lay on the upturned side of the chopper. One or two small fires were lit inside, but Barnet did not care as he leaped into the helicopter. The pilot and co-pilot lay strapped into their chairs, their skin melted onto the soft leather, with some of their flesh missing as well. Their dead selves seemed to be staring wildly into the air, mocking grins on their faces. Harper stopped at the door and turned around, noting the hole in the rear of the helicopter, while the ever nimble Izzy hopped onto the cockpit of the helicopter. "Captain, this is Sanders. Christ we must've downed at least a hundred targets some of them are still twitchin-" "That's enough. Stay frosty. Harper, Izzy, check your sectors," said an occupied Barnet. Izzy calmly crouched down on the outside of the cracked windshield of the vehicle. Relaxed, but still alert, she slowly turned her head around the smoldering street. "All quiet on my side." Harper confirmed as well, but something wasn't right. Barnet was still struggling with the data inside the helicopter, it was obviously smelted to something inside. But something was still moving. "Hey, Izzy!" "Yea Harp?" "Toss me you're scope. I've got a shaker, looks like someone is trying to signal us or something. Harrison, Sanders, you confirm?" Harper glanced back at Izzy to catch the small scope she threw over to him. He slid it on top of the mounting rail on his M3 shotgun and peered into the smoke. "Negative Mike. Where did you see it?" said one of the officers on the roof of the store. "Check my line of sight," Harper pointed down the road. On the roof, Harrison and Sanders saw a thermal image of his arm pointing. "And check it left, scan that apartment complex. Something-" "Keep on your sector and well stay on ours, that building is clear," said Harrison. His voice sounded anxious. Harper lifted up his middle finger high in the air so Harrison and Sanders could see it. They chuckled, "Yeah we love you too sweety," they said sarcastically. Harper smiled. Izzy piped up. "Harper, I need-" He threw her scope back up to her before she could finish, and she put it in a vest pocket. "Data cleared, Ive got the tapes," said Barnet. He began to slide out of the wreckage, but then, a the sound of glass shattering filled the air. Izzy screamed and fired her weapon into the cockpit. "The fucking pilot has my leg!" She kicked back at the charred hand grabbing her leg. Barnet leaned over the seats to help her free from the inside, but he quickly drew back as the smoking corpse that was the co-pilot sunk his teeth into his neck. Izzy stuck her gun into the windshield and fired. Shells sprinkled on top of the helicopter, their horrid symphony ruining the serenity of the past few minutes. Barnet stumbled out of the wreckage. Harper caught him and helped him take a few steps. His captain pointed back to the helicopter and sputtered out the words "The.. tap...the tapes..." "Izzy! Grab the tapes and let's get the hell out of here!" yelled Harper. "What the hell, they weren't even alive how could-" Izzy stammered. "I don't know, I dont know! Grab the bag," she reached down and slung it around her back, "and go, Ill help Captain Barnet, get your ass moving! Go now!" Barnet struggled to keep his eyes open as he leaned heavily on Michael Harper. He lazily said, as if in a daze, "I'm-I'm fine it didn't tear it didn't bite too deep. I can feel someth- something it hurts," his voice trailed off. Izzy began to pan around nervously. "Harrison, Sanders," she said with a glint of panic in her eye. "We see them, protect Harper and Barnet and keep moving." "Keep talking, captain! Speak to me, say something, damnit," said Harper. He had to keep him awake and talking. He could feel his blood pouring out. It was almost soothing to Harper, the warm feeling. As Harper shook the horrible thought of his captains, his friends blood dripping down his back and chest, he thought he saw a hint of a flash of red from the apartment he was looking at before. Izzy looked back at Harper and Barnet, and motioned to them to keep up. "Hustle up! Those those things down the road are starting to get back up! They aren't staying down!" Suddenly, an enormous clap of noise ran through the air. Harper could sense what was coming. A massive bullet had been hurled out of a high powered rifle from some location unknown. He could feel the heat and the motion tear by his shoulder and lodge in and out of Barnet. The captain was hurled backwards as the high powered round tore a hole of equal force into him. The helmet which once protected his head was no more, only a shattered hunk of shrapnel. Frozen in shock, Harper screamed, "Officer down! Officer down! Hostile shooter in the area! God damnit, where did that come from?" His radio came to life again as Harrison yelled, "Sanders get down! I can see the-" a second shot ran through the air, followed by another. "Fall back Harper. Shit I'm hit bad in the leg. Sanders is down I'm inside and-Christ it hurts- your cover is down, make a run for the shop now and- what the hell Adams? Oh god oh god no please no, you-" a scream filled the radio, followed by a constant stream of grunts and panicked sounds. Pure horror spilled out of Harpers headset and into his ear. Izzy opened fire on a window in the apartment building. She looked back at Harper and yelled, "Come on! We gotta get back to the store!" With that, Harper let Barnet fall from his shoulder. He cringed at the thought of leaving his body out there, where those things could feed off of him, but he had no choice. He shouldered his shotgun and fired a blast into a twitching corpse on the ground. The smoke was beginning to be blown away by wind, and the extent of the hostiles became evident. All along the road, where Harrison and Sanders had opened fire, lay hundreds of corpses. Those without head wounds seemed to be getting up again. Harpers boots scratched the pavement as he and Izzy began to fall into a dead sprint. The road became narrower as the beasts closed in on their meals. Their bodies, devoid of any type of thought, walked in horrible rhythm. Harper loosed shells at them, but whenever one would go down, another would stand back up. They were getting closer and closer, their meals coming nearer to them. Confusion wracked Harpers mind. He had seen someone in that apartment, and Izzy had fired in that direction. There must've been some sort of sniper there, but why would they hit Barnet? And what the hell was happening back at the gun store? Harrison had screamed something that sounded like Adams but that was impossible. Adams was a bloodied shell of a man, wounded beyond all possible chance of survival. As those thoughts swirled about Harpers head as he opened the door to the store, where, supposedly, the rest of his team was. Izzy fired off the last rounds in her weapon and ran inside and bolted the door. Inside, it was remarkably quiet. The table where Adams was lying on when they had left was now empty. Izzy's trembling voice crackled as she spoke, "Hello?" something fell down at the darkened end of the store, making a loud crashing noise. Izzy's voice grew fierce, panic bubbling up from deep within her. "Is anyone here?" Silence met them broken by a dark, tortured moan from somewhere behind them, coming down the darkened stairs which led to the roof. Harper and Izzy both turned around. "Oh my god..." *** To be continued ***

Posted by: mrchace August 08, 2005 10:07 pm

dear fucking lord, if you stop the installments i will kill myself...

Posted by: Jest3r August 09, 2005 06:30 am

Well, I'll try and get the rest of the story set. It's not going to end anytime soon, so don't worry readers. I hope you've actually enjoyed all of the installments so far. If you have any questions about anything thats going on, I'd be happy to answer them. Until the next installment, I'll still check back on your comments/criticisms/concerns! VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV NEW INSTALLMENT POSTED BELOW VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Posted by: Jest3r August 12, 2005 07:36 am

"Show yourself!" Harper had his gun trained on the dark staircase. Izzy was back to back with him, covering the other end of the store. From outside the now dimly lit room they could hear endless thuds and moans against the steel door. Harper leveled his shotgun once more and shouted, "Show yourself!" And then, as if weighted by the burden of his own demise came a horribly wounded Harrison. He was crawling on hands and knees, blood dribbling onto the floor from his face. "Harrison? Are you-" Harrison held up a hand in warning. "Stay back," he stammered. Propping himself up against a wall, he slowly un-holstered his pistol from his hip with his right hand as he looked up and down his left arm. It was covered with scratches and horrible open wounds, some of which carried up to his forehead. He nearly panted as the gun came out of his holster, and its weight bore down on his arm. Lazily, he picked up the gun and pointed it back at the darkness of the stairwell. "I think I- I think I killed Adams I'm a murderer," he dropped his hand, letting the pistol rest in his lap. Harper leaned down to try and help him. "No man it's alright now, we can get you evacuated, let me see your-" but Harrison pushed Harper away. "I killed Adams he was... he was our friend," he slowly lifted his head as Izzy turned around to see what was going on. She breathed deeply, shocked by the sight of him. "I'm a fucking murderer..." "No," said Izzy, "you did what you had to do, Adams attacked you." Harrison grew upset. A tear ran down his cheek as his features began to harden into a furious look. "Don't you dare say that he was hurt, it was my fault! I'm a fucking killer!" With every word he spoke, the harder it was for him to continue. His injuries were beginning to overcome him. More tears began to stream down his face as he let out a sob, mixing with his blood as it dripped onto the floor. His face softened as he turned the gun on Harper and Izzy, who both immediately stood up. "Take it easy, were going to get you evacua-" "I'm not going to let you two be killers become murders no, no I wont let you do that. I won't." He suddenly turned his pistol, pointed it into his mouth, and pulled the trigger. The loud cracking sound echoed throughout the small store, all of the dark areas suddenly becoming illuminated, then falling back into darkness. Harrison's body slid down the wall he was propped up on, slumping down in a defeated fashion. He was perfectly still as the hole in his head was revealed to Harper and Izzy. The smoking shell from his weapon was quickly extinguished in the blood at his feet. Harper could feel Izzy next to him, leaning heavily on his shoulder. They stood there in stunned, heartbroken silence as the gunshot reverberated through their minds. The echo was sickening. "Izzy? Harper? Is that you?" a voice cried from somewhere, breaking the entrancing moment. Izzy spun around, now looking at the darkened front of the store. "Davis?" The heavy sadness running through her mind was replaced by concern. Harper peered into the dark edge of the store. Someone was crying as well. "Here," said Private Davis as he flicked on a light, "that might help." As the light was turned on, another horrid sight was revealed. Davis was sitting on a leather, worn chair, nursing a wound to his stomach. Davis looked up into Harper's eyes and answered his question before anyone could ask. "Harrison came down the stairs firing. Grazed my side. I'm alright, nothing- nothing bit me, but Alice," he nodded to his right. There was Alice, sitting up against the wall, her head buried in Pooles chest. The sympathetic looking Poole was whispering something into her ear as she cried softly. Davis continued. "Alice was giving Adams C.P.R.. Me and Poole both saw him move, and we thought he was going to be alright but Alice didn't feel a pulse, so she kept going. She leaned down to breathe into him, you know, to resuscitate him?" Harper nodded. "Well, Adams just opened his mouth and bit down. Alice, she-" Davis shuddered noticeably, "she screamed, and he bit her again, right on her jaw. Then he got up and started to come towards me and Poole, but then something made him lose interest. We heard Sanders and Harrison start to open fire, and Adams or whatever he was wandered near the stairs. Then Harrison came down on the stairs, firing wildly. He hit the light back there, and we didn't see what happened to him but we heard a couple of gunshots." he paused and secured the bandage around his stomach, making sure it was tight, "I got hit and backed the hell up. We heard someone moaning on the stairs, but Poole was busy caring for Alice. We were petrified man we couldn't go to help whoever was back there because we didn't know who was there." Davis looked apologetically at Harper and Izzy, looking for some sort of assurance from them that he had done the right thing. Izzy said nothing, but walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. It was then that Poole looked up at Harper. His eyes were red with grief, and his uniform was becoming soaked with Alice's blood. She would still not show her face, hiding it in Poole's shoulder. "Get a chopper, we need to get her evacuated right now." "How bad is it?" Harper replied. Poole's face contorted into a look of anger. "Now." He almost sounded desperate. Harper found where he had stripped off some of his gear before, and sifted through it for a high powered radio. His squad's radios were for personal communication only. He put on his gear as he continued to look, but could not find it. After searching Izzy's pile of gear as well, he turned to a vacant pile of gear in the corner. It was Captain Barnet's gear. He liberated the radio equipment from the sad little pile and held it up to his ears and mouth. He looked quickly at the sobbing Alice, and then began the transmission. "This is S-R Team Two, I repeat, this is S-R Team Two to Com Center, requesting immediate evac on my position, over." Harpers voice seemed steadily calm, yet ready to cross the line into hysteria at any moment. He was met by a brief bout of static, and then heard a voice, "Copy, this is Com Center," gunshots could be heard in the background, "Outbound receiver ride bearing on your position already, E.T.A. seven minutes." "Be advised, this zone is in Red condition, we don't know-" "We hear you. Seven minutes. Be ready to move." The corporal put down the radio and sat down next to Alice. She lifted her head up from Pooles shoulder, and revealed her demise. The entire front of her chin was missing, and the jaw bone was clearly visible. Flesh hung loosely from it. Running down her entire left side, the side closest to Poole, was a deep set of five gashes. Her face was streaming with tears, and she had difficulty speaking. I cant I cant Harper nodded understandingly, stringing her arm around him. Poole did the same. The broken form of Alice hung there, suspended by Poole and Harper. Izzy stood up and walked away. She slowly began to put the gear she had stripped off back on again. After she had finished, she turned around to watch Alice. She looked so sad trying desperately to think of some way she could survive, but found none. Alice knew that nothing Poole or Harper could say or do would save her from the horrible thing which had ripped through half of the city. Its heaviness slowly began to drag down her eyelids. A hard sob drained out of her, and then her grip tightened around Harper and Poole. They both leaned in closer to her. She exhaled heavily, and one final tear fell from her eyes. Her vice-like grip slowly began to loosen as her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, her mind sinking further and further into tranquil darkness. It was almost peaceful as she finally felt no pain. Alice seemed to bow her head, and her muscles relaxed slightly. The only noise from inside the store came from the heavy breaths of Poole and Harper. Izzy walked near the staircase, and bent down near the slumped figure of Harrison. She picked up his pistol. Davis stood up from his chair, only a few feet away from Alice, understanding what was about to take place. He removed his helmet and held it in his hand against his good side. Harper stood up slowly, and walked to stand next to him. Izzy soon joined them. Poole was left there, sitting with Alice. In the distance, the hum and whir of a helicopter could be heard, the constant whup of propeller blades alerting the squad to its inbound status. Poole began to speak, but stifled his own words. He gently pushed Alices blood matted hair back, and leaned her against the wall. His feet solemnly carried him to stand next to Izzy. They fell silent. Izzy raised the gun, and pointed it at Alice. The sound of the helicopter was getting closer and closer, beginning to drown out the dull moans heard from outside the store. Then, Alices eye lids began to open, and her fingers began to twitch. She slowly lifted her head and looked hungrily into Izzys eyes, and the barrel of the gun. Time seemed to stand still as a quick wind began to blow on the walls of the store. A gun shot rang out into the air and throughout the very fabric of the city... and then Silence... ***

Posted by: Jest3r August 13, 2005 12:06 am

I hope you've enjoyed 'The First Scream' so far. I could really use some feedback on how you think the story is going. Do you like the direction the story is going? Is the drama and action well played? SHARE YOUR OPINIONS! I'd be happy to answer any questions you may have about it, such as character bios, weapon information, and even medical information. After enjoying the latest installment, leave some feedback or an opinion, and help me make the next part of the story a success. Thank you!! Enjoy the zombification! VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV NEW INSTALLMENT BELOW VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Posted by: Jest3r August 14, 2005 03:56 am

Oh well none. The last installment is at the bottom of page 2, check to make sure you're up to date =). Despite the lack of criticism (positive/negative), I suppose it will be worthwhile to conclude the storyline of the Incident in West Town. Look for 'The First Scream: Part 2' soon. VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV New Installment Posted VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Posted by: -=Chris Redfield=- August 14, 2005 04:50 am

God damn it, how come no one is responding ot this?! This is a great story ya got here. You go into excellent amount of detail - not to much and not to little - and you can actually type English very...fluently. The character development seems to be pretty good, as in the conversations and their actions aren't unnatural or forced. The last sequence was pretty good - like the part about the man shooting himself. Nice job.

Posted by: Elite viking August 14, 2005 12:48 pm

You are the second best writer here around ever (best? Foxtrot_uniform). You write excellent, it's like you're a writer in your real life. Tons of descriptions, nice and spacy, it has, well, everything. Everything seems to be pondered on for a long time to make it just right. Keep writing

Posted by: Keyes August 14, 2005 01:33 pm

Definitely keep writing! If you stop, I'll up your warning level Just kidding about the warning level thing. But seriously, your stuff is really good. The storyline's good, the whole descriptiveness is good, and you've actually taken the time to check spelling, grammar and punctuation! So definitely keep going!

Posted by: mrchace August 14, 2005 11:54 pm

The reason im not responding is because i cant put my thoughts and feeling into words...if that makes any cence at all...

Posted by: KrazyFoYou1243 August 15, 2005 05:05 am

I likey. More please.

Posted by: Jest3r September 01, 2005 06:25 am

The First Scream: Part II Somewhere on the fourth floor of an apartment building overlooking the crash site and the gun store... A sniper, clad in a red helmet and an armored vest bearing insignias of the same colors, drew his long rifle back from the window. He could hear an approaching helicopter, and was not going to risk being killed. Closing the bi-pod on the underside of the weapon, he slung it over his shoulder and looked around the room. It was a simple, humble apartment. The bed was smeared with the stains of torn skin and matted hair. A brown night stand lay overturned in the corner, and sat in still contrast to the creaking door, which was wobbling with the breeze brought in by the open window. The home felt remarkably empty, its occupants long gone to some unforeseen demise. The sniper sighed deeply and un-holstered a small, compact pistol from his hip. He kicked open the door and checked around the corners. "All clear. This is Red Nine, I am requesting pick up on my mission zone." "This is Red Seven. Inbound units to your location get to the roof and get ready to haul ass, E.T.A. seven minutes. Update on mission status?" "I'm sorry sir, it failed. My charges in the crash site didn't detonate, the S.W.A.T. team must've damaged the receiver when they were advancing," replied the sniper. A hint of fear trickled through his voice. The thought of upsetting his superior seemed to perturb him. "No excuses necessary. We've got a major containment crisis on our hands," said Red Seven. The sniper chuckled as he interrupted, "This whole god damn mess is a containment crisis, with all do respect, sir-" "You do not have permission to speak frankly, do you understand?" "Yes sir, I understand sir," said the sniper. "This isn't a secure line, I can't tell you anything right now. Once we have all of our operators back to the Center, you'll be debriefed. Red Seven out." The mysterious sniper ran down the apartment complex corridor towards the stairwell. The insignia on the back of his armor was a crimson box, its top opened. The pieces were set. The inevitable was in motion. *** An orange sun began to crawl across the horizon to begin its slumber, passing off its luminescent duties to the lunar cycle. In the northern districts, a constant dull moan replaced the roar of thousands of cars and buses. The three Platinum Bridges, the only connecting structures between the northern and southern districts of West Town, were littered with abandoned vehicles. Smoldering wreckage was a more common sight as one would approach the southern side of the bridges. A strong, determined armored force, the West Town Police Department, had its orders to aggressively defend the bridges, firing on any of the strange, hungry creatures and any vehicles which refused to stop. The burning makeshift barricade of cars seemed to limit the creatures to crossing at only a trickle- it was almost as if they seemed disinterested, waiting for some kind of incentive to drive them towards the southern half of the city. As it is with every animal, hunger is the most powerful incentive of them all. Yet above the roar of the fires and occasional gunshots came an even louder noise. A scream tore through the cold air, ripening the scent of fresh death with its note of terror. The small body of a young boy came climbing over the burning wreckage. Tears of fear and grief struck his young features. He stood at the top of a rather large van, and looked back and reached out for something. "Just go! Don't stop! I love you sweetie." The police manning the barricades looked on with horror. They knew their orders, not to cross their barricades to help anyone. Simply waiting, guns drawn and aimed, seemed to be the only assistance they could give to the child as he ran towards the heavily armed policemen. He kept on running, running and crying fiercely. His little feet could only draw him so far away from the last obliterated car before the sound of hundreds of feet and hands clamoring on the metallic skeletons began to increase his primal drive to survive. The hungry denizens seemed to be chasing a badly wounded woman, who was crawling over the cars. Their bleak, almost sad eyes failed to notice hundreds of armed men and women raise their respective weapons. "Hold steady. Pull low and aim high." "Don't! That kid is still in the way!" cried out a voice. "We got no choice! They're bringing the whole damned city behind 'em." The woman, apparently the mother, raised her hand into the sky, whispering words unknown to all but those above. Her hand was brought down by those whom were once her own neighbors, friends, and family. "Open fire!" The end of the bridge turned into a giant flash of yellows, sharp whites, and fluorescent oranges. The barrage of gunfire lasted no longer than three seconds. They stopped, letting their final shells hit the ground peacefully. The officers stood in tight-jawed shock, knowing that the only thing keeping them from an outpouring of sorrow was their own sense of duty. The blood ran thick over the broken forms of the cars. To the uninformed observer, the scene was almost tranquil. "Clear up!" "Clear down- Figs! Get your ass back here now!" A lone officer had stepped over the police barricade. He was dressed in standard patrol gear with his only weapons, a standard issue pistol and a flashlight, aimed into the smoke. "Sir, I think I can see the child sir!" A superior sounding man slung an MP-5 around his back and drew his pistol, aiming at Figs. "Figs god damnit, I will not hesitate to follow our orders to the letter. Step back over the barricade now." "Got him," Figs lifted up a small, huddled form from the road, "At least let me take him down to quarantine, I think he's still alive." The superior shook his head angrily and reached out to take what looked like a small bundle of rags from Figs, the officer who had ran out past the barricade. Figs clicked the radio which was strapped to his left shoulder on, saying "This is Barricade Unit Three, prep quarantine for incoming civilian casualty." Static. "We copy. Ready for reception." *** Everything was moving. Nothing added up as it cascaded further into the abyss of confusion. The police helicopter was not flying gently, nor cautiously, nor silently. Corporal Michael Harper stared into the west, down the river into the setting sun. It was barely a small crescent on the horizon now, a mass of red fire sinking at a calm pace. He was loosely strapped onto the starboard skid of the chopper, his body bouncing side to side with every motion the vehicle made. Izzy lay somewhere in the back of the transport, replacing Davis' bandage which lay guard over the gun-shot wound on his left side. Poole sat on the opposite skid, his eyes darting from left to right, still on the lookout for any trouble. Harper hung his head, looking at the streets below. As they approached the three Platinum Bridges, he could see the teeming, bloodthirsty masses below his dangling feet shift and move. His mind began to play tricks on him. Again he felt Captain Barnet slip from his shoulder, the massive hole torn into his person. Harper quickly blinked and the vision was gone, but he could swear that he could still feel the heaviness of his dead commander, the phantom's weight still haunting his mind. The pilot of the helicopter leaned back and shouted, "E.T.A. two minutes, I have orders to deliver you all directly to Lieutenant Daniels," The remark seemed to wake Harper from his hard gaze. "Asshole," thought Harper. "I'm not a delivery boy for some damned piece of data. These recordings had better be worth it." He swung his leg over and into the chopper, pulling himself upright. Walking over to Izzy, he asked "Hows he doing?" Izzy looked up and removed her helmet. "What?" She shouted over the din of the moving helicopter. "How's Davis?" repeated Harper, much louder. "Oh. He'll be fine, he needed to take a rest, he lost quite a lot of blood. But hell, this is what, Davis' third time getting shot?" Izzy looked up at Harper, smiling her usual confident smile. The corporal could only find the heart to barely return the gesture, nodding with a weak smile. Poole waved from his seat on the port side skid of the chopper. "Yo Harp, check this out." Harper walked over to Poole, bent over to avoid the low ceiling of the chopper. He first looked at Poole, and then at where he was pointing, to the streets of the Southern District. "What do you make of it?" "It looks like an exodus," said Harper softly. "What?" "I said it looks like they're evacuating, but look at the traffic," Harper pointed down a long, visible street. "I don't think the exits of the city are open, there's no other way that many people would be backed up this far." Michael Harper blinked and held on to a rail above the helicopter door. The bloodied form of Harrison hung in his mind. Murderer... said the dead memory. Harper tried to shake off that horrible feeling. But still the word echoed through his head Murderer... Within a few seconds, the chopper was descending lower and lower onto a relatively tall building. Two figures were on the landing pad. As the familiar dull thud of the helicopter ricocheted through the interior of the helicopter, Izzy woke Davis up and carried him off, followed by Poole. Harper was the last one in the chopper. He made sure his weapon was hanging loose and at the ready in front of him, while his hands carried the bag of data. Lieutenant Daniels, flanked by another West Town police officer, walked forward to the four figures exiting the police transport. "Well?" he inquired with open arms, a look of anxiety on his face. Izzy, Davis leaning on her, glared up at the Lieutenant, passing him by without a word. Poole barely nodded in recognition of the rank which was greeting them. The information was obviously in dire requirement. As Harper approached, he lifted up the black bag of recordings and information, tossing it to the escort for Lieutenant Daniels. "There's the information," said Harper in a barely audible whisper. Daniels looked concerned. "And the rest of your team? Where are they?" "Lieutenant" began Harper, "we are the team." Lieutenant Daniels sent his escort down to a room below them to begin extracting the data from the recordings. He and Harper stood on the roof. Michael stared into the eyes of this fellow officer, making sure that he understood what he had just said. Lieutenant Daniels knew. He understood. Corporal Harper walked off toward the stairwell to the lower levels, leaving Daniels there for a moment, standing in the last seconds of daylight. And then he too turned and headed for the stairwell. Some distant word trailed off in Harpers mind as the first blankets of night began to wash over the city. Murderer... To be continued ***

Posted by: Keyes September 02, 2005 12:05 am

Pretty damn good. The sniper has me confused, though. Who is he?

Posted by: Jest3r September 02, 2005 12:21 am

Re-read the second to last chapter, there was a sniper who was engaging the police officers. The mysterious sniper and the other mercenary, Jack, will soon play a greater role in the story. Any more questions/comments/concerns? I hope you enjoyed the most recent post, which was only the beginning of Part II. Look for another installment soon!

Posted by: -=Chris Redfield=- September 02, 2005 10:25 pm

Will read later when I'm in the "reading mood" so I hope it's as good as your other installments.

Posted by: GaMeRT1 September 04, 2005 09:45 am

dammit man, that kid part was uber sad:( So far your story is well worthy of a book, and sometimes i get to think did he steal this? but you know that shits illegal and boogediy boogidy boo! Penis monkey, oh yes i went there im crazy arent i?

Posted by: Jest3r September 04, 2005 06:24 pm

Ha ha, thank you GaMeRT1. I'll take that as a compliment. This is all my original work. In reference to the child, he is not hurt badly, he is hardly hurt at all. Thanks to all of the readers thus far! A new installment will be in soon. Until then, any more comments/criticism/concerns? VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV NEW INSTALLMENT POSTED VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Posted by: GaMeRT1 September 05, 2005 05:45 am

oh, and i'd perfer to be called GaMeR:D its my ingame name and you probally havent seen me either lol im a guy like jouni who started out when BB first came out, back before there was DOTD_mall or the map stories:D lol just slaywatch and heavensgate

Posted by: -=Chris Redfield=- September 05, 2005 05:57 am

Bah cracka, I remember those days. Can't believe it's going to almost be a year since I've signed up on this thing. Too bad I don't post enough, though. I'm getting through this thing slowly but surely. God damn it, I'm just not in the mood to read, and it makes me sad...I really want to read it...

Posted by: Jest3r October 02, 2005 12:08 am

UPDATE: New installment will be posted soon! The next section of The First Scream will be posted in a couple of days. I hope you've all been enjoying the story so far. Any more comments/criticisms/concerns? They have been very helpful. Until then, see you in the game! VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV New Installment Below VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Posted by: Jest3r November 28, 2005 10:34 pm

RECAP: Izzy, Harper, Poole and Davis have made it back to the Southern Precincts. The rest of there team is eradicated. Izzy has taken Davis down to a treatment center in the building which they are in, a confiscated skyscraper. Harper has delivered the mission data from the downed helicopter, and it is being analyzed. As of the moment, the Southern Precincts are quarantined, its borders protected from the bloodied masses still lurking just north of them Twenty-eighth floor. A ceiling fan hummed softly. Corporal Michael Harper of the West Town Police Department was kneeling down inside of a small office cubicle, a space to become his home during the crisis. The gray, ambient sound emanating from the endless motion of the fan calmed his trembling nerves. Every echo on the floor of the building seemed to make his hand leap, reaching for the .38 still stuffed in his right boot. His shotgun and regular sidearm had been taken to the second floor for inspection. The burden of the day seemed to nearly lift from his shoulders as he finally sat down. The occasional burst of gunfire came from the nearby barricades, but the heaviest of the fighting seemed to come from the disheartened souls around him. Physically uninjured yet broken looking men and women were in the various cubicles around him, their dull stares lending promise to what they had experienced. "Harper?" called a familiar voice. The corporal heard no one call his name. His eyes began to sag as sleep overcame him. "I said, Harper." A second familiar voice. Harper looked up to see Izzy and Poole looking over him. "Sleeping on the job?" said Izzy with a smile. She reached down to catch Harpers hand and pulled him on his feet. "It's probably best to keep your gear on. There hasn't been hostile contact for a few minutes now, the barricades are just calibrating their fire on the wreckage down there but you never know." "Calibrating?" inquired Harper. "What for? Don't they know how to-." Izzy interrupted. "Lieutenant Daniels found records of some older surplus machine guns. Un-accurate as hell but still useful. We've got one down on the western Platinum Bridge, one at the center, and two at the eastern Bridge." Harper nodded. He slid his thinly armored shirt over his head, then snapped on his vest. After strapping on his leggings as well, he asked Poole for help with his forearm plates. Poole expertly attached the left arm plate, then picked up the right arm plate. "Jesus. Harp, take a look at this." Poole rotated the armor plate in his hand. There was a long gash running vertically down the side of it. "It didn't break the padding. No holes." Said Izzy. She smiled at Harper, but he did not return the gesture. He nervously laughed for a moment and then finished placing the plate over his arm. Within a few minutes, Harper was fully equipped and ready to move again. He started to say something, but the radio on his shoulder interrupted him. "Officer Poole, the Lieutenant approved your request. Come pick it up at weapon-locker C at the precinct down the road." Poole quickly replied "Roger." "What was that all about?" "I put in a request for an M-24. Mine was apparently lost with the APC." Izzy nodded understandingly, but then asked, "Wasn't Mullins' team supposed to get extraction from-." Harper interrupted. "Mullins and his team haven't been heard from since they entered their mission area." A silence fell on the trio of comrades. More friends, deceased. "Anyways how's Davis doing?" Izzy took a deep breath as if contemplating something. She then looked up at Harper. "What?" "I asked how Davis is doing. What'd the doctors say?" repeated Corporal Harper. "Oh he's -." "I'm heading down to pick up the rifle. Stay frosty people," said Poole as he walked toward the stairwell. Izzy and Harper nodded their goodbye and then the conversation continued. "Davis should be fine. The bullet was a ricochet, but it tore a nice hole. I don't like leaving him in the medical area down on the street though. It's too damn close to the bridges," explained Izzy with a hint of worry in her eyes. Harper had grown too accustomed to that look over the past hours. The thought of the emotions tore at his memories he could still feel the hunger closing in on all sides of him. As the night wore on, the lights on his floor were shut off to give the weary officers a chance to rest. Their only lullaby was the ever faint occasional blasts of gunfire from the Northern Precincts, and the occasional pass of an overhead helicopter. *** "Michael Harper?" a droning voice called out a familiar name. Three weary sets of eyelids slowly opened. "Corporal Michael Harper?" called the voice again. "Yeah," replied Harper in the darkness of the office floor, "is it time to roll again?" "New patrols and shifts start at 0700, you've got about another hour. I have your team's armaments back from the lockers, all except a Spas-12... the Lieutenant said that was replaced," said the supply officer. He dropped a pile of weapons from his shoulder and began to sort through them. "M3 Tactical Shotgun?" The officer picked up one of the slender objects from the pile, "And some ammunition. Eight extra shells. Good huntin'." "Goody. Oy, Izzy," he nudged the sleeping figure next to him. "You and Poole get your asses up. Santa's just arrived." "Elizabeth oh, sorry, Izzy Stripes? I read here that you've got an MP-5, which one?" "It's the one with the smiley face carved into the stock... yeah thats the one." She took the weapon and a magazine that the man handed to her. "I heard about what happened. You three are the last known S.W.A.T. officers in the city, other than that we've got the usual blue behind the barricades." Poole sleepily asked, "Who's on the machine guns then?" The supply man began to walk off, saying "Some National Guard types, nothing big, just local militia units." A few minutes of silence passed in the office floor. The dormant cubicles seemed especially hollow, their original occupants gone to fates unknown. A stiff smell of sweat and odor was rampant throughout the air. "Well we're geared up already. I think that the good Lieutenant Daniels hasn't assigned us any patrols or shifts on the barricade, but lets head out. I'm restless," said Harper, breaking the silence. He smashed his shotgun stock into the ground to shift his weight upwards, and he began to walk towards the staircase. The heavy-booted footsteps and jingling of equipment and ammunition told him that Poole and Izzy were following him. *** 0840 hours, street-level, in front of the wide street leading to the central of the Platinum Bridges. Poole was walking casually in front of Izzy and Harper, all three chewing on some stiff jerky commandeered from a local drug store. Poole stopped suddenly, looking up at the building on his left. "Check out that balcony, on the third floor." Harper looked up, shifting his shotgun at rest on his back to his chest. Seeing this, Poole quickly said, "Nothing hostile, but look at the angle of the balcony and the building next to it. That corner," he pointed at the adjacent, "and that vantage point," he held up his other arm to point at the balcony on the other building, "would make a perfect nest. I could cover half of the barricade, and the entire through street." Harper swung his shotgun to his back again. "That is, if we ever need to cover a retreat. God forbid." Suddenly, a large pack of regular officers and a pair of National Guardsmen went jogging down the street towards the bridge. The officers were armed with an assortment of simple pistols and shotguns, while the Guardsmen were armed with M-16s. Izzy and Poole nervously glanced at each other as they ran past. A swirl of shouts rose into the air from the barricade. Harper began to dash toward a side rail, one overlooking the river, where hundreds of men and women were lined up. They were all gazing out into the Northern Districts. The river was at its usual leisurely pace, its normally dull roar being droned out by the excitement in the air. "What is it?" asked someone from the crowd. One of the two National Guardsmen Harper had seen jogging replied, "I just got word from my C.O. that the last chopper patrol-there they are now," he aimed his finger into the sky at the distant form of two low flying black police helicopters approaching from the west, flying below the bridges, "just saw a massive movement of hostiles, all coming from various buildings and the back streets. All of a sudden, just bam, a whole nother couplea hundred thousand." Harper angrily said, with revenge on his mind, "Did they take any hostile fire?" The guardsman looked at him inquisitively, "No, they just reconed the hostiles I was briefed on, bloodied, hysterical people." Poole shook his head. "I doubt it. If they weren't out before, why would they just suddenly appear? It's gotta be a mistake." A high ranked officers voice could be heard from the west, from the Western Platinum bridge, yelling, "Long distance communications just went out, keep your local channels clear and ready!" The ranking officer at the central barricade, just a short distance to Harpers right side waved, confirming this information. As he did, the two police helicopters flew underneath the central bridge. The guardsman, now clear to reply to Poole's statement, just shrugged and returned to his post. "I can't see anything, maybe you're info was-" "Wait! Look across the water, at the streets, I think I see something!" "Dear Lord we don't even have enough ammunition to keep 'em at bay!" cried a panicked voice. "They have no reason to cross the bridges, they haven't been for hours, why would they start now?" said a much more purposeful voice. Izzy and Harper turned to request Poole to do something, but he was far ahead of them. His long, slender M-24 was supported against the side rail along the waterfront. His eye to the scope, he began to speak. "Thousands of the bloody bastards. I can't see an end to them... they just keep pouring out of the streets and onto the causeway a lot are going to each of the bridges. Still just shambling though, thank God," he said with an ominous tone. "That vantage point isn't looking like such a bad idea right about now," said Izzy, a note of fear in her voice. "I'll get to the balcony with you if we need to get out." Poole nodded sternly. He looked to Harper, but he found his friend to be transfixed on the sight across the river, the sight in the Northern Precincts. An enormous, edging mass was creeping closer and closer. Something was happening. Harper opened the side chamber on his shotgun and made sure that he was loaded. The resulting click gave him confidence as he saw a red shell disappear behind the weapon's exterior once more. The police helicopters had reached the eastern Platinum Bridge, and began to turn around when a strange sound echoed throughout the air. A burst of thunderous sound caused everyone along the bridges to become dead silent. They listened again to see if they could hear it but could only trace a faint whistling sound. The helicopters crested the eastern bridge, when suddenly... A dashing missile, red plumes of vapor behind it, crashed into the lead helicopter, sending it down with a puff of crimson smoke into the river. The second chopper veered slightly to avoid hitting the wreckage, but yet a second missile crashed into its fuselage, sending it spiraling down into the eastern bridge. Armed women and men began to run everywhere to their posts. More came pouring from the local buildings which had been commandeered during the emergency, all moving toward one of the three barricades positioned at each of the bridges. Izzy, placing her helmet on her head, crouched in the machine gun nest, her MP-5 comfortably rested on the newly erected sandbags. Harper was standing to her left, behind the simple wooden barricade. Officers and National Guardsmen alike had their respective weapons all lined up along each barricade. The police had their pistols, shotguns, and occasional small rifles pointed at the empty, bullet-ridden cars ahead of them. Poole glanced to his left, then his right. The western and eastern barricades were undergoing the same procedure. The sniper, Poole, walked between Harper and Izzy, nearly shouting to be heard over the din of footsteps and orders being shouted out. "I'm heading back to the vantage point, I wont be much of any good at this range. If the order is given, hustle your asses up and maybe we can retreat out of this alive." Harper nodded firmly, and Izzy did the same. Poole smacked Harpers helmet, then sprinted off. As soon as he began to run off, a strange sound began to ring throughout the city. Three distinct thumps rose up in volume, then quickly quieted down again. A strange whining sound flew through the air until someone shouted "Incoming! Get down!" An explosion shook the earth some distance behind Harper. Similar explosions shocked into the earth, all close to the barricades. "Clear up!" "Clear do- wait oh shit gas! GAS!" cried a voice. A red mist swirled about the air for a brief moment, the wind carrying it for an instant, then eradicating it. "Private Lorens Lorens are you alright?" said a higher ranked officer. "Lorens?" "Clear down. It was nothing, maybe just..." His voice was drowned out by the sound of bodies, hands, legs, arms, scrambling up on top of the wrecked cars at about the crest of the bridge. A low hum of moaning reverberated throughout the cold morning air. The sound of weapons cocking went down the armed line as the men and women took aim. "Oh God..." came an awed, shocked voice. "Here they come." To be continued ***

Posted by: Jest3r November 30, 2005 03:47 am

Any comments/concerns/criticisms are appreciated and noted. I know that it's been a while since I've updated The First Scream, but I figured better late than never. What do you think? Too sudden of a twist? What do you think will happen? VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV NEW INSTALLMENT POSTED BELOW VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Posted by: Keyes November 30, 2005 11:25 pm

It's pretty damn good. And don't worry - I wouldn't say that the twist was too quick. ...Haven't got much else to say, really...Just bring on the next installment!!!

Posted by: AcdM December 01, 2005 03:41 am

QUOTE It's pretty damn good. And don't worry - I wouldn't say that the twist was too quick. ...Haven't got much else to say, really...Just bring on the next installment!!! my thoughts exactly

Posted by: magnus399 December 02, 2005 03:58 am

gjyjg

Posted by: ShadowGL December 02, 2005 09:41 am

i dont get it zombies with rockets and morter like weapons thats some crazy shit there man

Posted by: Jest3r December 02, 2005 08:20 pm

Thank you for the comments, Keyes and AcdM, I appreciate it. As to magnus, I take that as a great compliment, thank you. To answer your question, I must say that I am not an author, yet do have works which I would like to get published. I will continue to develop the characters and tell the story of how they react to each new situation which arises. As to ShadowGL, you will be cleared as to the mortars and missiles soon. They are not from the undead, they are from an as of yet anonymous group. You will find out shortly. Thank you for your time in reading The First Scream so far. As always, I'm open to any new comments/criticisms/concerns. New installment coming soon! Until then, keep reading! VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV Installment Posted Below VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Posted by: Jest3r December 29, 2005 12:27 am

RECAP: Two police helicopters have been destroyed by missiles from an unknown group. Immediately afterward, three mortars strike the Southern Districts of the city, each mortar landing just behind each of the Platinum Bridges. A strange red gas was suddenly emitted, yet vaporized quickly. Davis is still in the medical tent, while Izzy and Harper are near the central barricade on the middle Platinum Bridge, preparing to hold the line. Poole is a few buildings behind them, ready to give covering sniper fire for the retreat, if one is needed. The undead hordes seem to have a renewed interest in the Southern Districts, their hunger growing with every beating moment of the harsh, cold air They could hear them coming. The bullet-ridden, smoking tangle of cars let loose the whine and cackle of hundreds if not thousands of starving hands and feet dashing across them. Still, none were in sight yet. The occasional shout could be heard from up and down the line. Izzy wrapped her fingers tightly around the grip of her MP-5, her anxiety making itself known through the sweat running down her face despite the coldness of the wind. She shifted her gaze from down her sights to Harper. He coolly returned the look with a smile, then turned back to face the oncoming horrors. An assertive voice called out, "Hold your fire, wait till they're in the open... we don't know how long we have to hold this position.: Tension seemed to crack throughout the armed line. Every once in a while a gunshot rang out, followed by harsh shouts to cease fire. The terrifying sounds of hundreds of hands and feet rushing upon the smoldering wreckage of cars became louder and louder in a crescendo of hunger until... "I can see them!" Bloodied heads began to appear over the top of the wreckage, their wards moving toward their well armed and armored meals. "Christ, I can still see them coming from the streets across the bridges, how many do you think are on our bridge?" inquired an unknown person. Izzy coolly placed a bloodied head in her sights as it began to crest over the wreckage. She replied "Too many. Stay calm and pick your targets, take your time." An authoritative voice cried out "Slide 'em out towards the middle lane in front of the machine gun, take aim! With that, Izzy's entire body seemed to relax. The head was in her sights as the creature fell off of the wreckage and began to lurch forward. More and more came over the cars. "Lay in to them! Open fire!" Izzys MP-5 let out a solid thud as the hammer cracked back, ejecting a smoking shell. Her target slumped to the asphalt in a bloodied heap, never to move again. The military men and officers all around her opened fire. The barricades to the west and east appeared to be doing the same thing. "Clear that right side! Fold them in!" "Crossfire, crossfire! Simms, Tart, swap lanes and cut them across." Harper fired his weapon, dropping two targets at once, but quickly fired another shell into a corpse that began to get back up again. Immediately after, the machine gun to his right opened fire. The thunderous ring of its projectiles quickly silenced all opposition in front of it. Bodies were torn to shreds in seconds as they withered beneath the heavy automatic fire. If they strayed too far out of the machine guns path, they were quickly eradicated by the small arms fire from the officers and military types. A few personnel dropped metallic magazines to the ground, quickly slapping in fresh new ones, ready to eliminate more hostiles, opening fire as soon as the cocking hammers had slammed back into position. "Cease fire!" The plinking of bullets continued for a moment, each ricocheting off of the smoldering wreckage. "Cease fire!" cried the commander, who was now situated behind the machine gun crew. "Wait for confirmation." The soft sounds of the wind mixed with the emissions of the river, adding to the quiet noise of the moment. "Confirmation on what, sir?" No reply. Harper looked to his right, gazing at the eastern barricade. A man was giving hand signals, waving his arms in an understood pattern. "Confirmed," remarked the commander with an overconfident grin. "No one can see any more coming." With these words, Izzy looked uncomfortably at Harper. While some of the men and women cheered, the pair of comrades stood up and walked to the thin railing to the west overlooking the small, rocky beach and the river. The smoke of gunfire rolled over the water, moving with the current. "We were only engaged for less than a minute. Where the hell did the rest of them go?" asked a bewildered Izzy. "There must have been thousands of them, hundreds of thousands of-" Harper waved at her to be quiet. He held his ear to the cold air, trying to blot out the sounds of celebration all around him. "What is it?" asked Izzy. "Shh I think I can..." He furrowed his brow, trying to concentrate on some odd motion he could barely pick out through the opaque smoke clouding the full view of the river. "No," he began, "it's nothing." Izzy patted Harper on his helmet. "Buck up. "I'm heading back to Poole to fill him in, I don't think our damn radios are working." She ran off down the street, then turned a quick right and proceeded to their sniper. The young corporal took off his helmet and began to calmly walk back to the barricade. The cries of victory filled the air. "Hell yes!" "Did you see that? Took 'em right out." Harper could only look on with despair at the bloodied bridge. Torrents of blood and grotesque forms of what must have been human at one point flowed freely down the curve of the bridge, pooling at the edge of the barricade. He looked up at the authoritative commander, expecting to see the same glee. But some other emotion ran across his face. Confusion. He and a handful of other officers were hunched around the long range communications set. Harper, recognizing a watch commander from his precinct, slowly asked, "Weren't long range sets picking up interference?" The police officer looked up, smiled and shook Harpers hand. "Good to see you, we thought that you all had... well... nevermind," he glanced at the bridge, then back again at the radio. "We've been hearing some chatter, sounds like an older military code. Its jamming our radios. Even the short-ranged ones now." Harper stepped into the crowd of personnel and listened. A faint whine and beeping sound came over the equipment. A military-looking officer quietly added to the noise, "That's definitely military encryption. We're the only outfit deployed here though, and we sure as hell aren't scrambling our own systems. Maybe-" His thoughts were interrupted when a sudden rash of loud thumps rose into the air, obviously coming from somewhere within the Northern Precincts in the city of West Town. "Everybody!" cried a voice, "Get down!" To be continued ***

Posted by: AcdM January 07, 2006 09:51 pm

Awesome, im looking forward for the next instalment.

Posted by: Elite viking January 07, 2006 10:56 pm

Superb You're the best talent around here, easily.

Posted by: Jest3r January 10, 2006 03:16 am

Thank you for the comment AcdM, it should be out soon! Also, I appreciate your compliments and support Elite viking. The next installment of The First Scream will be coming soon, I hope you will enjoy it. I also hope that you have been enjoying the story so far. Any other comments/questions/concerns? All are appreciated, noted, and taken into account! Until then, keep reading! Enjoy. VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV New installment posted below. VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Posted by: Security Corporate April 15, 2006 12:49 am

Sorry for the bump. Anyway, this is an awesome, incredible story. The grittiness and everything just pwns. Thats all I really have to say, because I'm too stunned to say more. My only problem is why the "unknown group" which is probably the sector of the government testing out their new virus keeps messing up everyone. The red smoke is probably "flesh scented" in order to lure the undead into the bridges and attack. I hate it. Why is there always someone else added in to complicate things? Its like Umbrella. It should be left between the people and the zombies, no secret government ops or anything. BTW, you HAVE to update this! I'm way looking foward to reading more!

Posted by: Jest3r May 03, 2006 11:03 pm

RECAP: The first wave has been repulsed. The three bridges- the West, Central, and East Platinum Bridges are still manned by still-living forces, trying to protect what remains of the city as civilians attempt to escape the coming madness. As a voice calls out a warning, projectiles can be heard spiraling through the air Harper did not stick around to ask questions. He placed his helmet back on his head and sprinted away from the barricades. A high pitched whistling sound amplified and amplified until Silence. As those who have been under a barrage of fire would say, when you can hear a shell in the distance, there is nothing to worry about. When the sound of spiraling death is loud, count your blessings and get down. However, when the atmosphere is completely silent, the shell is directly on top of you. With a sickening snap of silence, Harper felt his feet tear away from underneath him as his world was turned upside down. A hollow, ringing sound was all that remained of his hearing. A red vapor gusted around him as dust and bits of the road sprinkled around his shaken form. Their impacts on the ground were only seen, not heard. His trembling hand found its way to grope his head, searching for a helmet that was no longer there. Instead, it was met by the warm matting of blood in his hair. A muffled shout came from somewhere behind him, close to the bridges. Harper felt detached from his sense of self, each movement surprising him, as if the sensation of feeling was new. He took his weapon and rammed the stock into the ground, trying to prop himself up. "Harper!" cried a familiar, muffled voice. The butt of his shotgun slipped on the cratered pavement. He fell uncontrolled, lying on his side. His desolate eyes looked out to the bridges, and the water. Something was wrong there were screams in the distance, and something new in the air... "Harper! Clear out, clear out!" the voices swirling around him seemed to grow in amplitude. "I'm" he gave an attempt to wave his arm in the air, "I'm fine, just give me a minute..." "Clear out! The voice called out in a new direction. Christ, button up that flank! Where the hell are you going? Stay at your positions!" A response cried out from somewhere on the barricade. "What?" said the familiar voice. "I said," a more distant voice cried out in the distance. The ringing sound began to fade away as the true volume of the moment became apparent. "They're coming out of the no no, check your fire left she's coming up that lane!" Harper gazed back at the water. He slowly dragged himself to his feet, weapon in hand. Splashes of white erupted out of the water, as if the officers along the barricades were firing into it. The owner of the familiar voice arrived at his side, slinging his arm around her shoulders. It was Izzy, who had obviously run back, having delivered her news to Poole. "You are one lucky piece of work, you've still got your legs, maybe we can- fold back from that railing! Don't pull back to the secondary lines, we can hold." "There's too many of them! They're... they're coming out of the damned water! Thousands of them!" Izzy bore the brunt of Harpers weight across her shoulders. The young corporal could feel his feet slowly straggling along until he finally kicked something that felt like a sandbag. "Izzy, where where are we?" His friend hit her back heavily on the sandbags as she sat down. Her rough hands seemed to be busy working to piece something together on the pavement to his right. "Damn ejection port..." more gunfire lept into the air. "Where are we? I can hear the river," moaned Harper. His voice seemed barely audible. Everything seemed to come alive with bursts of sound now as his hearing gradually faded to normalcy. "Shells're always getting jammed come on you shiny bastard," a sharp click, "there we go. Izzy held her left hand up to her ear. Come again Poole?" He suddenly realized that the blast must have ripped his own radio from his ear along with his helmet. He listened intently. Above the gunfire, screams of terror, and the sounds of tramping feet and splashes coming nearer and nearer, the young corporal could barely hear slight bursts of static when Poole attempted to speak to Izzy through the headset. She cursed softly at her radio, as the signal was losing itself to static. Harper leaned himself upon the sandbags, relying on their rough comfort to temporarily relieve him from the terror of the things rushing toward the Southern Precincts with the speed and ferocity of primal hunger. He stretched his head over the top of the barricade, seeing only the occasional corpse crawl over the twisted wreckage, only to be blown away by a nearby officer. From what he could make out, most of the men and women had run to the sides of the Southern causeway, the road which ran parallel to the river. Round after round from their weapons poured into the river and the beach. Harper could not yet see their targets, but with each passing second their chatter grew more and more desperate. "How are they all coming at us? Got to use it all- frag out!" "Frag out, heading right," an explosion, followed by a brief splattering sound. "More targets, downrange. Where the hell are they coming from, we can't-" "Shit! Watch that one coming up the bank to the left-" Of the two main causeways in the city, the southern one was the only road with living denizens. The cold asphalt, running perpendicular to the bridges, was alive with commotion. Everywhere, men and women ran about, firing into the water as thousands of ripples stretched across the surface, bringing with them a new horror to face the Southern Districts, a new mouth to feed. Yet, beyond this, as silent radios could not report, the barricade at the Eastern Platinum Bridge began to break. Once proud officers and soldiers sprinted away from their emptied magazines and slavering targets. Some tried to run to the west as bloodied hands groped the railings overlooking the river and the beach and began to fling themselves onto the road, and closer to their prey. Their cries for help went unheard to the other barricades. No radio could accept nor hear their screams. Static. "Where the hell are the vehicles?" Shouted a commanding voice from the central bridge, somewhere close to Harper. "Gare, get on the comm, maybe it can reach them... check for the convoy, call sign Switchboard. Try and get East PB line on the air too, I can't see their signals." "Aye sir! Switchboard Switchboard, this is Central PB, come in. This is - god damnit, get a team on the beach and clear the wall! They're climbing up- Switchboard leader, I say again, Switchboard leader, this is Central PB defense line, requesting- get off! Get off me! Christ, somebody help me, they're-" More bursts of weapons fire followed the terrible sight. The radioman, terrifying hands groping all over him, was thrown onto the small rocks below, close to the raging river. The air was truly alive with noise. No amount of bullets could stop the torrents of undead coming out of the water, yet those who remained to defend the bridges still fired desperately. Across the river, thousands upon thousands of creatures still launched their bodies into the water, clamoring madly for the Southern Districts. To be continued *** I appreciate the support you have all given me so far. I must apologize for the fact that this installment was late in coming. I hope you enjoy... look for the next installment soon.

Posted by: Jest3r May 05, 2006 06:34 pm

Well, I hope you've enjoyed The First Scream so far. More to come soon. If you enjoyed what you read (however many installments that may be) I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me. 1. Are the Recap sections helping you jump back into the story? 2. Do you find the story to be accessible? As in, do you feel like you can effectively understand what is happening? Entertainment question: If you were a character in the story, who would you be? Who do you relate to the most? COMING SOON: - More installments, and the beginning of Part III. - A broad Recap post, containing key plot points and characters, meant to refresh your memory if you need some help diving right back into the story. REMEMBER: Please read the latest installment, tell me what you all think! It's posted just above this one. Any comments/questions/concerns/criticisms? All are appreciated and all are read!

Posted by: Keyes May 06, 2006 03:50 pm

This stuff is bloody good, Jester. I can't give any critisisms, because there isn't anything wrong with it. Keep writing, mate

Posted by: Elite viking May 07, 2006 10:32 pm

Jester, this is awesome. It's the best story on this forums, not a single one is even close. I identify a bit with Harper. He's a cool character, does his job. An in the latest installment you can feel his surivval instinct kicking in along with his responsibility. Even if he's been hit by a shell he tries to shrug it off.

Posted by: Nikku May 07, 2006 11:18 pm

This story simply blew me away, i wish i was as good as you at writing jester.

Posted by: Jest3r May 10, 2006 08:17 pm

Thank you all for your comments! Keyes- As always, I appreciate it man. I'll keep writing whenever I can! Elite Viking- That's a pretty steep compliment, I'll try to keep it that way. Also, thanks for telling me who you can identify with. I'm going to be continuing character development throughout the story, I hope you continue to like it. Nikku- Wow! I've enjoyed your (many) stories here too. Each are a quick, entertaining read. Keep writing! The next installment will be coming soon, not to mention the beginning of Part III. Any more comments/criticisms/concerns/questions? Until then, keep enjoying (and enjoy after that too). VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV New Installment Posted Below VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Posted by: Jest3r July 20, 2006 11:37 pm

UPDATE: New installment of The First Scream coming soon, within the next seven days! I apologize for the recent delays between the posting of these selections. Any readers out there with any comments/questions/concerns? Look here soon for the next installment! VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV New Installment Posted Below VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Posted by: Keyes July 20, 2006 11:59 pm

I have a concern: IT'S TAKING TOO DAMN LONG!!!! Seriously, though, I'm looking forward to it. And welcome back, by the way. You keep disappearing, mate

Posted by: Security Corporate July 21, 2006 09:20 am

Finally!

Posted by: JBMatt July 29, 2006 10:43 pm

I'd relate to Davis, gets shot a lot. But seriously man, good story, just started reading it and I'm stuck to it, hurry up with the next one!

Posted by: Jest3r August 06, 2006 06:02 pm

RECAP: West Town has desperately set up three barricades on each of the Platinum Bridges; West, Central, and East. The onslaught of the creatures has not ceased for hours. Panic and confusion still rule the day Two figures sat atop a building overlooking the Platinum Bridges. It was an older apartment building, set apart from most of the rest of its counterparts in the Northern Precincts by its uniquely old design. Architectural plans initially showed the tower as stretching ninety seven stories, however, zoning codes of the time prevented the building from extending any higher than seventy. These building limits were in place for the planned West Town Airport, a project which fell through after several major corporations moved their plants in West Town to more lucrative posts. Thus, two figures sat atop an antique, seventy story building overlooking the Platinum Bridges. Both were clad in identical grey, white, and black camouflage armor and uniforms, red piping outlining their otherwise hidden forms. "Jack? Command needs confirmation on the mission battery," asked one of the men. His companion had his attention focused through two blackened lenses. "Look at that... beautiful," said the red soldier with the binoculars. A simple thing like hunger driving the single greatest event in human history, he added with a slowly perverting smile. His tongue slowly slipped through his lips in a sort of greedy anticipation. This was what he had been waiting for, at least that's what he needed to show. "Jack, confirm impacts down the line." "Yes, Nine. I heard you the first time. Confirm impacts East battery, Central battery. West battery ineffective. Looks like the Eastern blockade is gone." Red Nine turned to his headset and repeated what Jack just told him. A short moment after, he nodded, placed the radio down, and crawled up to the ledge of the building. He watched as thousands of tiny bubbles rose to the surface of the river. Officers on the far side of the bridge fired futile round after futile round into the water, concentrating their fire even more on the shore where the creatures rose up to fulfill their hunger once more. "Fire mission battery, fox adjust left on West mission zone, point two two six," said Red Nine. His headset crackled in acknowledgement. Slowly, his hands drew his slender rifle to bear in his hands. His eye approached the scope to observe the impacts. Jack laughed in anticipation as the rounds flew over their heads. Their screeching sound became apparent to the officers, their legs carrying as far away from the impacts as possible. "Wait," said Red Nine, a hint of caution on his voice. "Jack, did you hear a second battery?" Jack snapped his eyes to the sky, his ears focused on his environment. "Impossible, maybe they," more thumps. "There it is. Ask command if they shifted target sectors," said Jack slightly perturbed. His show had been interrupted. "Red Command, this is Red Nine, did another team change the mission battery?" Silence. Red Command, please respond. A soft gust of wind picked up the layer of dust which lay dormant on top of the building, billowing the dirt playfully into tiny cyclones before dropping it down gently. Sharp cracks in the earth followed by a new flurry of gunfire and screams interrupted the tranquility on top of the building. Jack laughed playfully, slamming back the bolt on his rifle to let a round enter the chamber. "Say again? Please come again," a loud crack. Jack coolly cocked his rifle once more, "hush up Jack. Say again Command? Battery, you're breaking up command..." Static. "...battery inbound locate..." Red Nine looked up. "Jack, we have to get off this roof, now. The battery shifted, they could be redirected closer to us." "Oh yes, run. Run, run, run!" Jack let out a breathy chuckle, blood focused through his scope. His ears were closed to his partner. "They'll find us in the end. They always find us," Jack drew himself up to a crouched position. His binoculars were set aside as he groped for his rifle, unwilling to remove his eyes from the terrible battle. "You run that way? Well," a thunderous clap tore through the air. "I just can't have that, Officer. No, don't try and help him," he shuddered with anticipation. "here, I can see you just as easily, maybe..." "Something has happened to our rear guard, it could be subterfuge, maybe they," he stopped as Jack began to speak. "You don't understand. They'll find us in the end. We both failed our missions. I killed those officers trying to retrieve the explosives before we could obtain them. Mullins' team, if the intel was correct. I killed them but the explosives weren't there," Jack set down his rifle and stood up to face Red Nine. "What did you say when we got here? Your mission failed too? Check your radio now. Seems like they changed frequencies on us, doesn't it?" Jack took two steps toward Red Nine. "Don't jump to conclusions," Jack's eyes narrowed. Red Nine reconsidered what he was saying. "Yes," he began hesitantly, "I was assigned the second S.W.A.T. team, I had to stop them from retrieving that mission data, my trap didn't go off, but listen, there isn't time, command was trying to send-" Red Nine abruptly stopped speaking as Jacks eyes glistened in a cold fear. Two blue eyes darted nervously to the left and right. Static now completely filled their headsets. Jack moved his mouth, yet no vocalized words came out. Red Nine began to speak, but was stopped by a hand motion from him. Jack once again mouthed three words. They are listening. Red Nine scrambled to his feet, kicked up gravel as he did. Where are they? Jack casually waved his eyes to his left. Two distant figures were silhouetted on an adjacent skyscraper, stories above them. Red Command thinks were saboteurs. Get set to move. Jack slowly reached toward his right thigh where his sidearm was holstered. His hand began to tremble as he unhooked the highest restraint and thumbed back the hammer. *** Harper, now fully able to operate, stood tall amidst the cold noise surrounding him. "Shift your fire east, I can see the most ripples in the water that way," he said to the machine gun crew to his right, grunting to move the heavy emplacement. "We just got orders to shift west, give us some cover, corporal," came a gruff reply from one of the men. Izzy's head snapped around upon hearing this. "What orders? I haven't seen our CO, and-" She briefly turned her attention to the river to fire off a quick burst of the shots. She continued, a note of suspicious panic on her words, "and all of the radios have been out since the fighting began." Another member of the machine gun crew grunted while lifting the heavy emplacement with his other crewmen. "Damnit, we don't question the orders, they come in, we follow 'em. Look at the situation, no matter which way we turn this thing they're going to keep coming!" With a heavy thud, the crew dropped the gun and quickly hammered down its support. "Get that belt in!" "I'm working on it, damnit," the second crewman quickly slammed a belt into the ammunition feed and tapped his gunner on the back of the helmet. "Good to go." A heavy thunder crashed through the air, detonating skulls and hungry flesh throughout the water. Shells sprinkled out of the right side of machine gun like brass rain, their shells no longer shining due to a fine sprinkling of powder. For each heavy crack of the gun chamber, three or four bullets flew out at fatal velocities toward their prey. "Check your fire left, seven on the beach!" "Lieutenant, get your men off that ledge, pull back around us and provide fire support when we change out our barrel," the gunner cried out, releasing the trigger for a moment to make sure his words were heard. Adrenaline pumped through Harper's veins. He barely noticed the ground shattering behind him as more mortar shells detonated close by. A man, standing tall on a ledge with a connecting ramp to the waterfront turned his head angrily as the magazine fell from his pistol. "There are too many! If we leave this position they'll," he slapped in a fresh load of protection, "swarm up." One of the crewman shuddered as the machine gun let out a particularly loud burst of fire. He looked back up at the Lieutenant, shaking his head negatively. "What? I can't hear you." "I said," a scream from behind the Lieutenant interrupted his message and sent him running to a nearby railing. "Hold on, I've got you, just hold-" his mouth opened once more, blood erupting from its crevasse. Harper recognized that sickening sound again, that deadly, electrified pulse through the air followed by a dull thud and splatter. The Lieutenant fell to the ground, gasping for air to reach lungs which were barely there anymore. A hole lay dormant in his chest. His arms flailed hopelessly once or twice into the air, calling for some sort of impossible aide which would save him. Time seemed to slow down as the repetitious rhythm of the heavy machine gun tore the air apart. Harper found himself laying on the ground instinctively, staring at the Lieutenant. A nearby officer ran to his aide, only to be pounded into the pavement by a second, well aimed round. Something seemed to glimmer in the Lieutenants eyes as he looked eastward, toward the end of the causeway. His eyes grew wider. Death was sprinting at him from the broken Eastern barricade. Thousands of deaths, hunger propelling their legs. The smell of gunpowder was so thick. Vapors of hunger, terror, death all slithered into the nostrils of the surviving denizens of the Southern Precincts. Harper rolled on his back to face the east, his vest gently pressing against his back as it did. Sweat spilled out onto the pavement from the creases in his clothing. Harper stood to his knees and hastily slammed more shells into his shotgun. Izzy now saw what Harper had turned to look at. "To the east. To the east," she leveled her submachine-gun, firing two rounds. "They're coming from the east!" "To your flank, officers, form a firing line," cried an unknown authority figure. "To your hell, then," a youthful man stood up and stripped off his vest. "Good luck," he began to sprint away, throwing away other escape-hindering items. His panic disappeared with him as he rounded the corner of a building and ran off. "Open fire, shift them toward the edge." Izzy looked to her right, at Harper. "We've got to get back to the secondary lines, or at least back to Poole, he can cover us on the way back." "What about Davis? He's still in that medical tent," replied Harper, loud machine gun bursts causing him to pause every few words. "We can get him if we fall back now, we're being overrun, but-" she held her breath, and her left hand up to her ear. She lowered the MP-5, smoke spiraling out the blackened tip. "Say again?" Harper could not stand and wait for the answer. He dashed forward a few paces and stood atop a fire hydrant, leaning on a lamp post as he did. They came by the thousands to the east. In front of him, a thin, badly supplied handful of police officers and National Guard Personnel fired desperately into the approaching horde. With every second they paused to reload their weapons, the mass dashed closer and closer. Harper latched open the chamber on the side of his shotgun, making sure he had loaded a slug. Calm fingers twitched up the back sights as he lined up his shot. Izzy's voice shouted in the background of his mind, "Communications are back online, I'm trying to get Poole." Hold steady but breathe in and out. Let every inhale and exhale shift your sights, his training took control over his adrenaline filled body. All tensing muscles briefly relaxed in the final second before his shot, Kill the suspect, make no mistakes. Kill the suspect and live another day. His shotgun let forth a burst of flame. The upper body of Harper rocked backward gently, absorbing the kickback of the weapon perfectly. His left hand pumped another shell into the firing chamber. He did not pause to see the row of creatures he had cleared with a single, well aimed slug. "Poole, this is Izzy at the Central Bridge, do you copy?" she slung her MP-5 around her back as she crouched down and put her free hand to other ear. "Say again?" a pause. "Shit. Harper, flick on that long-range radio over there." Harper, breaking his trance, turned around and adjusted the long-range radio. Bursts of gunfire and static alike interrupted the speaker periodically. "All breaking... get back to secondary... East has... all fall ba-" "Iz, lets get the hell out of here, now!" Izzy tapped the machine gun crew on their helmets, pointed east, then ran over to Harper. "We can't just leave those officers like that, they haven't heard the call for retreat yet." "There's no time, they're coming over the edges here," "But, we can't just-" "We're being overrun," said an increasingly angry Harper. "Damnit Izzy, for once, we have to come first. If we don't make it back, more people will have to die." The two friends stood there on the road, breathing heavily through the combat filled air. The intensity in their eyes matched the noises and horrid smells drifting through the air, like two beasts eyeing each other for first rights to the prey. "Think of those people stuck in their cars, those things beating at the windows." Izzy blinked. Her eyes shone as the sun glorified her tears. "Poole," she said, her voice trembling. "We're getting back there, cover us." "Negative!" Poole shouted. So loud was his volume that Harper could hear the panic in his voice through Izzy's headset. Four distinct gunshots from the radio followed this cry. "They've broken through, they're behind us, they're everywhere. Get out anyway you can, get out, we can't-" Grunts. A gunshot. Muffled cries. Izzy began to sprint toward the south road, toward Poole's vantage point. "Poole!" she cried into her headset. "Izzy, no! You heard him, they're down that road," Harper broke into a run. "He's still alive, we can do this," Harper caught up to her, grabbing her arm. "We have to move west, those barricades are still operat-" Izzy jerked to get away. "Izzy, you will die if you go down that road." Her voice grew fierce as she ripped herself away from her friend. "Then let me. We have lost everyone today. Everyone." With that, Izzy turned away and ran toward the south road. Harper did not wait to see her turn down the street. He began to sprint westward, tapping shoulders and helmets on his way as he did, yelling, "The line's collapsed. Get to the Western Barricade, the line's collapsed!" His boots scratched the pavement, bits of debris and shells flying backward as they did. The sick symphony of shells sprinkling on the road, screams fulfilling the chorus, drove him faster and faster. For now, he kept the thoughts in the back of his mind. You're letting them die. No. Keep going, you have to live through this; more people are depending on you. Barnet, Adams, Harrison, Alice, Sanders. Murderer You have to do this. This is your duty. Murderer, they were your friends. Barnet, Adams, Harrison, Alice, Sanders, Poole, Davis, Izzy. Weren't they your duty as well? Harper shook his head as he continued to sprint toward the Western Barricade. He turned around briefly to see the machine gun crew begin to run, only to be taken beneath a swarm of horrific suffering. He recalled his training once more. If the suspect has not gone down, fire again. Fire until they are destroyed. You will live. Keep firing. Fire again. An echo of broken conscious, slowly softening as the crescendo of battle raged on. And again. And again and again To be continued ***

Posted by: Security Corporate August 06, 2006 06:05 pm

Yay!

Posted by: Keyes August 06, 2006 10:35 pm

Wow. Just...wow. You definitely have not lost your touch, Jester

Posted by: Security Corporate August 07, 2006 07:17 pm

Aww man, that was really good. And long too! To compensate for your absense. Nice work!

Posted by: Elite viking August 08, 2006 07:57 am

Awesome as always! Can't think of much more to say, however I'm a bit confused about the Lieutenant and the other policemen getting sniped. Why are the Red guys so mean

Posted by: Jest3r August 09, 2006 04:50 pm

Thank you all for reading! If you haven't told me what you think of the sotry and the latest installment already, please do. I appreciate the responses, it helps me shape the next chapters. I tried to go with a rapid set of plot twists in this latest installment in order to propel the overall story in a direction which could eventually come to an effective climax. This in turn changed the style of writing, something which reads more like a screenplay than it does like a short story. I hope you've enjoyed The First Scream. It will be continued. Thank you. To Keyes and Security Corporate: Haha, thank you for the responses. I'll try not to extend my absence for so long this time. To Elite viking: Your question will be explained in the next installment. Keep reading!

Posted by: Jest3r September 07, 2006 02:39 am

I would like to pose a question, one which I would appreciate all readers of The First Scream to answer. The question is: How long would you like The First Scream to continue for? I mean this in terms of sheer length. Would you like to see twice the number of present installments? Perhaps just a few more? Your answers will be helpful. I do plan to write this story into a very long piece, but for the forums, I would like to get an idea of what general length you all would like it to be. Thank you!

Posted by: GaMeRT1 January 07, 2007 12:14 am

Hell, i've been coming back to Ironoak, just to read these stories, i wanna see this go on for atleast 10 more isntallments:) Your stories are absolutely awesome lol.

Posted by: gordon_frohman January 07, 2007 01:01 am

another bump u done ^^

Posted by: GaMeRT1 January 07, 2007 10:11 pm

I'm the bump master

Posted by: mrmicky January 07, 2007 11:03 pm

And i am THE BUMP KING! Bow down before me!

Posted by: GaMeRT1 January 08, 2007 02:32 am

Ill bump your face in xD

Posted by: Elite viking January 08, 2007 09:15 am

I'll kill y'all if you don't stop. I will, believe me. Twice the ammount would do just fine, Jester. As long as you keep writing

Posted by: Jest3r February 09, 2007 02:13 am

I found my password! I'll be posting a new installment soon. Thank you for your support! *NOTE* I have just noticed that all quotation marks in the previous installment were removed for some reason. I will edit this and try to figure out why.

Posted by: Jest3r March 03, 2007 07:51 pm

On the twenty-third floor of the makeshift police headquarters, a rather short, fat man ran frantically down a brightly lit hallway. He pushed his rounded, sweaty glasses further up upon his nose as he pushed open a large brown door. It had a lusterless silver colored handle, a surplus doorknob that was recycled through several larger city buildings when the school board ordered far too many. The knob tilted downward as he raised his voice to a strong yell. “Lieutenant Daniels, you should come and… Lieutenant?” The room was bustling with activity. Dozens of operators were quickly typing on keyboards in front of even more monitors. Tiny figures dashed across the screen, running from darker looking figures behind them. Every once in a while, tiny flashes of light would appear on the screen, followed by a single dark dot which would cease to move. “Security cameras. They’re on the corners of every building above twenty stories in the city,” said a calm voice behind the fat man. “Lieutenant Daniels, sir, we’ve analyzed the helicopter footage; you know, the tapes recovered by Captain Barnet’s team?” squealed the man. Daniels simply nodded and turned to look downwards to a blue colored table swarmed with papers. “Sir?” “What is it?” “You should really take a look at it. It would seem that there’s a third party involved in this. Some type of organization claiming to be called ‘Operation Pandora.’” “Alright,” he pushed a headset off his head to rest on his shoulders. “Captain, take charge for a moment.” Lieutenant Daniels followed the large man out of the room. They walked down the cold corridor, stopping in front of a room labeled “Audio-Visual Dept., 23rd Floor.” The portly man looked up at the Lieutenant, who looked expectedly at the wooden door. Daniels returned the stare. “What is it?” “Sir… it’s just the scope of this. I haven’t watched the entire tape yet,” he opened the door, revealing an armed officer standing at attention in front of a projector and screen. Two blackened chairs sat unoccupied in front of the blank screen. “But he said that the Operation is enormous. They’ve released something in major cities all over the world.” Lieutenant Daniels folded his arms and grumbled, “Who?” “The man on the tape sir, well, whatever organization he’s working for. Watch.” A black tape slid into the machine, and the blank screen flickered to life. A man in a red uniform sat alone in a small room. His head was bent over slightly in order to inspect the long weapon which lay in his arms. “Hello,” he began slowly. “My name to you will be Jack, codename Red Fourteen. I am, in part, responsible for over seven-thousand deaths across the world until the date of this recording. By the time you see this, I will have the blood of millions on my hands.” He paused. Daniels sat back uneasily as he watched the tape continue to roll. Red Fourteen raised his head to the camera, and began to speak again. “It began in 1988. I was first contacted via mail to take part in a clinical study…” “Officer,” began Lieutenant Daniels, “please stand guard outside the room. Let me know if anything urgent needs my attention.” *** Izzy moved decisively and violently. Three bodies slumped to the floor in the hallway at once as she positioned herself in front of a large, white office door. Smoking holes rose from the corpses as Izzy lowered her weapon. Poole had been providing cover fire from somewhere on the top floor of this building, and she had checked all the other offices. This was the last one. The door was slightly ajar, a single pair of bloody handprints on the outside. One of the heaps of flesh moaned, only to be silenced by a burst of fire. Izzy tore out her now empty magazine and looked for another one. Only seven left. I have to make it last until I can get back to the lines, she thought to herself. She slapped one in. A dull static thud could be heard inside the office. Izzy called into the room, “Poole? Are you still in here?” From somewhere inside, she swore that she heard a faint snicker. Her skin tingled at the whisper of the noise. “Just nerves,” she muttered to herself. “Get in and find Poole.” She kicked in the door, leaving a bloody boot print on the white wood. Her training kicked in as she shouted “Clear up!” before remembering that she was alone. No support. Each step on the dense carpet let a small lake of blood well up briefly before sinking back into the fibers. Bodies lay left and right, four all told. One lay face down near a window to the far corner of the room. A thin sniper rifle leaned on the opened sill just above the body, a cool breeze blowing the cloth back strap gently. The metal strap connector clicked against the glint-free metal. Smoke trails rose in a thin forest above a small pile of spent shells. Izzy knelt down slowly, placing her weapon next to the rifle, being careful that the dark weapon would not make a sound. The body did not have a Kevlar vest on, but it was wearing a police special operations uniform. “Poole always took his vest off when he used his sniper rifle,” Izzy whispered to herself. The heavier fighting had moved away from the bridges by now. While the creatures still flooded across the bridges, the sounds of echoing gunshots and screams seemed to have moved a block or two down. The young officer stood up for a moment, gazing out the window. The dull fear of discovering that another one of her comrades had fallen was too much to bear. From the window, she could see the creatures still filling the streets like a flood rising. The water was far past her building now. She should have to survive somehow. Suddenly, a bullet crashed into an adjacent building, shattering the glass. Izzy blinked and looked down at the body. She knelt down once again, her hand reaching out to turn the figure over. Dead eyes met hers as she withdrew her hand with a hard breath. It was not Poole. A thin bullet hole marked the only particularly interesting mark. A circular burn surrounded the wound; someone had fired this round at close range. Izzy sat down on the bloodstained carpet, her left hand sweeping over her mouth to cover her sobs. So many. She took off her helmet and swept back her sweat and blood soaked hair as a thin tear raced down her cheek. So many. Her mouth moved into a confident grimace as the tear fell from her chin. “I’ve got to find Poole,” she said. The strap on the rifle continued to echo throughout the desolate room. A cool night began to settle as light faded from the streets of West Town, sunlight slowly running away from the room. The light traced briefly over a figure standing in a closet at the far end of the room. A hammer clicked back and chambered a bullet as Izzy reached to pick up her MP-5. There was something terrifying in the cold voice that spoke, “Don’t run. I’ve been hunting you long enough.” To be continued… ***

Posted by: Zombie Assassin March 14, 2007 03:59 am

Hmm... This story looks good

Posted by: Tanker March 14, 2007 10:21 pm

this is by far the best story ive read so far though that last installment was too short for me... your writings are good but they arent the short sprint kind... they are only good if you write long enough for us to get into it... or at least i think so

Posted by: Zombie Assassin March 15, 2007 02:52 am

You should see a plague most deadly.

Posted by: Tanker March 15, 2007 02:55 am

im not really into RPGs i dont get them

Posted by: Zombie Assassin March 15, 2007 04:38 am

LOL THAT RPG ROCKS!

Posted by: Tanker March 15, 2007 04:37 pm

ok we are getting off topic the point is this is the best story ive read so far but i thought that last installment was too short. thats all i got to say

Posted by: Zombie Assassin March 16, 2007 12:38 am

PLAGUE MOST DEADLY!

Posted by: Tanker March 16, 2007 01:10 am

ive heard it is excellent but im not going to go talking about it here in the middle of jest3r's story... if you wanna discuss this ill be more then happy to somewhere else.

Posted by: Zombie Assassin March 16, 2007 01:12 am

k. J3ster, good story.

Posted by: Jest3r March 27, 2007 04:04 am

Tanker, thank you for your compliments. I will make the next installment longer! Also, thank you, Zombie Assassin for your compliments and discussion. Any other comments?

Posted by: Keyes March 28, 2007 11:06 pm

Sorry, didn't notice this. Good stuff, as usual, J3ster You are, by far, the best writer on this forum And now I'm really intrigued as to what's gonna happen with Izzy! And where the hell did Harper and Poole go? So many questions...

Posted by: GaMeRT1 April 18, 2007 01:40 am

Jester, i love you. Keep them going, its definitly the best story here. Without a doubt.

Posted by: Tanker April 18, 2007 01:50 am

wow "I love you?" thats very forward... lol

Posted by: GaMeRT1 April 18, 2007 02:19 am

lol, well me and jester, i go back to telling him i love his story back when he started writing it lol

Posted by: Jest3r April 23, 2007 04:46 am

Keyes, I appreciate your continued support! You will discover what will happen with the characters soon. Keep reading! To GaMeRT1- Hah! Thank you for the comments. It is always good to hear some feedback. Any more comments, questions, concerns? I will try to post the next installment soon.

Posted by: Tanker April 24, 2007 01:09 am

yay soon!

Posted by: Security Corporate April 24, 2007 03:02 am

QUOTE (GaMeRT1 @ April 17, 2007 05:40 pm) Jester, i love you. Aww, how romantic! *tear* Hehe, anyways, you better wrote more of the story bitch.

Posted by: GaMeRT1 April 24, 2007 04:38 am

haha, romantic is an understatement. Yesterday, i sent him 12 roses and a panda bear in the mail.

Posted by: Jest3r November 17, 2007 06:53 pm

RECAP: Lieutenant Daniels is watching the tape sent to him by defectors from a mysterious group named “Operation Pandora.” Meanwhile, Harper has retreated through the broken city, trying to save as many civilians lives as he can, as long as his own. His dash left Izzy to try and find Poole, who was sniping to cover their retreat. She found his sniper’s nest, only to realize Poole has left. But unfortunately for her, her past has caught up with her as the sun sets over West Town… The young officer froze in fear. The voice triggered a flurry of memories, her history with a clandestine private chemical research company as security personnel, her eventual escape… “Stand up and kick your MP-5 over to me,” came the cold voice again. Izzy stood up slowly to face her assailant, kicking her firearm to his feet. Her eyes lay focused on his pistol. “Two years, Elizabeth. Did you really think we weren’t tracking you?” Izzy shuddered. She knew this day would eventually come. “I just wanted to get out, I didn’t report the opera- ” “We’ve reviewed all of our security tapes from the compound in Denver. We know that you were responsible for setting the damn gas loose in our barracks. Tricky girl, you let it loose inside the vents so we wouldn’t notice you on the cameras at first,” he laughed coldly before his face contorted into a gaze of rage, “our own damned barracks,” the man said, raising the pistol higher to level her head in his sights. He wore the same grey, black, white and red uniform that Izzy thought she caught a glimpse of before Barnet was killed. “All I did was release a canister. Those damn things you kept in the holding cells couldn’t resist the gas. Fitting to see the creatures feed on the hands that fed them, don’t you think? You managed to salvage a bulk of the Operation anyways.” “Don’t you dare say that, those men and women were your friends,” he hissed, spit flying out of his mouth. “You were all madmen, if I had known what you were planning to do, I never would’ve entered the training program in the first place. It was just a clinical study at first, but you turned it into a nightmare, you,” she took a step forward, “you were planning to annihilate everyone.” “What a beautiful plan it was. And now saboteurs like you are still loose in Red Command and in our operators. We sent two of our agents to kill two S.W.A.T. teams heading into the Northern Precincts, both happened to fail their missions,” Izzy smirked at this. The man continued after seeing the smile, “Funny eh? We were hoping to kill you, but apparently you’ve got more than one friend out there. Our operator on the ground only killed your captain, letting you and your team escape with critical information, and our other agent sent to kill the other team just happened to completely lose his objective,” the man began to pace slowly, waving his gun for emphasis, “we can’t identify who they are, because one of you scumbag defectors is working in Red Command. Now we don’t know who’s operating where and who did what on the ground.” “You expect me to know any of their names? Or their locations? Where’s Poole, let’s start with that and then-” “Oh, Poole?” The man chuckled. “Is that his name? He’s down one floor, covering the emergency stairs. We’ve become best buddies, I’m covering these stairs here. Together, we make a hell of a team,” he smiled, posing with his pistol. “Of course, he’ll come up here any moment to check on me, caring individual that he is,” he aimed his pistol once more at Izzy. “So you’re going to tell me who are the individuals sabotaging our operation, or I’m going to mistake your buddy for one of those things and defend myself. Oh, goody, I love a game! Scream and I’ll kill both of you anyways,” he chuckled. “You’re insane,” said Izzy, her eyes began darting around the room. The sniper rifle was still at her feet. She just needed a moment’s distraction. She knew the man, she thought she remembered his name to be ‘Will’ or ‘Dill’ or something, would get her to talk back at his headquarters at Red Command. Izzy knew what terrible things these people were capable of. “What fun what fun,” said Will or Dill. Izzy did not notice his eyes twitch as he heard footsteps approaching the room, nor did she hear the steps. He can’t know about the saboteurs still inside the operation, she thought to herself. Red Fourteen, Red Nine must’ve been the ones Red Seven sent to fail their missions. The three operators had helped her escape the compound so many years ago. Those had to be the ones tearing apart Operation Pandora from the inside. Her mind was racing, not noticing for a moment that a new figure was staring at her. She did not notice Poole appear in the doorframe of the office. Poole looked once at the man holding the gun at Izzy, then looked at his fellow officer. She slowly brought her head up, meeting his gaze. Her eyes widened as she saw his hands start to move. Everything seemed to be slowed down so she could witness the torturous scene. Poole reached for his sidearm as the man turned his pistol to be trained on him and squeezed off two shots. He felt a burning sensation rush into the right side of his neck as a bullet tore through muscle and skin. Poole’s legs weakened and he crumpled to the ground, his right hand trying to stop the flow of blood from his neck. Blood stained the white doorframe with a sickening splash. Izzy screamed “No! Poole!” as she kicked the sniper rifle at her feet into her arms and took aim at the murderer’s chest. The man trained his sights on Izzy again in time to see her finger squeeze the trigger of the rifle. The bullet ripped into his chest, his body armor doing nothing to halt the bullet at the close range. His back slammed against the wall, bone splinters trickling out of this chest along with torrents of blood. Izzy could do nothing but watch as he raised his pistol and pulled the trigger until the slide locked back and nothing but smoke streamed out of the silver barrel. He let a heavy gasp escape, his mouth moving in surprise, trying to form words for which he had no strength. He tried to suck in air, but his shredded lungs could no longer receive the sustenance. His right hand carried the gun to rest on his lap as his head slumped forward from where it rested on the wall. A thin trickle of blood poured from his mouth to the slide of the gun. Izzy stumbled backward and sat down against the wall, dropping the rifle. She looked down at her vest to see seven holes, all staining it a deep red. A thin trickle of blood escaped her lips as she called to her friend, “Poole, hey…” she coughed, “I’m so s-sorry.” Each word opened a new wound in her psyche. Poole lay writhing on the ground, rolling around in anguish as he tried to stop the bleeding with both hands. He leaned up long enough let his confused eyes meet with Izzy’s sorrow before he fell back on the carpeted office floor again, gurgling and coughing up blood where words should have been. “Please don’t- don’t go, I came…” she winced as she tried to see if any of the bullets had gone through her back as well, “to get you out.” His commotion slowed down. Poole coughed a surge of blood through his shattered throat and let his eyes stare with a penetrating hatred and confusion at the blood soaked doorframe. He gave one final violent shake and sputtered another fountain of blood, allowing his pain to end. His body lay in its final position, an angry contortion of dead flesh and bone. A tear ran down Izzy’s cheek. “Poole,” she forcefully closed her eyes as tears burst forth. She turned her head to look out the window. The sun was only a whisper behind buildings now, a faint glimmer of pink and orange dancing off the windows of adjacent buildings. The beautiful colors slowly faded away as the sun sunk below the horizon. The darkness began to creep over her as she felt a cold wind combating the warmth of her blood. Her grief stained eyes gazed sadly across the three bridges and the buildings as the screams and gunshots still rang throughout the fabric of the city. “I’m sorry,” her voice began to fade into a whisper, “I’m so sorry…” ***

Posted by: SDWBOSS November 17, 2007 07:43 pm

Very nice keep writing.

Posted by: Tanker November 18, 2007 02:43 am

wow i thought you had died or abandoned us or something... well i guess you cant rush greatness... take all the time you need. anyway this is great, i love it, keep writing.

Posted by: iliketoblowzombieheadsoff November 18, 2007 03:19 am

That was... nice. Worth reading, now I know why you guys don't read mine... pretty bad quality. Oh well. Good job j3ster!

Posted by: SDWBOSS November 18, 2007 12:40 pm

QUOTE (iliketoblowzombieheadsoff @ November 18, 2007 03:19 am) Worth reading, now I know why you guys don't read mine... pretty bad quality. Is that why no-one reads mine?

Posted by: Jest3r November 18, 2007 06:10 pm

To SDWBOSS- Thank you for your compliment. Please continue to read and post feedback as you see fit! To Tanker- Ah, yes it was quite some time. For a while I did consider walking away, but I kept getting new ideas, so here I am! Thank you for reading. To iliketoblowzombieheadsoff- Thanks! As for your story, you just have to take more time. See the story in your head like a show, then write down what you see, slowly and carefully, and be sure to edit! Keep writing. Thank you all for your feedback. Please, if you haven't already, read the latest installment and tell me what you think. I am always open to comments and criticism!

Posted by: Tanker November 18, 2007 09:33 pm

QUOTE (SDWBOSS @ November 18, 2007 12:40 pm) QUOTE (iliketoblowzombieheadsoff @ November 18, 2007 03:19 am) Worth reading, now I know why you guys don't read mine... pretty bad quality. Is that why no-one reads mine? its not that its bad quality people are just lazy...

Posted by: iliketoblowzombieheadsoff November 18, 2007 10:02 pm

QUOTE (Jest3r @ November 18, 2007 10:10 am) To iliketoblowzombieheadsoff- Thanks! As for your story, you just have to take more time. See the story in your head like a show, then write down what you see, slowly and carefully, and be sure to edit! Keep writing. No problem!!!!! Thank you for the advice... it's more clear to me now. Usually I don't edit.... I get too lazy. But, to make my stories as good as yours, I sure will!!! Thanks once again, and keep writing your amazing stories!

Posted by: Jest3r November 20, 2007 06:16 am

To iliketoblowzombieheadsoff- Any time. I'm eager to check out your stories more, so keep writing! To the readers- Please offer any feedback you may have, comments or criticism. I am open to all, and will respond to all. The feedback is why I enjoy writing here so much, the compliments encourage me to write more, and any questions allow me to analyze my story more. Criticism and suggestions allow me to think about my style and make changes accordingly! With heavy editing, I do intend to stretch this story out longer until a conclusion, so please, help me by asking questions, commenting, or critiquing the story so far. Thank you all for your support so far, and please keep reading! -Jest

Posted by: Tanker November 20, 2007 06:36 am

ok um... well i loved that little twist thing with izzy. stuff like that keeps us guessing. um... nothing really to complain about. so far this is the only story i can really keep up with so i have nothing bad to say

Posted by: SDWBOSS November 20, 2007 08:55 pm

In other words, J3ster, keep it coming! We'll gobble it down just as fast as you can post it.

Posted by: Jest3r January 27, 2008 04:03 am

RECAP: Izzy and Poole lay dead in a lonely, blood-stained room. The face of Poole finds a permanent mask of confusion and bloody agony. The haunting past of Izzy sits before her, a thin trickle of blood running from its mouth onto the slide of a sliver weapon, the beautiful luster blotted out by the red water of tragedy. A black night grasps West Town as if to strangle all hope from its metallic confines, masking the flight of two rogue Pandora operators. A radio signal traverses through the dark air, passing through gunfire and flesh to reach two helmet radios dashing down a set of interior stairs. Their footsteps pound each step, sweat pours from their brows. They stop at a floor labeled with aging red paint as the seventeenth floor. The signal crackles into their ears… “Red Fourteen and Red Nine, this is Red Dispatch Team, cease your movement. We know who you are.” The pair sat panting for a moment under the staircase, sheltered from the higher flights, their legs burning with pain from their descent from the roof of the seventy story building. “Jack,” said Red Nine. “Or, Red Fourteen if you prefer. I think Red Command,” he paused as he heard the click of a door above them. Sarcasm leapt into his words with grim resolve as he continued, “found out we don’t like them very much.” Jack grinned slowly. “Never were big fans of apocalyptic conspiracies, were we?” Red Nine nodded, stifling his chuckles. He glanced up the stairwell, his sidearm pointed straight up. His head quickly darted back as he whispered, “Ready for this?” “Ok, go!” The pair darted from underneath the stairs, each firing three shots upward. They returned to cover. Jack slid the magazine out of his pistol, counting the rounds before he pushed it back into the weapon. “Four left in this mag. You?” A rushing sound accompanied his inquiry, the sound of plummeting figures. The two tumbling objects displaced air in front of them, pushing a brief reprieve of cold air against the faces of the rogue Pandora operators. Red Nine removed his magazine and cursed softly. Two bodies fell past them, each revealing a thin flow of blood to tear out of three holes ripped neatly in their respective sternums. Without giving a glance to the unfortunate and gravity-gripped assassins, Red Nine pushed another magazine into his silver handgun. He smiled wearily as he said, “Remind me to thank Red Seven for giving us extra ammunition on our way out from Red Command.” Jack began to walk down the next flight of stairs, his legs screaming in fatigue with every step. He motioned for Red Nine to follow. “Do you think he knew we were getting hit today?” “Of course. He knew they had to be on to him too, or else he would’ve told us directly.” Red Nine continued to follow his fellow saboteur, his thoughts slowly spinning the events of the past day. “I never thanked you for what you did on the roof today, it-” Jack interrupted him with a quick turn of his head to look at his partner. “I wouldn’t expect you to, we’ve been running and crawling down these damn stairs since it was light out,” he chuckled. “Not much time for apologies when we’re ducking from sniper fire when we leave the stairs and shooting anyone they send from the roof. You’d think they’d stick with their mission but no,” he let the word drawl from his lips for a second. “They spend their time hunting two operatives because they’re pissed off. And you’d think…” Red Nine rolled his eyes as he let Jack rant for a moment. He finally had enough and simply stated, “Well, thanks anyway. I guess you’re not such a piss-poor shot after all.” Jack laughed. “Thank you kindly. Maybe next time you can save my ass from a sniper. Maybe- what the hell was that?” Both stopped their descent. A sound travelled from a floor below, a thin wheeze following by a cough. Jack raised his pistol and allowed his instinct to flow through his muscles. Red Nine put his back against that of Jack’s. He tapped his helmet to let Jack know he was ready. The pair carefully continued to walk downwards, back to back, weapons prepared for an attack from any direction. The wheeze down a flight of stairs turned into a pant around the next corner. Jack leapt forward and swept his arms right, tensing his finger to pull the trigger back. The bloody figure was on its back, moving slowly up the stairs. It turned its eyes to gaze at Jack. Jack and Red Nine stopped. Red Nine dared not look away from his direction in the event of an ambush. “What is it, Jack? Who the hell is that?” “Identify yourself,” Jack said with a cool flick of the tongue, his mind ready to deal a swift and violent end. No response. The man sputtered a burst of blood. Jack calmly raised his pistol to ensure he would destroy the brain of the man with the bullet. “Identify yourself,” his eyes let a glimmer of sadness escape as he whispered, “please…” The figure raised a palm to halt his demise. The man, one hand held high and the other pressed tightly against a bandage on the side of his stomach. With a deep gasp, he said, “My name…” he took another deep breath, “is Davis.”

Posted by: [Eternal]Sh@rpShooter January 28, 2008 04:11 pm

ur story very nice like land of dead but keep up the good work i am new member

Posted by: Tanker February 15, 2008 05:08 am

excellence as always... always worth reading when your writing

Posted by: Jest3r February 16, 2008 03:31 am

To Sharp- Thank you for your compliments, and welcome to the community! Please keep reading and offering your feedback. Feedback is what really motivates all of us here. To Tanker- Your continued support has really encouraged me to keep writing. I intend the next installment to be longer, and more filling- outlining the fates of several team members and of West Town as a whole. I hope you'll enjoy it. Any more comments, criticisms, feedback? All forms of feedback are welcome. Keep reading!

Posted by: SDWBOSS February 16, 2008 06:29 pm

QUOTE (Jest3r @ February 16, 2008 03:31 am) Any more comments, criticisms, feedback? All forms of feedback are welcome. *Does morris dance* There you go, keep writing

Posted by: Jest3r February 17, 2008 12:53 am

To SDWBOSS- Thanks for the dance! I certainly will keep writing. Thank you all for your support, I will try to post the next installment as soon as I can! Keep reading and writing.

Posted by: Jest3r March 22, 2008 09:11 pm

NOTE: I am posting this story on the ZP forums as well to gain more attention. I am posting it, its not an impostor! If you see the story posted anywhere but on the BB or ZP forums, please notify my via post in either forum. Thank you!

Posted by: Zombie Assassin March 24, 2008 01:25 am

I still love this story... and Jester, you make great storys. You should make novels.

Posted by: Jest3r April 14, 2008 07:18 pm

To Zombie Assassin- I appreciate the compliment! I will certainly keep writing, and possibly start some new stories. I feel I may take a short break from this story and start writing others, I'll be sure to post some soon! Keep reading! -Jest3r

Posted by: Neal Ovdensson April 15, 2008 01:38 pm

That was pretty good man.