The barricades were about to fall, and when that happens, well be swarmed and death would overcome us. The others and I were not ready for that though, as we were still pumping the bodies full of lead. The person in the guard tower with the PKM was still firing wildly at the gate, watching zombies fall from the amount of piercing going through their heads.

We have to get out of here! One of the men said next to me, with his IMBEL MD-2 assault rifle. He stopped firing and the click-click-click sound of his weapon being dry was stifled with all the gunfire going off around us. This town was overrun with the population of probably the whole island.

To where?! All the exits are flooded with the infected! I screamed at him, grabbing his collar and shaking it with frustration. I knew damn well that we couldnt win this battle with pussies like this guy. We have a job to do! You accepted the offer, now do what youve been trained for!

Upon that note, I lifted up my SIG 552 Commando and gazed down the scope to align my shot. Some helpless zombies that were trapped behind the fence finally realized that climbing the metal enclosure was more than possible. Some of the men then went from semi-auto to full-auto after seeing such a display of rational thinking from the infected. Some of the infected followed suite, while others were still banging and clanging like there was no tomorrow. I pulled the trigger of my assault rile and felt the sensational kickback and the sound of my gun shot being mixed in with the chorus of everyone elses gunfire. My shot blew off part of an infected mans head, spewing brain matter and blood on the others near him, as he dropped from the 18ft fencing. I fired another shot, then another, then another; all my shots were connecting with the infected, but only a couple were head shots.

It soon dawned on me that whenever one zombie died, two more would come running at the fencing from discovering that there was fresh meat inside this metal thing! I then switched my semi-auto gun, to full-auto and let the bullets fly. It was in a matter of a couple seconds that one of my clips went dry and I need to change out for another. My weapon burned through ammunition like dry leaves in a campfire.

One of the zombies at the top of the fencing was shot in the torso from a larger caliber weapon, bringing him down, and part of the fencing that it grasped on to tightly; that part of the fence was brought down to a measly 12 feet! Then others started to climb at the ripped part of the fence and started to slowly but surely pour inside this helpless outpost.

Some of the infected ran towards a couple mercenaries standing a little too close to the fence and ripped their throats out with their teeth, blood dripping from their chins. Their jaws went down for another bite on other limbs while the mercenaries tried to scream, but their severed throat wouldn't allow them.

Shit! I yelled, as others put in their swearing and profanity. We all finally came to realize that this mission had a different purpose than what the commander informed us; his mission was about to succeed. We were going to die.

========================

Just a teaser for my story comming up soon. It takes place on an island which is quarantined from the government as they don't want any people who may have the virus to escape from there - they just think it is only happening at this island. I believe this story should turn out pretty well, as I posted it at another forums; people liked it

Well, anyways, stay tuned!

Prelogue
======
It has been six months since the plague has swept through the streets of Medan (a small island with largely populated cities) and into the bloodstream of the citizens living there. Once the virus entered the body, the host dropped dead without much of a sign. Then it was only a matter of minutes before they got back up and chased down anyone with blood and flesh; thats right, chased, not stumbled like any other conforming zombie. The media was on this island in a heartbeat when they first heard of this situation. The media only mentioned of cannibalistic attacks on others, but either way, people were getting curious around the world. It did not take much longer when they finally realized that it wasnt a coincidence that others seemed to want a bite to eat from peoples throats. Thats when the smartness of Washington decided that Military action was needed: they sent blackhawks and littlebirds in to exterminate this plague and rescue any survivors. Well, the military did exterminate minor populations of the cities. Only thing was they were burning through ammunition and the cost of weapons, ammunition, and gas for the vehicles that they soon realized that the cost-and-worth rate was low, rendering their mission useless. After all, what were they going to get out of all this besides dead soldiers?

So, the military packed their bags and headed on home, leaving the dead to roam the streets and leaving some of their own troops to fend for themselves. The troops stranded on the island did not have much of a choice but to search for shelter and find other survivors that could maintain their own existence. Some succeeded, othersdidnt. The cities that had some strategic elements were captured and were then used as civilian compounds and encampments that more or less had safety. One such camp was named Vitaville; vita was Italian for life, which was an understatement to say the least. Population of survivors is around 450+, which is enough, as we dont have much ground to cover. That is where I, John Cattivo, live and stay; age 24 - but who is counting anymore? - short black hair with sideburns that ran down to lower-lip level. Dark brown eyes, average build, average weight, and average height. A few others and I are scouts, mercenaries, or whatever else you can think of. We get orders from the higher-ups - like food raids on the outer boundaries where the infected dwell, or maybe to communicate with the other camp sites - and transact upon em. We sometimes get casualties, and we rarely come across a survivor. Most of us lost our sanity as the months went by; some even laugh at the face of death and cackle when they get to pump bullet after bullet into a body of the infected.

But that was then, and this is now; life is short so you dont dwell on the past and you live the present to its fullest.

We were located in an almost perfect location, with only three ways in: The ocean, one bridge that is raised up, and one road, that is barricaded with fencing, boards, stones, and other objects. Our defense was strong, enough ammo for a few more weeks, and enough weapons for the people that are able to resist the infected that dared to near our borders. Ten or so of the infected ran towards our barricade before being torn apart from gunfire on an average day, and sometimes we only get three or four running stupidly towards death. We were relatively safe

CHAPTER 1: BAD NEWS GALORE
========

The sun was rising slowly over the horizon, lighting up the cities on the island of Medan. As usual, the sky was clear, hot and very humid. The birds were chirping softly and diving underwater in the ocean to catch an unsuspecting fish off-guard. I hated all of it. I hated the heat, as wearing the thicker version Kevlar was unbearable as was wearing my long leather jacket. I sighed as I got up from my cozy bed and looked out the window. I was up on the third floor of the Come on Inn Hotel and had a perfect view of the bridge and the deserted cities on the other part of the island. I took off my wife beater and slipped on a small white T-shirt, blue jeans, and some white running shoes. I looked around my room and took in how dull this place was. I wonder to myself every morning why I do it; why I risk my life for the others on this island. Our resources cannot last forever and leaving would be futile

God damn it. Why couldnt a celebrity be herethen the military would come flying in here and rescue us.

The room had boring brown walls, green ceiling, with matching green carpeting. The room needed to be vacuumed and cleaned of all the stains. The window was small, so when the lighting on the island stopped working a few months back, the morning was sometimes like the night: hard to see. I grabbed me belt that held my two handgun holsters, grenade pouches and ammo pouches and wrapped it around my waist and clipped it on. I started to make my way slowly, and sleepily, towards the door, hearing the crunch of my footsteps on the hard carpet. The door opened easily and swung open freely. I closed the door behind me and looked around, noticing that people were asleep. Personally, I dont blame them; I wouldnt want to go out in daylight with all the hungry cannibals outside, waiting to grab my arms and pull it towards their jaws of fate.

Another hotel door to my right opened slowly and a tall, African-American walked out with his black wife beater on, blue jeans, and black shoes. I nodded towards him and he exchanged it with a nod as well. The black man grabbed his crotch lightly and shook it, as if he had a bad case of crabs.

Mike Jones, I called out softly to him smirking. That was not his real name, but it was a name of horrible rapper. He frowned and shook his head slowly in disappointment. A smile then slowly formed on his face as he gave me the finger and made his way slowly towards me.

Sowhats on da agenda for tday? Mike Jones asked quietly, not wanting to wake up anyone else in the hotel. I shrugged and pointed towards the stairs. He nodded understanding that I wanted to talk to him, as we walked casually approaching the stairway. I opened the door and let him go first, before I looked behind me, making sure that no one was following us. I then closed the door behind us and turned towards Mike Jones.

Mike, our defenses are slowly declining. We lost contact with Outpost North, I said. I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and index finger before continuing. We dont even know how we lost contact. They had better defense than ours! I bellowed. Mike stared at me blankly, not really following.

When did we lose contact?
Last night, I responded. From what a few witnesses said, it seems that the infected somehow broke through two of their barricades and just overran em. You and I both know that the infected couldnt comprehend how to use teamwork, so something must have happened inside the base. My guess is someone was infected inside and people tried to escape and resulting inthe infected running inside.

CHAPTER 1: BAD NEWS GALORE (cont)
========

Mike and I both knew that it did not add up though. How could someone get inside and then get infected? The gate guards always check to see if anyone in the raiding group is infected or bittenEither way, almost everyone there died mysteriously.

Well, Mike, I was saying, changing the subject. Patricia has some good news for us. Mike cocked an eyebrow with a smile starting to form. Patricia was our citys weapon expert; she came with the troops that landed here. She fixed up our guns and modified them. And upon that note, Mike and I exited the building to feel the rays of the sun beating down on us. Mike Jones seemed to love it, as he was native to this land, but I came here as a tourist from Nebraska; heat doesnt come down as often and as hot.

There were a couple of people walking the streets, not even bothering using the sidewalks. Cars for regular civilians were illegal, as gas needs to be reserved for the raids and emergency use - in case of being overrun. They were dressed like hobos and most likely smelled like them as well. The mall was on a different part of the island, so clothes were not much of an essential. As long as it was comfortable and thin, it was satisfactory. Mike Jones held his hand on his forehead and shielded his eyes from the sun. He pointed towards a few people that came out of a building dressed in urban fatigue with matching helmet and automatic weapons that also had camouflage. They jogged over towards us with expressionless faces; they looked to be stone cold killers. Mike Jones flashed them a smile, knowing who these people were: these were soldiers that were sent here in response to the overwhelming reports of the undeadpoor chaps. Personally, I thought these guys had it worse. While the civilians ran and hid, these people held their ground and looked for survivors. Some of them probably held their own dying friends in their arms before putting their gun in the heads of their friends.

John, their team leader said. Mike Jones. You are wanted in the armory labs immediately by Commander Washington. Whatever your original intentions were, theyve been cancelled. I cocked an eyebrow at them curiously but shrugged without much of an interest. As much as I wanted to feel sorry for these guys, they were always usually pricks to the people that were not in the same squadron as them, or in the Military for the matter. The soldiers glared at us for a few more seconds before running towards the bridge, while a couple others made their way patrolling the streets. They do their job well, can be nice fellas off duty, but are too excessively focused on their jobs sometimes. I sighed slightly ran a hand through my hair and looked at Mike Jones and asked what the deal is.

We already know we have a raiding mission in store for us, I mumbled in anger.
Meh, need a straw?
Huh?
Suck it up pussy, Mike Jones smiled. He was one of the folks that became deranged. I have never seen this guy get mad, sad, or distressed in any situation. Hell, he went to an infected and knocked the thing to the ground. Mike held its head down to the ground; it was trying desperately to get out of this black mans grip. Mike took out his knife and started to carve out the things teeth, oblivious to the fact that it could bite him and he could turn into one of those things. Once all of its teeth were carved out, he let the thing nibble on his hand before stabbing it in its eye, showering Mikes clothes with blood and gore.

Hey, you OK?
Wha-ohyeah, I said, getting back to reality and their new waypoint on track. We slowly came to a medium sized building that had a flat roof and a retractable ladder on the side of the building for people to climb up and seek safety on top. Ladder is pointless in my mind, as either way, if this encampment is overrun, no roof access is going to save you. We came up to the buildings steel doors which was as thick enough to block the AK47s 7.62x39mm, so no infected hands can get through that. A small slit in the door at eye level opened up, showing a mans eyes.

Ah, the man said, over the construction of vehicles and such inside. You two can come in. With that, the doors slide sideways to allow Mike Jones and myself to walk inside and speak with whomever. The place was not very big, but it was not small by any means. The construction of our raiding vehicles was in progress, and upgrading as wellas if our vehicles werent good enough. My thoughts were disintegrated as the Commander walked up to us both with an expression that sent the chills down my spine; his usual dispiriting expressionless face. He wore his black suit, black tie, and had his black hair combed back - made it look like his scalp is being pulled off. His pupils were black as night.

Gentlemen. As Im sure you have heard the news at Outpost North, it seems our friends that were part of the Rescue Team forgot He started before taking a deep sigh and bit his lower lip in aggravation. They forgot to bring in their weapons expert, and not to mention our trades.

I stared at him with a blank expression that Im sure he could even notice. I knew something wasnt right about that. The Rescue Team is more than capable to remember Outpost Norths only weapons expert. Not to mention our essential trades!

The commander smiled at me understanding my thoughts. Even the black guy must know somethings up, no matter how insane he is.

Well, as usual, your reward will be more rations and of course a nicer place to stay for one whole day. But since this is aspecial assignment, the Commander was saying, an evil grin forming on his face. You get a uniquelydifferent prize than usual.
Oh, and whats that? I asked in a smart-ass tone.
Youll just have to wait and see now wont you? The commander said with his evil grin.

Mike Jones and I were lead outside by a few soldiers and were shown to another building that was straight across from the armory labs. We both knew it was the weapon storage, but of course we were reminded by a military personnel. We blew him off, walked up to the steel doors and opened them with ease. Once inside, I noticed that there were a few others inside, all getting prepared for a mission. I rolled my eyes and walked up to the front desk, which was all shiny today. I had to admit the brown oak looked expensive and nice.

Whatcha want? the person at the desk asked in an annoyed manner. I was about ready to explode and pummel his ass to the ground; no one talks to me like that.
MY usual equipment, I said through gritted teeth, as I slapped down my Guns for Hire card - which is given to you if you are part of the raiding missions or a military individual. He looked at it and slid the card toward him. He picked it up and looked at it for a couple of seconds, than back at me. He gave me back the card and went in the back of the large sized booth towards a door that read Storage. It was only a matter of seconds before he came back out with my gear, weapons, and my light body armor. I grabbed my shit in both of my hands, walked to the lockers, and sat down at a bench.

I grabbed my FN Five-seveN Tactical - 5.7x28mm ammo with 20 round magazine capacity - and put it on safety. I looked at it shortly before putting it in my leg holster. I stood up and tucked my shirt in while looking around at a few people that were talking about their stories with the fights they endured. I shook my head and frowned while reaching for my head Kevlar Armor. I slipped it over my head and it fell into place comfortably. I grabbed my SIG 552 Commando - 5.56x45mm ammo with 30 round magazine capacity - and slung it over my shoulder after putting the safety on. Mike Jones got his gear, which consisted of Light Kevlar Armor, Ithaca 37 - 4 Round Capacity Shotgun - and his trusty SigSauer P228 - 9mm Luger ammo with 13 round magazine capacity. We nodded at each other before heading outside towards the Car Park, where our vehicle was waiting.

The Car Park was only a few stores to the left when facing towards the Armory Labs. It was easy to spot, as it had a gigantic parking lot, a small building with a garage next to it that could hold up to eight vehicles. It was a nifty place and the person working there was definitely a hard on to say the least. Al; thoughts about her were soon wiped away when Mike Jones and I got to the Car Park.

What in the Hell are those people doing there? I asked rhetorically, before holding on to my sling that was around my shoulder. There were other mercenaries sitting in the back of a parked camouflaged truck. Mike Jones and I strolled over to the booth and looked behind us at the people that were laughing at a joke or two.
Yes, what can I do for you gentlemen? a young womans voice asked inside the booth. I turned my head towards the sound with a bit of grin on my face as I noticed who it was: Rebecca Sims. She was an attractive southern girl with blonde hair that ran down to her neck and curled at the last strands. She had magnificent blue eyes that matched with her blue work uniform that had the word Mechanic on the back. She was a head shorter than I was, which made her stand at 55 and slim. She stared at me curiously before I realized I was staring at her. May Ihelpyou, sir?

Mike Jones elbowed me in the side and I got back to reality.
========================

Would it be easier if I made this into seperate parts? Feed back optional.

Way better than pretty much everything else on the top page of the forum.

Thanks, but it's definately going to have to wait. I wanted this to have an actual storyline - unlike a lot of the others - so action isn't going to in every post, but it'll be quite descriptive and long.

CHAPTER 1: BAD NEWS GALORE (cont)(2)
========

Oh, uh, sorry, I said, clearing my throat. Can I get my usual-
Well, it aint up to you today, Mr. Cattivo, Rebecca interrupted politely. She smiled before going on. The commander informed me - while you were getting your equipment - that you will be joining under Mr. Sages command. She pointed towards one of the older guys on the truck. He wore a black T-shirt with Medium Kevlar over it. He had long black pants with white shoes, which seemed ridiculous to wear in the time of day. Hes tanned, built, had long brown hair that came down midway of his ear, and brown eyes. He looked to be the same height as me, if not a little taller. After seeing me stare at him with a bit of hate, he smiled and half-waved to me. He got off the truck and mumbled something to his other companions. He started to make his way towards me as I turned around towards the girl in the booth.

You and I both know I work alone - not including him, I said through gritted teeth, pointing at Mike Jones. She looked up from a book she was reading and moved hair out of her eyes.

Well, it wasnt my decision, she said. You and I both know that Im not the person in charge.

I frowned at her as a hand clasped on my left shoulder. I knew who it was instantly but dared to not tell him to get his fucking hands off me.

I bet youre the one the Commander was talking about. Names Sage, he said, as I turned around to face Sage, with his hand stretched out to shake mine. I slowly put my hand out to shake his weakly, as he frowned. Well, anyway, well be taking this here truck as it can easily be defendable, go into rugged areas, and of course hold more passengers.

He was talking to me as if I did not know my cars. I raised my eyebrows as if I was interested and said: Yeah, I know what it is. You dont need to go into your specifics, man. The 2005 Toyota Tacoma Double Cab v6 has great road presence, horrible gas mileage and torque at 3,800 rpmI know.

Sage shrugged as if he did not really care. Well, heres how it is going to work: well start off by going through our barricade like usual, then head towards the red bridge and into the suburbs - less chance of getting swarmed by the infected. Then well take the highway and get off at exit 24, which will take us near the industrial park. All we need to do is head south and we are there; should be a simple mission. Then later we take a bit of R&R and leave with the weapons expert, some of the essentials and so on.
Wait, how are we going to fit all of that in this truck?
Glad you asked, Sage said with a grin. Well also be taking a 2004 Ford
Explorer Sport Trac which will be manned by two people to pick up the essentials. Any last questions? I shook my head no, and looked back to Mike Jones and he seemed fine. All he wanted to do was blow shit up Alright then. Load up!

It finally hit me that all these guys dressed like Sage, which was unusual for us mercenaries, but maybe it shows theyre disciplined. I guess Ive been so busy being pissed off about Sage that I never really took into account that they did. Either way
Sage got in the passenger seat of the Tacoma, and one of the others got in the drivers seat. Three other folks got in the back of the camouflaged truck and one of them waved over for me to sit in the back with them, with my legs sticking off of the back of the truck. I nodded, as I climbed on, took off the sling of my weapon to hold it, and turned around to face away from them since talking to them was not in my job description. As if God heard this, another soul jumped on and sat next to me and gave me a good ol hearty smile. I stared at him without making a move and his smile faded slowly. Mike Jones got in the other truck, which was a better idea, as I knew he and I could shoot well; you do not want two of the best shooters in the same car.

Were moving out gentlemen! Sage yelled from his passenger seat in the camo-truck. Just like that, we started to pull out of the parking lot with the other truck ahead of us and towards the barricade. We saw a few more people on the streets, some turning their heads to see an armada roll past them. A few of the mercenaries waved to the commoners and didnt get a single wave back. I do not blame them personally, as the mercs came off as complete dumbness. We came to a rolling stop at the barricade and was greeted by a friendly soldier who talked to the other trucks driver about the movement of the barriers. In a matter of seconds, we were rolling on out of the encampment and into the red zone.

CHAPTER 2: INTO THE DEPTHS OF HELL
========

The vehicles stared to speed up some more, and we were flying by trees and were altered to blurs. I had my gun pointing up with my right hand and my other hand hanging on to the truck for dear life. If we came to a screeching stop, Id probably fly out and not walk away from the impact of my face against gravel. We came to a stadium to my left, which was probably able to hold tens-of-thousands of people inside - a place, which was shut innot a pretty sight within. The place had to be set on fire from inside, as there were so many dead bodies that disease could be caught from just walking by it. The trucks started to slow down a bit coming to an intersection which had cars littered all over the place; some of the roads werent even accessible because of the collisions and pileups. Newspapers and trash was scattered all over the roads and sidewalks, some having brown stains of old, dried-up blood smeared over some of the objects. It was as if a tornado blew on through this part of the city and just caused Hell in every direction.

Play número dos! one of the passengers in the back of the Tacoma. Somehow, some of the people on the truck knew what it as, as most of the groaned loudly, some throwing in their profanity. As if giving away our location was wanted, a loud song from the 70s blared out from our truck, the Tacoma.

Oh God, youve got be kiddin me, I whispered to myself, as Ted Nugents Cat Scratch Fever started its course. In ways the song fit perfectly, but it was just so annoying! Some of the people laughed a bit before bringing their guns up, as they knew the infected could easily hear the music the was giving our position. I noticed that some of the guns the people had were iffy-ranged sub-machine guns (MP5A4s, Israeli Uzis, and MP-7 PDWs) which didnt seem very appropriate on a fast moving vehicle, but their choice.

We crossed the intersection and took a left towards the bridge, as the trucks were going no more than 25 MPH, trying to dodge through destroyed cars and rubble laying here and there. Going across the bridge was uneventful but that thought came too soon as we came to one of the suburbia areas of the island. Houses were destroyed, burned to the ground, or had boards and shutters set up at every entrance of the households. Memories of Hell flew through my mind as the past of my survival was held hereI knew there were still infected running around these parts. Cars were strewn across the roads, making travel tough and giving the infected good hiding places. We came to a stop sign, and we could either go straight or take a right but did not have much of an option: an overturned semi blocked the path to our right. Either way, going straight would still lead us to the highway. We rolled forwards slowly and went past a couple of brick houses, one that had a huge gaping hole in the side.

Shit, infected, 4o clock! the man yelled beside me, as he brought up his MP5A4. A once Hispanic man was now overcome by the virus that plagued this island. The infected came out of the house through the break in the wall and hearing the music turned its head quickly towards the cause of the vibrations in its ears. IT gave a howling screech that chilled my bones causing me to bring my SIG 552 Commando up and aimed it at the creature. Before I could even fire, the man next to me had his MP5A4 on auto and let loose. Bullets flew out of the barrel of his gun and into the torso, legs, arms, head of the creature, and the wall behind it. As if on cue, other creatures came running out of other surrounding housings and towards the vehicles. The trucks sped up, almost making me fall off the truck and into the pavement. I got my balance again and brought my gun up once more. The infected were behind us, next us, and most likely in front of us. There were five or so infected behind our truck - in front of me - and running in a straight line, making shooting a little easier.

I aimed at one of the closer ones, which had a chunk of its head missing, brown, grayish skin, and casual ripped clothing. I fired three shots into the creature; two went through its ribs and one in its leg, making it fall and roll onto the groundit soon got right back up. I fired more shots at the other creatures, all falling to the ground but none of them dying; aiming was a bitch on a fast moving vehicle. I looked to my right and saw other creatures fall to the ground, some being shot in the head, which spewed brain matter every which way. Everyone on the trucks was firing at the zombies that scourged this island.

Hold on! the driver screamed over the eruption of gunfire. I brought my gun down and held on to the side of the truck for dear life as the truck turned the corner sharply, making the tires screech leaving tracks in its wake. The truck was dodging this way-and-that from destroyed cars and mostly from the infected. Our truck ran over one of the infected that decided to run out right in front of us, surely making a squish of a noise and flattening his bones to paper. The Tacoma felt like it went over a speed bump and resulting in the guy sitting next to me falling out, screaming as he went down. He rolled like a bowling ball and the infected were bowling pins as they fell down over him. The man fired wildly while laying down and into the bodies of the infected near him, but his last stand didnt last long as an infected came from behind him and tackled on top of him, biting into his face. I looked away and didnt bother firing anymore at the infected behind meit was a waste of precious ammo.