Ryan Bishop
Research building east wing
Missouri
February 2017
The weather had been nice that day, but the feeling of uneasiness rose through him. He remembered that clearly.
The black 'inconspicuous' SUV rolled to a halt outside the research buildings East Wing, and two suits climbed out. He couldn't resist the chuckle and shaking of his head at the cliché... Those CIA types, you can spot them a mile away... but why were they here? This wasnt the usual run of the mill office jockey that they woild send to collect reports and hand deliver information, these guys were the muscle.
Ryan shrugged and turned away from the railing he had been leaning on and headed toward the door leading back into the building, the door requested very kindly for him to produce hus biometric and retina verification before it granted him access.
The door closed behind him and he made his way back to his office, but as he closed the office door and turned to face the room, his gaze was met by someone elses.
The man was muscular, a black guy, rounded face but with a prominent square chin, dark eyes that blended into the overshadowed sockets and a buzz cut.
The man remained rooted to the spot and spoke in a very calm and reassured tone.
"Dr. Bishop, I am afraid a situation has arisen and i am to escort you to a secure location immediately. Please grab what you need... and make it quick" the man barked. He was to the point and devoid of any emotion as he spoke, taking a monotonous tone as he gave his piece.
Ryan stared at the man, he wasn't cocky or boisterous and so was unlikely to be a CIA field operative who, from Ryans experience reeked of undeserved arrogance. No, this guy was the real deal, all the way down to his expensive suit.
Ryan edged toward the man.
"Under whose authority may I ask, I mean lets be honest here, you're not CIA" Ryan asked.
The man remained where he was and still kept his calm demeanor.
"Under the authority of the United States of America, Doctor. Now, shall we?" He said as he held an arm up towards the door.
Ryan stopped to assess the situation, this guy was sharp and straight talking, witheld his employers details and had made it this far into the facility without an escort, which could only mean one thing. NSA.
"Whats so important that the NSA has to come and get ME?!" He asked.
The NSA man said nothing and his face remained unchanged at the mention of his employer, yet a slight shuffle was all it took to confirm ryans suspicions. NSA man headed toward the door.
"We havent got time, grab what you need and stay close."
The car was swerving manically for reasons unknown to Ryan, outside there were no threats, just people going about there lives, everyone seemed worried and in a hurry though which was odd, the driver took every turn at high speed and with pinpoint accuracy as he weaved through the vehicles, which like the pedestrians were in a hurry, racing around, the city looked lawless.
Ryan looked at the driver and saw the same calm expression on his face, as if this were a drive to the mall on a nice Saturday afternoon. The expression changed drastically however and the car swung violently to the left and left the road. Inside, Ryan and the three NSA men braced themselves against the roof of the car as it entered a spin that was beyond the skilled hands of the driver, he turned frantically in order to bring the car out of the spin which resulted in the car flipping and rolling before coming to a rest on its side in the middle of strangely empty intersection.
Ryan looked around and saw the driver convulsing in the front seat, Ryan waited for his blurred vision to pass and looked in the drivers mirror to find the cause, a shard of glass from the side window was nestled elegantly in his throat. It was now that Ryan could hear a slight gasp as the man tried desperately to get oxygen into his lungs, the glass had punctured his windpipe. Ryan caught the mans eyes and saw both desperation, and the fight ebbing away in them, he looked away and closed his eyes as he tried not focus on the sound of the dying man sat right in front of him, all he could do for him was hope it wouldn't last much longer. It didn't.
Ryan felt a wet, sticky object land on his head, a second one found his neck, checking his vital signs, he then felt his head being turned to face that of black NSA guy from his office, his arm and hand coated in blood,that explained the wet, sticky object. He pulled a knife from his belt and cut loose the seatbelt holding Ryan in place, grabbing his arm simultaneously so he didn't fall further into the car.
Ryan felt himself going dizzy as he was being pulled from out of the wreckage and into a second set of hands, as soon as his feet touched the ground he passed out.
Ryan was awakened by loud, dull thuds, as he raised his head he could also hear muffled shouts and he could see the flashes of gunfire, at that moment the dull thuds evolved into clear gunshots. The shouts were directed at him to get up, the face hovering over him was that of the black guy, all traces of the cool, relaxed proffesional were gone, as worry and panic took their place.
Ryan stood up and noticed the other NSA guy firing two rounds at a time into an oncoming crowd of what looked like rioting drug abusers. Ryan wore a look of sheer confusion, staring at the horde before him he saw crazed expressions and emptiness in their eyes but worse than that he saw blood, everywhere, some were missing chunks of flesh and even limbs, the noise they were making was ghastly, animalistic snarls and growls, it was deafening. Ryan gasped and retreated backward, he fumbled around his waist for his gun, finding it he raised it and pulled back the top slide, chambering the first round. The horde were no further than 120 metres away, Ryan knew the spec of his gun, he designed it after all, he raised it ready to fire, he lined up his first shot and took it, the round ripped straight through the fleshy thigh and the man stumbled, falling to the ground he simply rolled and got up again rejoining the pressing horde. Ryan gasped again and looked over at the firing NSA man who looked at him, a look of relief spread across his face.
"The head! The head, hit them in the fucking head!...." He screamed over the noise.
Ryan let loose a few rounds aiming for the head as best he could, he had only basic firearms training and so wasn't the greateat marksman. He looked behind him and saw that they were still at the crash site, the SUV lying motionless on its side, he ran over to it and smashed open the back window, inside he saw a jerry can which upon lifting, he discovered was full. He loosened the cap and held it at an angle as he ran side on to the up turned car, leaving a trail behind him as he went.
"Get behind the car and run, fucking run!" He screamed as he placed the can down.
He ran beyond the car and lined up his sights letting them rest on the jerry can, he waited for the crowd to fall within range of the blast radius, pulled the trigger and watched as a fire ball flew into the air taking a few bodies with it, the trail of petrol ignited and raced toward the car which then also erupted into a giant inferno, the shock wave alone took down a good portion and sent Ryan stumbling backward, the rest of the horde were engulfed in flames... but kept coming.
"Are you kidding?!" Ryan screamed.
"Marcus, Ryan! Move you ass!... The tower block!" Shouted the firing NSA guy who had now stopped to provide covering fire as Ryan and the black guy who he know knew as Marcus caught up and ran beyond him, he stopped firing and turned to run, his foot slipped down the curb mid turn and fell Into the road hitting his head, dazing him momentarily and leaving practically motionless on the floor. Ryan and Marcus, unaware of the situation, heard only a blood curdling scream behind them and turned to see the horde hunched over the fallen man.
"Jameson! ... bastards, fucking bastards get offa him!" Yelled Marcus who pulled his sub machine gun into his shoulder and fired off a volley of rounds, all professionalism and training had gone out the window, Marcus was operating on emotion, his rage and sadness consuming him. He watched as his bullets tore through the skin and muscle of these monsters and watched as they carried on unfazed, their hands and teeth peeling long strips of flesh away from Jamesons face and head, the mans high pitched screams of agony made Ryans skin crawl, he saw Jameson reach a helpless hand out to them, he appeared to be mouthing what looked like 'please'
Ryan couldn't watch any more and instead looked at Marcus roaring like lunatic as he continued to fire at the monsters, his breathing erratic as he tried drastically to help his friend.
Ryan grabbed his shoulder and screamed at him to do the right thing.
"Fucking shoot him! Shoot him he can't suffer like that! Fucking shoot him now! Do it, just do it!"
Marcus nodded and put three rounds into his friends already exposed skull, his body fell limp and Ryan could have sworn he saw the relief in Jameson's lifeless eyes as his suffering came to an abrupt end.
Ryan dragged Marcus into the towering building behind them and barricaded the door, he ran over the reception desk and lowered the metal shutters outside for extra security.
He proceeded up the stairs and turned to see Marcus slowly following him, his head sunken in despair.
Ryan moved to comfort him but was met with a dismissive hand. He had given up.
"Hey, I'm sorry about Jameson... You did the right thing. It's what he would have wanted... you have a radio right? Meet me up top when you're ready okay?"
Ryan closed the door behind him and slowly made his way up the first flight of stairs, he made a point of avoiding the elevators, he looked over his shoulder and sighed, he could only imagine what Marcus was going through clearly he and Jameson had been very good friends. The thought took Ryan's mind to his wife, he only hoped that whatever had happened here wasn't happening back home. It must have been the entire city out there chasing them. He sat down at the top of the stairs and watched the door waiting for Marcus to emerge. He never did.
After what seemed like half an hour, Ryan stood and headed toward the door when he heard a single gun shot and a body slump to the floor.
Ryans mind raced, he ran to the door and readied his pistol, he couldn't let Marcus take on those things, those Indestructible, flesh eating bastards. He opened the door and saw one body lying on the ground, it was Marcus. Beside his lifeless body he found the radio and an open notebook which ha only two things scrawled on it in a shaky script, the first was a radio ident the second simply said:
'FORT LEONARD WOOD'
No doubt where they were supposed to go before all this happened. Ryan tried the radio but got no response, he decided it was best to stay put and find food. After that he would decide his next move. But what the fuck happened out there, why were there people eating people!? it was a question that Ryan would never have the answer too.
Ryans thoughts returned to the present, he would never forget the events of that day and he would never forget the first death he ever saw. Jameson, poor bastard. That was no way to go, Ryan pulled out his grenade and turned it over in his hand, if ever the time came where he found himself pinned down by reanimated he would pull that pull and go out with a bang.