A new fanfiction by MrFluffman! The zombie apocalypse decends on Earth, and now a group of humans is our only hope.
The zombie's head exploded, and the metal helmet it had been wearing clanged to the ground. Sarge reloaded his shotgun, and leaned down, picking up the metal helmet. He shook his head, laughed. "Helmets," he muttered.
"What about them," Church said, walking up, kneeling down next to Sarge.
"It means they're changing." Sarge grumbled. He stood up, wiped some blood off on Church's leather jacket. Church jerked back, earning a chuckle from the other man, Tucker.
"Clear the way," Tex said, pushing Church to the side. Tucker watched carefully, detecting a small blush on Church's face. Grinning, he filed it away for later.
"If you ladies are done whining," Sarge said, cocking his shotgun, "we've got another wave coming." The others looked up to see several zombies running at them from across the street.
"Run, or shoot?" Tucker said, raising his gun. When the zombies got closer, he yelled, "RUN, OR SHOOT?"
"Both," Church yelled, and pulled the others after him as the horde got closer.
Tucker leaped over a garbage can, firing his SMG as the several zombies who climbed up after him. One had it's legs seperate from it's body, and it continued to crawl. Another shot silenced it.
Church dashed around the building, only to find a zombie clutching his throat. Chocking, he brought up his gun to it's jaw, and let loose.
"There!" Tucker yelled, pointing, "an elevator! Let's go."
They all made one last dash for it, as zombies started crawling and lunging after them. As they reached it, a feetless one lunged and grabbed Tex's legs. She tripped, and the zombie crawled on top of her.
"Go!" Church yelled at the others, and ran up to her. He got a no-scope on the crawler, and pulled her to her feet.
"Let's go!" they ran toward the elevator, which Tucker was keeping open. As they jumped in, Tucker let them go, and the doors slammed shut, and the elevator started to rise.
Church collapsed against the wall, breathing hard. The group started to relax.
The elevator dropped them off on top of a building. The tent they had been using as a temporary center for those of them that were injured was still standing.
"Okay," Church said, heading toward the minifridge that Tucker had stolen from a department store, "anyone dead? Anyone bitten?"
A small no came from inside the tent, where Simmons was recouperating from being thrown into a wall by a Carrier. Church smiled, turned to the team. "Anyone who was active?"
"Nope," Tex said, "you took out the Crawler before it could get me. Thanks by the way."
Church mumbled something that sounded like a your welcome, but right then a roar was heard in the distance. They all looked up.
"Hunter," Simmons clarified. Hunters where the snipers of the undead. Each one was fast, agile, and could carry a gun. "And it lost it's pray."
"But that means," Tucker stammered, "if it's so far away... they're other survivors!"
"You don't no that," Sarge said, "those things are known for hunting their own kind on occasion."
"Sounds like it came from the UNSC military base on the other side of the city," Church said, pointing, "if there are survivors there, we might be able to join up."
"So you want to head there?" Tex asked, "we might not come out alive." Church couldn't help but laugh. When she glared at him, he stopped himself, said, "Well, it is an apocalypse, so not many are alive."
Tex grinned. Tucker rolled his eyes, then said, "Church and I will take the night watch. Everyone else, conk out."
Church yawned, took another sip of beer. Tucker had whipped it up rather quickly, having been a bartender before the war began.
It was funny, referring to this as a 'war'. It had been going on for several years, with no progress on the UNSC's side, and thousands of victories for the undead. People had started calling it 'the Rotting War' as much for the zombies as well as humanity itself.
The outbreak had started with the creation of a new antibiotic, called Mana. It was designed to cure most desieses from the get-go, and so the company who created it gave it away to thousands. Those who injected it into themselves found all their antibodies and immune system elimenated, driving them insane while their bodies slowly decomposed. They would literally 'rot' until death.
The infection spread as the infected bit others, spreading the virus. Soon, most of the world had fallen, except for multiple people who were immune to it, such as Church and his friends. The UNSC had quarintined most of the United States and the rest of the world, and regulary sent ships to gain survivors.
But then the war had been declared. Survivors reported that the infected where becoming more agile, and more aggressive. Faster, smarter. So the UNSC declared war.
The small town of Blood Gulch would have gone unnoticed if not for the large amount of zombie hoardes surronding the area. And it was in the center of the area where Sarge's group had taken charge against the infected.
They woke up, had what could be discribed as breakfast, and started on their goal from last night, find some old parts to assemble a small vehicle, which they would use to escape the horde.
They walked through the city, voices chirping against the thin air. Simmons was sniffing, apparently confused. Church leaned back and nudged him.
"The air," Simmons said, sniffing cautiously, "it's a lot thinner than it should be. Kinda easy to move through. It's like the infected are altering the enviorment."
Church looked worried. "Are they?"
"Short of joining the UNSC," Simmons muttered, "I wouldn't know."
"Carrier!" Sarge yelled, as a giant, muscular, headless Infected launched itself down the street. The others took cover as the invevitable wave of horde followed.
Tex hefted a small RPG onto her shoulder. She let loose, plowing a hole through the Carrier. The survivors quickly jumped up and started running toward the small fire escape.
More Coming Soon!