AN: The beginning is from a Childs perspective, so please at least read past that, because it's suppose to sounds like it was written by a 10 year old.

Night Stalkers

Prologue

I Am Man

"Andrew!" I can hear my dads voice calling for me. But I keep walking. I know that I have to keep an absolutely straight course if I ever want to find my way back. I had thought about using breadcrumbs or something like that. But then my dad might follow me, and that's the last thing I wanted. I had to do this all by myself.

After all I am 10 years old now, and I am officially a man. Even my mom told me so. She said once you're in the double digits, that you start becoming a man and have to help with more chores. But I think that's just a scam, she just wants me to do more chores. So, instead, I decided I would prove to her that I really am a man. So, at the house, I had grabbed my dad's rifle and had gone off into the woods by our house.

"Andrew! Come back this instant!" My dad was angry now, but I still didn't turn around. My dad was piiiiissed… But I couldn't turn back; I must have gone a couple of miles by now! I licked my dry cracked lips and smiled.

I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. And turn quickly, the gun slips in my wet palms, but I quickly get it back in position, the scope covering my eye. I gulp realizing that my own fear is making me clumsy; the gun could have gone off!

I see something gray in the distance, not that far really. I know the gun can shoot that far. My heart starts beating fast as I take aim, and quickly pull the trigger. A gun shot echoes around a quiet forest. It hits the gray shape, which lets out a yelp and falls over. My heart starts beating faster and faster. I actually hit it! On my first try too! I throw the gun to the ground with out even thinking about it, and run over to see what I hit. As I get closer, it quickly becomes clear that it's a wolf. Amazing! I yell in excitement. I look to see where the bullet hit, right in the chest. It must have hit the heart! A perfect shot.

"Yea!" I yell in excitement. "Boo ya! I AM MAN!" I yell and start laughing. Amazing shot! If this doesn't prove that I am a man, I don't know what will.

I hear a low growl behind me; I stand up a little straighter. My heart drops past my stomach. Something barks behind me, and it's not a dog. Sweat starts pouring down my face. I just want to cry for my dad to come help me. But I am a man now aren't I? I can deal with this, right? That's what a real man would do. He would face his fear head on, and shoot the creature behind him before he could even howl.

"I am a man…" I whisper underneath my breath unconvincingly, and I turn around to see my hunt, only to realize too late that I don't have my gun anymore. The wolf jumps; I don't even have time to scream. The last thing I see is the wolfs frothing maw opening wide.

After that rabid mutt mauled me, my dad found me. He had heard the gun shot and had followed its sound, eventually finding my footprints and following them. He first found the gun, which I had carelessly thrown on the ground, and then he saw me lying unconscious on the ground, being torn to shreds by the wolf. He shot the wolf with pinpoint accuracy, and then took me home where he bandaged me up. He then threw me into the car and sped towards the hospital, going an average of 55 mph over the speed limit. I didn't awake for any of this.

I spent two month in the hospital. They said I was on the verge of dying when I first came in, and stayed there for the whole first week. It wasn't till the second week that I became stable enough for a doctor to leave the room for any period of time. I don't remember anything that happened in the first two weeks. But the first thing I do remember was my older brother standing over me telling me that I was going to become a werewolf and that the hospital was going to put me down just like the vet did to our dog Rosy when she got sick. For the two months that I was in the hospital, he came in three times a week, telling me that every night when I fell asleep I turned into a werewolf and started to kill people, and that eventually I would start turning into a werewolf during the day. I believed everything he ever told me. He even used nails to scratch the hospital walls and eventually my room and told me that the scratches were from my claws when I transformed. After 2 weeks of this, he scared me into insomnia.

After I left the hospital and right before my fourteenth birthday, I was still convinced I would turn into a werewolf. I started locking myself in my room when I started puberty, thinking I was turning into a werewolf permanently. After my parents explained what was really going on, I still want sure. I never told them that the werewolf idea was Nathan's, my older brother.

Also during those years, my parents never trusted me. They said they almost lost me once, and it wasn't something they ever planned on repeating. They wouldn't let me do anything more exciting than walk too and from school. But I had no friends anyways. The scars covering my face were more than enough to scare even the toughest bully let alone any possible friends. I was left alone. Isolated from everyone else. My brother, Nathan, even switched into different junior highs and high schools so that he would never be associated with me, his freak little "werewolf" brother.

When I turned 14, my parents finally started letting me out of the house again. I joined the Boy Scouts, hoping that they could teach me how to survive on my own, in case I ever wanted to run away from my parents and my hated brother. But when I was 16, I was mugged while walking home from school. I was able to run away before anything serious happened, but my parents still found it necessary for me to take self-defense classes. I quickly left boy scouts and devoted all my attention to the arts of self-defense. Even school came second.

When I graduated from high school, top of my class, I told my parents I was joining the army. They cried and cried for days on end, pleading with me to not go. But I had already made my mind. If I was ever to be all that I could be, it was in the army. I needed to prove to myself that I could survive in this world, and be everything that I had wanted to be since I was small. And if I so died in the process, then the world would be happier, especially my brother. When he heard that I was joining the army, he smiled and whispered in my ear "The hospital didn't have the guts to do it, but I'm sure the Iraqis will…" He then left the house laughing and howling like a wolf. I never saw him again.

I decided to join the air force and become a pilot instead of joining the army because I had always dreamed of flying. I got accepted immediately. I served five years in the air force and was serving in Area 51 when the KV virus struck New York. The virus quickly swept across the nation and then spread all over the world. My parents were some of the first to be killed outside of New York.

I was flying over Las Vegas, dropping off food supplies in a special-ops helicopter when I first learned that I was immune to the deadly virus. Back then, our systems were underdeveloped, they weren't accurate. The only sure way to tell if someone was in the early stages of infection was hair loss, and my co-pilot was bald.