Prologue
World War III, Great Nations Strike with a Backhand
"The End of World War III? {Feb. 15th, 2034}
After the dawn of the third World War, rivaling countries [America] and [Russia] have launched numerous attacks on third-world countries that have supported or has been aided by the other. Both countries have reignited the flame of 1947 as the two sides looked to amass firepower for the upcoming, inevitable war between them. [The Russians] went down the route for quantity while [the US] sought fewer missiles but with higher quality. Intercontinental ballistic missiles were seen as essential in being able to launch long-range strikes raised fears in [the US] during the twentieth century when [Russia] sent the first artificial satellite [Sputnik 1] into space in the year 1957. No more than the size of a beach ball, [the US] dreaded the thought that [the Soviets] could reach across the world (Sputnik 1 was recorded an estimation of 98 minutes to orbit around the Earth on its elliptical path).
[Mutually Assured Destruction (also known as MAD)] ensured that there was no doubt that an attack would lead to a wipeout of the world. A total annihilation of the human race will follow as multiple nations were pulled along into the war by connections such as [the UK] and [Canada] accompanying [America] against [Russia], who's allies are Communistic countries they've aided in the past, [Vietnam], and [Cuba] and so forth.
A Russian ballistic warhead has launched days after the newly-elect president of the [United States of America] promised to 'defeat the evil Communistic ideology and replace it with the winning Capitalism that has succeeded angelically on the great soil belonging to the Land of the Free' earlier on in his campaign. Despite the fact that [Russia] is no longer a Communistic country but a powerful Democratic nation with its people holding great Communistic aspirations and nostalgic memories of the [Union of Soviet Socialist Republics] during it's rule from 1922 to 1991, [President Jared A. Dover] declares open nuclear warfare and traditional combat in the [Middle East] and skies of [Europe] and [North America].
The warhead, DYAVAL, made contact on American soil in the agricultural state of [California] on the [1st of February of 2034]–nearly one hundred years after [the US] deployed the world's first atomic bomb on [Japanese city, Hiroshima]–before the the government retaliated and calculated an attack to deflect another incoming missile lifting off Russian soil, causing a collision over the launch pad. [America] continued to counterattack against [Russia] with multiple warheads, aiming for agricultural sectors and demanding for a defeat from the Democratic nation. The bloodshed of innocent citizens in the struck state have been estimated to over twenty-six million from the blast alone, millions more are injured with citizens from [Nevada] and [Oregon] facing radiation from the neighboring state. Either to slash the number of the population or to destroy a rich state–economically, historically, and culturally–[the US] has suffered a great loss within it's nation and many citizens question the stability of [President Jared A. Dover]."
The young officer ripped the newspaper clipping from his cubicle wall and turned it over as fat tears ran down his face. Chest heaving heavily, he scribbled furiously on any space of the paper as the released screams of the zombie with great wattles outside threatened him to write his message faster with his shaky hands. "I-I'm s-sorry, Peter... I'm sorry..." he whimpered as the Screamer attracted more zombies to the glass panes of the building. "I...I don't want t-to become them..."
The short-statured man had ran into his old workplace after being separated from his group two blocks away. It was unfortunate that a Screamer was triggered into letting out a mighty roar by instinct and had followed him solely as the others ran into a different direction. Panic has set in as he hyperventilated in the vacated building as the undead started banging on the damaged windows as he repeated the same thing over and over in desperation. "Pl-please... Go away!" His free hand tangled it's fingers into his curly blond hair as he swallowed large gulps of air though his mouth until he stopped breathing at that moment.
The sound of breaking glass drained away any last hue from his cheeks as scampered feet scratched along the tiles of the police station floor in search of him. "I don't want to become them!" He cried out, attracting the attention of various zombies as they started hobbling towards him. The gun that was loosely in his left hand raised up to the fresh wave of zombies approaching him before he looked down to the picture frames on his desk that held photos of friends and family.
"Please come back safely, they need you–"
His vision glossed again as his attention was pulled away when the Screamer lurched at him at a faster rate.
"I will. Don't worry, Erika. I'll come back and this will be my final mission for the next week, I promise."
There was no way of escaping. Ten zombies were cornering him, all appearing to be twice his size. Their milky white eyes reflected his swift movement of consciously bringing the gun up to his temple, a steady finger on the trigger.
"Thank you. I know you don't break promises."
One gunshot resonated from the building along with the whisper of a soft, and reassured, reminiscent giggle.
