A/N: So I sent 8MilesThatWay a message if I could make a story based on his story, XCIX, and was happy that he gave me the go-ahead. So I guess everybody knows by now that his story is mostly based on Prototype, and yet something about his story is captivating. Perhaps it's Bolt's struggle with himself. Anyway, I hope you update soon =).
So this story has actually less to do with Bolt. In fact, the story is designed in such a way that it would not affect XCIX's original flow of the story. Bolt will make some minor appearances once in a while, but the main focus is about the infection and its implications to the war effort.
Updates will be less frequent though as opposed to my first fanfic here. Apparently, I'm not in vacation anymore.
Disclaimer: Bolt belongs to Dreamworks. Story is based on 8MilesThatWay's XCIX.
Quarantine: Escape of Los Angeles
Prologue
Apache Longbow 'Scalper 1-1 LIVE FEED'
"1-2, let's go low low."
"Roger wilco, low low, 1-1."
…
"1-2, several targets heading northeast through street Bradley."
"Wilco, engaging."
…
"Wait a minute. I see small target 1-2. Possible HVT. We'll try to confirm."
"Roger 1-1. We'll hold."
"Engage other targets first 1-2. We don't want to be sitting ducks."
"Wilco. Multiple targets. Launching Hellfire."
"Go ahead 1-2. Take them down."
"Missle away."
…
"Alright 1-2, target identified. HVT confirmed to be Kilo niner-niner. Proceed with caution."
Chapter 1: Waking Up in Hell
4 days later…
"All ground units, be advised. Evacuation order-April. Fall back to grid square two-Kilo for extraction. Last pick-up is 1700 hours… All ground units, be advised. Evacuation order-April. Fall back to grid square two-Kilo for extraction. Last pick-up is 1700 hours… All ground units, be advised. Evacuation order-April. Fall back to grid square two-Kilo for extraction. Last pick-up is 1700 hours…"
He slowly awoke to sound of the emergency radio broadcast. Before him was the wreck that was once the Humvee he rode. They had slammed head on with a civilian vehicle. The driver of the other vehicle apparently already dead. He tried to move his hands slowly. Good, he thought as he realized he only suffered relatively minor injuries. He looked to his left. His driver was not so lucky and so were the other guys on the back. He got the radio of his captain. "HQ…this is Delta two-two. Man down, I'm the… I'm the last of my squad, and in need of a… MEDEVAC at Delta Lima Alpha. I need…" He then realized that the chord of the radio had been severed, rendering it useless. Great, he could receive messages but could not report back. The radio message kept repeating in his head and he suddenly realized he was in trouble. Stuck in the middle of downtown Los Angeles and he was the last person in his squad. He also has no wheels and he is trapped in his own vehicle.
"Is there anyone out there? Someone please help me!" The armed officer yelled out. He tried to struggle out but he would slightly budge and that was it. Exhausting his strength, he relaxed. "This couldn't get any worse."
As if his luck has ran out, he heard the sound of barking and howling from the distance. Worse, it sounded like it was getting closer.
"Holy shit!" He abruptly ended his break and now was struggling for his life. As he slowly tried to break free of the wrecked military vehicle. He looked through a broken window and could see the distant figures of four legged demons racing to his wreckage. He was now in panic as he tried to reach and tried faster to get out. Now his leg was the last thing stuck and the K-9s were now half the distance from previous. He tried with every effort to pull himself out. Finally, it had paid off as he fell to the ground with his entire body out of the Humvee. As he regained ground, he grabbed the rifle on his seat and as he got his rifle out, a K-9 jumped for him. It was the ugliest thing he had ever seen. This was once a dog, he thought. He did not have enough time to think though as he switch his rifle from semi-auto to round-burst shooting three bullets to the K-9's skull. The dog dropped, missing him by only a few. One down, dozens more to go. Then again, he thought his chances were better if he ran and so he started running away from them.
Hitting and running seemed like a good idea so he tried shooting at them hoping to get lucky, but none of his shots were hitting. Firing a weapon to the back may not have been a good idea, especially with the angle he had to make the shot. Now it would only seem he needed to focus on running if he was going to outrun them. Dogs however, with their four legs, always outran people, what more if they were mutants on steroids? Now the soldier thought this was stupid and that his chances of escape were really slim from the start. Planning for a last stand, he headed straight for one of the buildings were he could dig-in. The narrow corridors also provided a good choke point for incoming targets. He got to a hall inside a building that had a corridor heading towards the ground floor comfort rooms. This was where he thought we would make his last stand. He got to the end of the corridor and dug-in. Soon enough, they all started running towards him like a mad horde. He switched his rifle from round-burst to auto. He did not care about conserving ammo anymore as he started to fire everything he got on them. "Eat some lead!" He yelled out unleashing dozens of round every clip. They fell one by one and it seemed that it was working. Somehow, he had diminished their numbers to less scary figures. He had to reload fast enough though and he was already running out. He fired everything until he was at his last mag. Then it was all gone, but there was still one more. He still his his side-arm and with that, he got it out and aimed at it. With a weaker momentum, it took quite a while to take it down. It did not even seemed fazed to stop. It was rushing towards him at the corridor. He was now down to his last clip and started firing for the last time. As he did, he realized it was no good. He tried to move back as he tripped. The infected then made a huge leap unleashing his claws. The man lifted his pistol with one last bullet in the barrel. He fired his last shot. It missed. Was this how it was going to end, he thought. He used his arm to cover his assault and closed his eyes.
Little did he know that his luck had changed when he heard a huge bang from what sounded like a gun. Whatever it was, he knew it was not his as he opened his eyes, he saw the rushing K-9 suddenly fall on him like dead weight. He struggled to move out of it when someone helped him get the body off of his. "You okay there, buddy?"
He noticed another soldier who held with him a shotgun, the barrel still smoking. He was glad. "Thanks, you fuckin' saved my life, man."
"Don't thank me yet. Where's your unit?"
"They're dead. I'm the last in my squad."
They then heard more barking at the distance. "We need to get out of here." The other soldier looked at him as he noticed his pistol and the M-16 rifle he carried. "Out of ammo, eh?" He then got from his back what appeared to be another shotgun. "SPAS-12, beat's the crap out of them."
They started leaving the scene. Just outside was a parked Bradley IFV, with the door at the back open. Another guy from the inside was queuing for them to get in. The doors close. They were now on the move.
"What's your name by the way?" The man asked.
"Corporal Flint, sir."
"Sergeant Fields, and from now on, you're our squaddie."
As they move away, they are unaware of a white shepherd dog watching over the roof of one of the buildings. The dog jumped high above and fell down to one of the automobiles, crushing the automobile flat and walking to the street relatively unharmed.