Intro

Infected birds. Birds, they said. How could birds get from Manhattan Island, across the ocean, and into France? Whatever. The reason isn't important anymore. The point is, this must come to an end. But to what end? What about all the people I knew? What became of them? Are they where I left them? Or do they wander the streets as another Infected, or even a Brawler? These thoughts and many others shot through my mind at the speed of a bullet. Ha, interesting choice of words. Bullet. Being a French Marine, I was accustomed to such terms. Let me explain.

It's been 5 years since first encountering X.A.N.A. To be more precise, it was about three weeks to graduation from Kadic and we had beaten X.A.N.A., twice. Or at least it was, before shit hit the fan. According to Blackwatch, as well as the science community, birds, or something of the like, infected with the Mercer Virus made their way across the ocean, hitting Spain, Great Britain, France, and several other select countries across the world. Bullshit if you ask me. More like that there's a Gentek facility somewhere in Paris or the surrounding suburbs and one of their experiments got loose. They were the one that let the 'Mercer' Virus get into Alex Mercer's hands. I know what it was once called. It was called the Blacklight Virus. But they changed the name to take the blame away from them for creating it.

It hit my suburb the hardest of the city of Paris. Val-de-Marne, at 245 square kilometers, was somewhat hit and is still picking up the rubble. It's known as the PZ: YZ, or Paris Zone: Yellow Zone. Seine-Saint-Denis, at 236 square km, was almost untouched but still under heavy military guard to stomp out the remains. That would be the Green Zone, or PZ: GZ. My suburb, Sceaux, along with the rest of Hauts-de-Seine and Paris, at a combined area of 263 km, had been reduced to an unhospitable cesspool known as the Red Zone (PZ: RZ). The whole city, nothing but a ruin of what it once was. Within hours of infection, a majority of the population was a bunch of walking, mindless meat sacks bent on destruction. The military ordered the people to take up arms. They couldn't react fast enough and needed first responders, minutemen if you will. The owner of a local gun store began going out, handing guns to those willing to take them.

When the van pulled up to Kadic, several people stood at the entrance, including me. The van was white, with the words, Arnold's 'Arcy'nal of Weapons, painted on the side in large, purple and black, carnival style letters. Arnold stepped out of the van, and asked to see Mr. Delmas. Sissy ran off to find him, and I asked, "So what are you doing here?"

He looked at me. He was about 5'8", with his dark hair parted to one side. His brown eyes squinted tight to block the light and his lips parted ever so slightly, revealing his shining white teeth. His caramel colored skin shone with sweat. He wore a light blue, button up short sleeve shirt with white chinos. His dark loafers twitched as he leaned back on his heels. When he opened his mouth to answer, his voice was a mid-bass. "I'm here to speak to your principal."

"What about?" Someone asked in the background.

"I was hoping to turn this into a second stronghold. One for people to come to for evacuation." He answered nonchalantly. In crisis we were in, I wasn't very surprised he would go out and tell us. We were getting ready to get into the van and leave the city ourselves.

"I'm afraid we can't do that." Delmas said as he began to shove his way through the crowd of students.

"What do you mean? This is one of the safest places in town." He said.

"The entire city is soon to fall. We should be leaving, not risking these children for a few extra lives." Delmas said this seriously. Arnold and Delmas stared each other down for what seemed like hours. Eventually, Arnold backed off.

"Fine. Save the children. It'll be your military arrest ending your career for abandoning innocent lives. This place could easily hold against the Infected." He stormed back to the side door to the van. "Still, I am obligated to offer you ammunition while you get ready to abandon both your camp and humanity." He grabbed the door and slid it open. "I have all sorts of weapons to offer."

Delmas looked him straight in the eye. "We don't need your charity. Leave this campus, now."

"Like it matters." Arnold started. "This suburb has been quarantined. If you show up at the border without military escort, you'll be shot dead." Delmas narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but Arnold's face didn't show any signs of having lied. He was dead serious.

Delmas motioned the students back onto campus. He spoke low enough, so that Arnold couldn't hear. "New plan. We're holding out on campus until the military arrives."

"What about guns?" I asked. "We need a way to protect ourselves." A lot of students nodded in agreement.

"Fine. Arm yourselves and get back on campus. Five minutes, then the gate closes." Saying this sped past the kids and asked for a pair of pistols. Arnold handed them to him along with what looked like a laptop case filled with bullets.

"Split these among some of your students." Arnold said. Delmas then turned and handed a pistol to his daughter.

"Come dear. Let's start setting barricades." He said. Sissy reluctantly followed, only wanting to see what I would grab. A long line formed of about 50 students. I'd say that was about maybe 500 kids. Seven grades with about 70 some odd kids in each grade. The others thought it was too long and headed back to help set barricades.

More than Five minutes passed until it was my turn. Surely he would wait long enough for me pick something up and get back in.

I was 18, and had developed quite the reaction timing from Lyoko. so I picked up a M-16 with quite a few extra clips. I would've taken more, but he claimed, "Sorry, but I need to get to the park. From there, I can arm survivors that get there and get out myself. Keep your eyes open for weapons and ammo left on the streets for the passerby." and pulled off. I was about to get back inside the gates, but the groundskeeper showed up at the gate and closed it. To add insult to injury, when I stepped out, they happened to be setting up barbed wire and other stuff along the wall, so things couldn't crawl over. So, without thought, he locked the gate and covered it in grease from the cafeteria. Poor Odd, it probably killed him to see that grease just given to the Infected. It was bright and sunny when they did this, like they didn't see me. They saw me and left me out there to die.

So I had no choice.

I left the school in search for the city park. The guy in the van said that was where people where gathering, and also where the military was going to do a mass evac when they arrived. I began to walk down the street. I had been to the park before. That was where the Hermitage sat. I remember that place well. That was where all Princess' nightmares kept leading to. That was also where the Furnace room incident happened.

I even went so far as to steal the electric bus. I might be terrible at academics, but dammit I have the best set of street smarts among the group, except maybe William. Hotwiring the old thing, it peeled out and headed for the park. At that time, I wasn't seeing very many infected. They were all at the park and other heavily populated areas. Most were empty with shattered windows and doors hanging open. Others were covered in scratches and bloodstains. So, I followed the sound of bullets, as well as the trails of dead bodies. God, what were these people using? I saw some infected simply soaked in their own blood. Some visibly had holes in their bodies, or chunks missing. Several were dismembered, or even disemboweled. Their intestines strewn across the street as a testament to their waste of life.

Then, I came upon a turn. Right and left were clear, but two cop cars blockaded the path straight ahead. The doors were shut and the lights flashed without sound. The Infected were swamping the vehicles. They were absolutely determined to break through to blockade. Maybe the light was distracting them. There wasn't any cops in the car. They were probably either hiding behind the cars or part of the Infected. I couldn't tell what they saw though, as I could only see black smoke rising into the air, greedily fed by what smelled like burning garbage.

A cross wind picked up and blew the smoke away from the crowded street. At the other end of the block, I could see two more cop cars blocking the other entrance. In the middle of the street sat a pile of corpses. They were the burning corpses of the Infected, used to attract other Infected to add to the pile. I didn't see the cops anywhere though. There should have been about 8, two to each car. But I didn't see anything. I was about to turn away when I heard a gunshot.

Looking up, I saw a single officer standing behind what was presumably her car. A brown ponytail stuck out from under her blue hat. Still in uniform, her skin looked really pale in comparison. She couldn't have been older than 25. She held the rifle from within her cruiser weakly, not sure what to do. Her pistol sat in its holster. She needs help and I'm the only one that can give it.

My lead foot slammed into the pedal. The engine roared to life with energy and jolted forward. I jerked the bus over to the right. It then slammed between the cop cars and stopped next to the woman. Sticking the column shift into park, I ran out and leveled my rifle. "Are you nuts?" She yelled. But I pulled the trigger anyway. It flew just past her ear and slammed into the face of a female Infected. She screamed gutturally and fell to the ground as blood poured from her wound. The officer looked at the crumpled mass behind her. "Thanks."

I grabbed her elbow. "We need to get going." I pulled, but she stayed standing where she was. "What's wrong?" Then I heard her sniffle.

She turned to me with eyes full of tears. "My partner is wounded. One of those things clawed him, and we need to get him to camp. He can be cured, I'm sure of it." She ran over to her cruiser and pulled out a man. Part of his sleeve was torn, exposing three distinct claw marks on his arm. He looked pale and was groaning. She then slung him over her back.

"As if I'm going to take a biter with me!" I yelled. "Now drop him, he's no good anymore."

"No. You're lying to me! There has to be a cure. I know it!" She yelled in defiance. She took a step forward, then screamed.

"What happened?" I asked. She fell to her knees. I could see over her shoulders. Her 'partner' had turned and bit her in the side.

"Please help me!" She screamed. She stuck out her arms, wanting me to carry her. The Infected dropped to the ground. It stood and raced towards me. I lifted rifle, tightly gripping the trigger. "No!" She screamed out as I fired a round into his head. His head jerked back, tossing Infected blood into the air. His own momentum threw his legs into the air and landed on his back. He leaned forward to get back up, but I silenced his movements with a shot to the heart. He fell back like a limp doll. "What have you done? You killed him! I should have you arrested for murder."

I looked at her with cold eyes. Her body had already began to mutate where the wound was. I was bubbling up like boiling water. She was gone. She looked at me both with disbelief and desperation. Her mouth said 'How could you?', but her eyes said, 'End me. Do it before I get you.' I swallowed hard, then said, "You can't murder what's already dead." And I pulled the trigger. The bullet struck her straight in the bubbling mass on her right side. Blood mixed with a thick, yellow puss oozed out onto the pavement as her body fell limply forward onto the ground. The same goo slowly crawled its way out of her mouth.

I could only stand there in disbelief. I just killed two police officers. Two people, dead by my hands. But were they still people in the state they were in? I didn't know then, and I don't know now. But at that time, I nearly made myself sick with guilt of killing two people conflicted with this disease that consumed so many other minds before them. The only thing that brought my senses back to me was the sound of fast footsteps. Turning around, several Infected charged at me, mouths open. Then I noticed something. The same bubbling mass on her side appeared on the heads of all these… things. The bubbling mass probably built up in the wound spot, then made its way to the brain, to control the person infected. That must be their weak spots.

I lifted my rifle to my shoulder and cracked a round into the bubbling site on one man's stomach. Puss oozed out as he grabbed the wound. He doubled over in pain, then crumpled to the ground. I let out about a half clip into the Infected running at me. All of them dropped instantly if I shot them in either spot. I ran back to the bus and sat down. My hands were still shaky from the thoughts in my head. But I had to stay focused if I were to survive. I shifted into reverse and pulled back. Swerving to the right, I shoved the shift into drive and drove down the road. I was only a block away from the park.

Turning the corner to my refuge, I saw a weak barricade of sandbags at the entrance. It wouldn't have held long with all the infected at it anyway. So, I did the sensible thing in my situation. I drove the bus up against the wall to the park. It grinded to a stop in front of the gate. By grinded, I mean skidded on all the infected juices and organs that got scattered under the wheels, making the whole thing slick. I killed the engine and grabbed my rifle. Instinct, rely only on instinct, I told myself. If I didn't stay focused on surviving, I wouldn't. Taking the butt of the rifle, I shattered a window and climbed out. I could hear the glass crunch under my shoes, like autumn leaves, or fresh snow. Looking at the sky, I could see the sky turn gray with clouds. It would probably rain soon. I would've ran deeper in, but a voice called for me. I didn't know the man, but he saw I had a weapon.

"Yeah?" I answered without looking his way.

"Get up here and help survivors get in." The man answered. I turned around to see scaffolding set up along the whole wall. Men and women with assorted weapons stood, shooting down infected and flagging survivors to climb through the bus. The man that called out my name stood next to the gate, facing me. He was a gruff looking man. Probably in his forties, about 6', balding with a black comb over and a beer belly. He wore a white wife beater with blue jeans. He was more than likely a construction worker. He also had a five o'clock shadow and brown work boots. In his hands, he held dual pistols and his tool belt was full of extra clips.

I climbed up and began to shoot along with him. Shooting the infected was like fish in a barrel. I was up there maybe 15 minutes before my ammo ran dry. By that time, I had seen almost 300 people get into the park. As I was about to fetch more from deeper within, I heard a low thundering. Several choppers flew overhead, as well as several APC's and cargo trucks rolled up to the entrance, escorted by a tank. The barrel swung directly towards the bus. With a single, low roar, the bus ignited into flames, with shrapnel and glass being thrown into the air. It rolled through the now widened gap. The others followed swiftly. All the people got down and started heading for the camp. I only followed them until I reached what they kept calling Point Alpha.

Then I came to the clearing the Hermitage sat in. Men and women alike filled this safe haven. Not a single one I recognized. None of my friends or family made it. But what was the likelihood of my parents being in Sceaux anyways? When trucks drove by, they were led by marines in forest camo. When the choppers landed, these mysterious men got out. They had the coolest outfits.

They were in all black agile armor. They looked like S.W.A.T. members, but they were completely covered. A silver gauntlet/communicator adorned each soldiers' left arm. Some carried assault rifles. Others had LMG's, while others had grenade launchers and even others had rocket launchers similar to the Stingray. Their faces were covered with a black mask that head blue glass binocular mods over their eyes. A blue hood hung over the entire thing. These were the Blackwatch troops.

They walked over and began sweeping their gauntlets in front of people. Three slits that glowed light purple would either turn green or red. These men worked without speaking. If it turned red, they placed you in the back of a truck. If it turned green, they shoved towards the troop choppers. Thankfully, I was scanned green and shoved onto a chopper. I was the first one in the second chopper, and got to sit on the bench in the back. By the time the people were scanned, only 100 people showed green and got too be in a chopper. And that was out of the possibly 1000's in the clearing. The rest were piled onto the trucks until there was no more room. Even Arnold went onto a truck.

To be honest, I haven't even seen or heard from or about him since. The rest stayed behind with Marine and Blackwatch alike, both radioing in more vehicles. A bright flash of lightning cascaded through the now thick, grey clouds. Then the rain started to fall. It was a sign. A sign that things to come would only be worse. As the chopper lifted into the air, I heard two voices. Looking up, a video feed was playing of two men standing next to each other.

One was of an old, bald man in forest camo. The other wore the Blackwatch outfit, but without the headgear. His skin was tanned and his head shaven. Although I missed their names, two names appeared under them. The man in the camo was a high ranking Marine named General Augustin Beaumont. The Blackwatch member was the head of military procedures under the name of Commander Girard Duval.

Beaumont started. "Now that introductions are done with, let's get down to business."

Duval picked up. "You've been selected to become either a Marine or Blackwatch troop, or you can go back to the green zone and start a 'normal' life." It quickly became apparent that they would trade lines.

"Yes. The scanner both pulled up your current medical status for physical and mental health."

"You were chosen because you were both clean of the Mercer Virus and other diseases in general. Also, you were still mentally stable after the events that conspired, which I'm sure horrified many."

"But you're here because you survived and stayed level headed. Others were picked off because they were clean, but not level headed. They are transported in APC's to the green zone."

"Some were found mentally stable, but surface infected. If they aren't cleansed, they will only spread the infection. So they go to the Yellow Zone, for now at least."

"They may be elevated to Green over time. Finally, those that were both surface infected and unstable will be cleansed and then checked for stability so they can reenter society."

"As for you though, you have a decision to make. When these choppers land, you can either line up to be a Blackwatch troop, a Marine, or you can sign a waiver and be released back in with other people in the Green Zone."

"Now for some pointers. Marine armor like mine," he said this, tugging on his clothes. "Is lightweight and allows for more movement."

Duval held his headgear in front of himself. "But my armor provides better protection. You won't move as fast, but you will look pretty awesome and be able to protect yourself from bites as well as bullets." They both saluted the people crowded onto the chopper before the video cut to black. I already had my path picked out. I was just going to live a life in the Green Zone.

When I heard the engine die and saw the doors slide open, I stepped out and glanced at what other people were doing. Of the one hundred people getting off, 50 went to the Blackwatch, 39 went to the Marines, and 11, including me, went towards the exit of the makeshift military base in . It was in Seine-Saint-Denis. It was built around a park in Drancy, France. The place was called Parc de Ladoucette. It probably paid homage to the base in the NYZ Green Zone's Lincoln Meadows. It used the park's community building and armed it up as a sort of central hub.

Massive concrete walls stood about 15 feet high all around the park and courtyard to the community building, which stood in the middle of the base. We were in the massive clearing behind the community building. It was a beautiful, lively green. The structure was built up of bricks with white concrete blocks along the corners and around the several windows. A spire stood about another 15 feet out of the top of the building. Several mean with sniper rifles and automated guns poked out the windows to the spire, watching the streets below. They were all Blackwatch soldiers.

As we approached the entrance, a Marine came by and handed each of us a waiver to sign. I started reading it. Speaking out loud to myself, I read the document. "You are hereby released from any military duty." Was what I read. Down at the bottom, in tiny text, it had an asterisk. In agreement of the conditions, you agree to serve 72 hours in Gentek testing. Remember, only you can bring the cure.

"Forget that…" I said under my breath. I handed the waiver back to the Marine and walked to my second choice. I got in line with the 39 other to be Marines. I didn't want to be associated with Blackwatch, ever. As I approached, a Sergeant was addressing the rest of the people.

A Marine came by, handing out uniforms. They were Urban camo with a black helmet that had a white band around the forehead. A black face mask was for covering your mouth and hiding your identity. I slipped mine on quickly enough, later of course. Then the Sergeant said, "Alright. Due to time contraints, no basic or AIT training will take place. You have already showed and proved your strength by surviving as well as you did. You will be separated into groups of 5 and then deployed on different jobs. He then started counting out by five and giving an order. "Patrol. Patrol. Staying here on guard. Yellow Zone patrol. Yellow Zone base duty. Yellow Zone checkpoint duty. Riot control." Then he approached the last five that I was in. "You'll be on Signal Watch."

Another Marine came up from behind us. All I could see of him was his nose and blue eyes. "Alright. I'll be leading you. Our job is to listen and watch for signals of survival in the Red Zone, then to go in and pull out the survivors. Several checkpoints are in the Red Zone, but it is best to be ready to signals to come from anywhere." With that, we marched off after him. It was explained later that bases in the Red Zone stand for people to come to it and to gather Infected subjects. Ground vehicles will make their way out, but a chopper from either of the other zones is still faster. Choppers in the Red Zone are constantly out on air strike missions or observation.

Since then, I haven't done much. But I have gone out on a few patrol rotations and seen the horror of life in the France Zone. People gunned downed without reason or for little reason. I've seen people thrown in cages, and some people taken to testing facilities. I've taken some people to those facilities. It isn't a good life, but it's the only one I have. In the course of my work, I've been promoted to Private First Class.

Now, about a two weeks later, we've received our first signal. It came from Kadic Academy, Sceaux, Hauts-de Seine, France. I sit in the chopper, surrounded by the five people I've come to know well. I'd tell you their names, but that don't matter much anymore. Every day is a blur of information, just waiting for life to end, or change. I just hope that all my friends are okay. Last year, upon graduation, William just disappeared, never to be heard from again. Yumi graduated and said she'd wait a year. We, as in the group, planned to start our lives in the same University. Today would've been graduation. Sometimes I still imagine that scene. Walking up the courtyard, surrounded by the people I know, love, and miss. I would be wearing a forest green suit with black loafers and a red tie. Walking up to Mr. Delmas, him handing me my diploma, and saying, "Congratulations Ulrich Stern, you're now ready to go to University and begin your new life."