This story began as a role play between a friend and I but he decided not to continue it anymore; I truly feel in love with the storyline and the characters so I'm continuing it. The story may seem a bit fast-paced in the beginning; I have been trying to edit it as best as I can to make it flow smoothly. Bare with me until I get to the point where we left off and I have complete control overall charactersand then the true magic begins.
Love,
Lynnie Pop
Immune? How could I be immune? How could anyone be immune to anything like this? There was no known cure, nothing. I was supposed to be some sort of answer to everyone's prayers? Some sort of savior?
"Y-you have got to be kidding me. There's no way. You're wrong. Your tests are wrong." Their machines were calibrated wrong. SOMETHING! There had to be a mistake!
"This is obviously too much for you, ma'am," the soldier moved to some cabinets and drew out a needle. "You just need to rest." Struggling was obviously useless, they expertly stuck me in those restraints and there was no way in hell I would be able to dodge a needle in the arm. He managed to get the needle into the main line and only pushed the plunger down a bit before popping outside the door stopped him and he dropped it. I glanced towards the one-way glass and watched the big guy march out the door before more popping and a bloodied guy came busting into my room.
This could not be happening. This must be some sort of nightmare. I'd wake up next to Fletcher and we'd be going on with our miserable lives. I watched the guy fumble with my restraints and realized, nope, this was real.
Morality was a luxury I couldn't afford. I had to make decisions in split second intervals; I couldn't allow my conscience to weigh down on my judgment. Where once there was a loving man; a husband and a father no more, what remained was a man whose only niche was self preservation.
A pandemic swept the globe, spreading like wildfire throughout the population until there was nothing left. The government declared martial law before it fizzled out. What remained of the military, mostly thugs and power hungry authoritarians, maintained safe zones. They were little more than fenced in portions of ruined cities with armed guards along its perimeters. Some speculated if the fences were to keep the infected out or to keep the non-infected in. It was easy to feel like a prisoner, what with everything being regulated by armed personnel-right down to the meals you eat and the water you drink. No one was permitted to leave the safe zones without proper authorization-in other words, unless you were granted special permissions to leave, it was the military's duty to keep you contained.
There were loopholes, of course, the armed guards were just as hungry as everyone else. Sometimes the right amount of ration cards could get them to look the other way, but that was only the desperate ones. Smuggling was an unorthodox practice, yet no one could deny its importance. Sometimes the military would send out scouts to nearby towns and cities to scrounge for some supplies, but it was the smugglers who were responsible for the influx of useful supplies.
It was a cutthroat lifestyle; everyone sought to advance themselves and didn't give two shits who they screwed over along the way. Where words might've once sorted out a squabble, bullets now took their place. No better way to negotiate than to put a bullet through the head of the motherfucker that tried to hang you out to dry.
I spent a better part of fifteen years running with men involved in the smuggling business. About ten years in, I found that I worked better alone. I had lost too many friends and a lover to my work. You couldn't rely on anyone outside the safe zones but yourself. If I had to run, I didn't have to worry that my partner could keep up. There is never a clear plan on the outside; most of it is improvised-I couldn't expect anyone to follow my lead when I was making everything up as I go.
It finally caught up with me in recent years. My legs didn't work like they used to, my eyelids were heavy, and my body grew weary of being subjected to a constant state of stress. As a result, my reflex and my overall effectiveness suffered. I was tired. I wanted to settle down and live out what years were left to me in relative peace.
It's never that easy.
Work detail was mandatory. Doing nothing draws unwanted attention from the military. Trouble has a way of finding me, no matter where I chose to hide.
"I need you, Phil. I've got no one else to go to. You know I wouldn't be here otherwise."
I paced back and forth across the creaky hardwood floor as I considered the proposal thrust unto me. I owed this fella a favor...What he asked of me was unlike anything I've undertaken. "You're asking me to put my ass out there for you, Ron. I mean-fuck, I know I owe you this, but this is insane. I've never broken anyone out before...Goddamn it. If I do this, I'm not welcomed here anymore. I won't be able to come back-they'll fucking hunt me."
Ron closed the distance between us and clapped a hand on my shoulder, "Trust me when I say that this will change everything. This ain't no normal girl, bud. She's immune. Been bit well over the time it would take for her to turn and she's still breathin'."
My eyes narrowed and I shrugged his hand off my shoulder. "Do you really believe that? You ain't seen it for yourself, how can you know for sure?"
"The military wouldn't keep her around if it wasn't. This is for real. I got in touch with some of my colleagues outside the walls. They're bound for Seattle, got a safe zone out there filled with some like-minded inviduals who'd be elated at the chance to run some tests on this girl."
"What, you don't trust that the military can handle it?" I shook my head and turned away.
"You know as well as I do that there ain't a brain amongst those conniving bastards. They're in over their fucking heads. Can't be trusted to pull something as big as this off."
"Let's say I get her to Seattle, or wherever. What then? Your science...doctor buddies, they're just gonna discover the cure to the end of the world? Excuse me if I sound a bit cynical, but I smell bullshit."
This went on for another hour or two before my arm was twisted. I agreed to feel the situation out at the very least, but I had it in my mind that I would sure as hell going to it down. We approached the detainment facilities-barbed fences with lots of armed guards, the situation changed. My employer must've sensed that I wouldn't go through with it and decided to give me a little more incentive. One moment I'm walking down an empty street, just passing by, getting a good view of the place... Before I know it, I'm being shot at. When I look back at Ron, I see him and two other nameless fellas tossing molotov cocktails at the fences. A siren sounded and armed soldiers poured out of the detainment facility. Gunfire erupted on all sides, but I managed to find some cover in a nearby alleyway. Three multiplied into nine, twenty, thirty...There was a full blown militia fighting the soldiers. Ron had been planning this for awhile, I realized. I was the last piece to the puzzle. I considered making a run for it-I mean, what the fuck, I said I'd do him a favor, not give up my life. In the end, I chose to breach the facility while they were preoccupied with the firefight, mainly because there wasn't any place that I could run, and partly 'cause I was curious.
Took me a little trial and error and a hell of a lot of luck to locate where they were holding her without being discovered. Every hall looked the same and every hall had the exact same doors. There should've been men on duty outside, but all efforts were being focused on the miniature war at their doorstep. I pulled a 9mm from my waistband and chcecked the clip. Six shots... Had to make them count. Anxiety mounted in the pit of my chest as I rounded a corner and was pretty surprised to find one person posted outside one door. Looks like those bastards weren't as stupid as we thought. The poor rookie barely had a chance to even breathe a sound of alarm before I plugged his forehead with one shot. Five left.
Don't fuck this up, Phil. I told myself right before I burst through the door. They fired a bullet right through the center of my abdomen, but the second shot was mine, and I never miss. Got the bastard right between the eyes, splattered the back of his head all over his colleagues. The others were unarmed, one of them was a woman and a young man. Couldn't hold back. I shot them both without hesitation. They had been looking through a one way mirror...I staggered towards it and saw a woman lying on a makeshift bed. Restraints on her wrists and ankles bound her to the table.
"Alright then...I-" The door swung open, bigwig military type came through. He paused, taking in the scene of carnage with dead eyes.
"You bastard...You fucking monster!" He must've missed the gun in my hand, cause he started to rush me without drawing his sidearm. I raised it and fired till the gun was dry. All those medals must've been for decoration, I thought bitterly as I used the wall to support my weight. I entered the isolation chamber and stumbled toward the woman. I dropped my gun along the way... Dunno why. Guess I was a little delirious. I fumbled with her restraints clumsily, finding that my fingers weren't responding the way I needed them to, not to mention they were still slick with blood.
"I'm not going to hurt you." I breathed, "No questions. We need to get the fuck out of here right now before more of 'em show up. Now c'mon." Fuck, fuck, fuck. I was losing blood fast...The wound was a hell of a lot worse than it felt. Couldn't worry about it. Had to keep moving.
He was bleeding all over the place and trying to free me. I should've been grateful and all, but not in this world I was living in. As soon as all the restraints were off I shot from the table and pushed the guy aside knowing he was wounded, he was probably going to die anyway. "Thanks for the help, but... sorry." I pulled the monitors off my skin and the tubes connected to my arms before darting as fast as I could towards the door.
Turns out it wasn't fast at all. I went down like bricks and cursed myself for forgetting. How long had I been unconscious? My legs were uncooperative while I dragged myself up and grabbed the stand that held the IV drip lines and tossed the bags to the side, using the rolling stand as a way to hold my heavy body up.
I pushed through the door and felt my body getting heavier. What was wrong with me?
And, of course, I remembered then that giant soldier guy managed to shove a bit of that sedative into my body and I was beginning to feel like I weighed a million pounds. There was no way of knowing which way for me to go so I just chose a direction and tried to run which turned out to be some sort of wobble-trip-jog type thing. I heard explosions and gunshots outside and wondered what the hell was going on but didn't have time to care. I needed to find a way out and make sure Mr. Dead-on-His-Feet didn't catch me.
