A/N: Thank you ChaoticCrazy for submitting you OC! Guess I'm accepting OCs now? Will try to place them in whenever I can. Just so happens his OC fits the bill for this chapter.

I do not own Highschool of the DEAD

DEAD Silence

Act I: Mercenaries of the DEAD.

Z-Day+1

Seraph International private docks, Shanghai.

"Alright! That's the last bird. If you're not busy, wave goodbye. If you're busy shooting the motherfuckers rushing at you, keep shooting!" Fred shouted into his mike over the din of gunfire. Within the last few minutes of the evacuation, the perimeter was breached and he had to pull the defensive line closer to the evacuation point. "Grenades!"

Everyone either took cover or made their body profile smaller as those armed with underslung and handheld grenade launchers took aim and fired. The sound was deafening as the grenades went off.

"Sound off!" shouted Katy as the ringing in her ears, and hopefully everyone else, slowly subsided.

As everyone checked in with his XO, Fred looked past the smoke and dust brought about by the liberal use of explosives so close to his team. 'Shit. At least another hundred out there and closing a little bit too fast. And that's just from what I can see of the front gate. Great.'

"Fred, everyone's okay 'cept for Bill and Andrei. They're a little bit deaf right now but the medics say their hearing should be back within the next day or two."

"Okay. Katy, I count possibly hundred and up contacts coming down the MSR. How long do you think it'll take us to stow everything into the trucks and be good to drive off?"

Katy grimaced. Fred knew it was probably going to be a bad answer but he waited for one still. "A good forty at the least. Twenty if we just haphazardly chuck them in."

Fred pondered his options and made a snap decision, praying it was the right choice. "Put them in order. I'd rather spend time getting the shit sorted out that having to do it later. I'll set shooters up to buy us that time."

"Right boss. I'll get loading and," she reached out, lightly tapped Fred on his nose, "you start setting up the shooters. If I go down, you'll be the first one I come back from the dead to haunt."

"Yes ma'am," Fred replies with a smirk. Turning to his remaining members of his team, "Shooters, upfront and centre. Got a job for you."

ooooo

Geoffrey Kuribayashi Dees, age twenty-eight, thinks about the plan Fred had laid out for remaining eight shooters, seven marksmen and one markswoman. 'It's a good plan but the areas he wants us to set up shop have too many blind spots.'

He raises his hand as he makes his suggestion, "Sir. The plans all good and all but there's too many blind spots we won't cover. May I make a suggestion, sir?"

"Go ahead Mr Dees," his CO replies with a nod of his head.

Geoffrey points to the water tower a good kilometre from their current position. "That has full view and coverage of the OA. You would also need at the most four shooters on top of that thing."

"Mr Dees, you picked the ideal position for any scenario," his CO slowly says as he begins to rub his temples. "Except this one. I would've done exactly what you had said. But it would take you around ten minutes to be all set and another ten to get the hell off that thing. If we were to make one hell of a hot exit, which I'm sure we will, those four will have three options; have one hell of a time to get to us in time, walk to a rendezvous point or…"

His CO does not finish his sentence because everyone knows what the last option was. "Well then sir, you've got no choice then. Send me."

ooooo

"Well then sir, you've got no choice then. Send me."

Fred's train of thought is derailed for a moment before it goes back on track. He looks at Geoffrey. "Are you sure? Look me in the eyes and say it."

"Send me sir. I can do it," Geoffrey replies with a straight face.

Fred looks at Geoffrey's squad leader who just shrugs. The squad leader then signals, using hand motion, 'Wildcard. Always. You picked. No say.' Fred shakes his head and sighs in exasperation.

"Okay but not without someone watching you back. Ms Lamoureaux, go with Mr Dees and make sure you both come back to us alive. That's an order."

"Sir!"

"Okay. New plan. Two shooters on top of water tower. Everyone else forms a perimeter," Fred quickly says as he looks at everyone's face, stopping last at Geoffrey's. "Are we going to fail?"

"Fuck no!"

ooooo

Water tower No. 115

Against the black sky of the late night sky, one would not be able to spot the two trained shooters climbing up the water tower.

Angelique looks up as she and Geoffrey climb the ladder leading to the top of the water tower. "Where did you get that rifle?" she asks the man of mixed heritage climbing above her.

"This?" Geoffrey asks as he gestures at his MPi-KM. "A gift from some fellas in the Spetsnaz when I was stationed in Russia."

"No. Not that brute of a rifle. The M21. Maple wood, modified Harris bipod and a custom tactical scope?"

"Yes," answers Geoffrey. He's a little surprised someone could tell his grandfather's rifle was made of maple wood, let alone the modified bipod and custom scope he had ordered and attached himself. "Inheritance. Grandfather. Vietnam."

"Ah. A seasoned rifle. Puisse-t-il tirer droit et juste."

"What?"

"Something like good luck. Err. Like an arrow flying and hitting its target."

"I see. Any idea why Lead picked you to babysit me?"

"Bien sûr! I'm like a good luck charm for all you lone wolf types."

Geoffrey can't help but laugh at her answer. "I don't need it. I've always comeback alive from all these 'suicidal' objectives."

"Ah, that may be true but there is more at stake here than just your life."

"Whatever. Too much talking. Job. Focus." Geoffrey was getting a little bit tired of talking. 'And here I was hoping she would be a quiet one.'

"We're at the top now," grunts Geoffrey as he pulls himself up onto the walkway. "Here, let me help you."

"Merci," Angelique thanks him as he pulls her up. As she preps her rifle, she takes in the view below and ahead of her. "Should we handle the ones closest to us or begin to engage the ones furthest?"

"Furthest," he replies as he begins to calibrate his scope and draws its crosshairs over his first target. "Guys on the ground should be able to handle those that are already close by." He follows his target, slowly pulling the trigger all the while. When his rifle barks and the recoil bumps him a little, his target is down. A perfect hole in the middle of its head.

Geoffrey confirms his kill before lining up his next shot. Next to him , Angelique's M39 barks just as loud as his rifle. And just like earlier, another perfect hole, another downed target. The two of them repeat their actions over and over like a mantra. Their faces expressionless. The faces of trained marksmen. The sound of their rifles touching their targets out in the distance was the only sound save for they call out when reloading.

Their repertoire is interrupted by the crackle of their earpieces. "Lead here. Good job. It's pretty clear down here. Now haul ass and get back here." Both shooters stand up and keep their gear quickly, efficiently. Just as Geoffrey begins to hop onto the ladder and begin his descent down, Angelique grabs his vest and pulls him.

"Merde, attends! Look down!"

He looks down to see a group of fifty waiting for them at the base of the water tower. "Well fuck." He taps his ear piece and relays the bad news. "Lead, Dees here. Group of fifty at the base. Can't get down. How copy?"

"Copy. Fifty. Base. Can't get down. Standby."

ooooo

"Copy. Fifty. Base. Can't get down. Standby," Katy replied. She looks at Fred and sees him sitting on a discarded crate, holding his head.

"Fucking A. Just when the fan with the fucking shit stops spinning, someone turns on another fucking fan with shit on it. Fucking A." He looks around, thinking of a solution. He turns to Katy, "Got any ideas?"

"Nope."

"I do sir."

Fred turns to see one of the truck drivers, Nelson Catchings, age twenty two, standing with one foot in the cab, the other on the steps. "Mr Catchings, you have an idea?"

"You might not like it, sir."

"I'm all ears."

ooooo

"I can try to shoot us an area clear enough to hit and start running," Geoffrey suggests.

"Really now? And how many rounds do you have left for that assault rifle of yours?"

"Half a magazine and three more. I can use my pistol too. Got a full clip and five more." He was growing a little irritated.

"Unfortunately, our group of fifty is slowly growing to be a clusterfuck."

Irritated, Geoffrey tries to Angelique to agree to his plan. He adds, "I can also use the M21 to-"

"No. You Americans and your gun-ho attitude. C'est un miracle your armies keep winning. Just wait for them to get us."

Pissed, he exasperatedly raises his arms and says, "You heard what the Team Leader said. Three options. No other-"

Whatever else Geoffrey was trying to say was cut off suddenly as the tower lurched a little. Not a lot but enough to surprise the two of them.

Geoffrey stares at Angelique and she likewise does the same. "Sacré bleu! Lead, get here quick. I think the tower's going to collapse!"

A/N: Now, yes. He could try shooting Them down but at this point in time, all the mercs still don't know that They are attracted to noise (partly why they still liberally use grenades and unsilenced weapons).

Also, if you may have noticed, I have yet to get anyone to say zombie, Them or undead (except the part where Katy tells Fred if she dies, she's coming for him. One can assume as a vengeful spirit or ghost. Or zombie. Does it matter?) Well, they will be deciding what to call Them later in the story.

And for those curious, no, the French translation or any future translations are not accurate as I am using Google-fucking-Translate. If someone has read the translations and finds it inaccurate or totally wrong, please PM me the correct translation.

Again, I am accepting OCs but will only be able to put them in whenever it is possible. Also, I'm looking for a Beta Reader. PM if interested!

As always, please leave a review.