"Ah shit," I sighed.

The man who had been walking discovered my (not exactly) Solid Snake-tier hiding spot. The man was about my height, had military-cut blond hair, blue eyes, and olive drab fatigues with a bandolier strapped around his torso. To me, the man was unmistakable: Tank Dempsey. The United States Marine who I just-so-happened to be playing as before being sucked into the Zombies universe.

"What the hell're you doing?" he repeated.

"Uh... Sitting here?"

"No-fucking-shit," he quickly said. "At least you speak English. When did you get up?"

"I don't know, maybe fifteen minutes ago?"

"Shit," Dempsey said under his breath. "You must've got up after I left."

"Wait, you knew we were here?"

"Yeah, but hold up, kid. I'm asking the questions. How'd you get here?"

"You think I fucking know?" I snapped unintentionally. "I want to know as much as you."

"Calm your ass, maggot," he sternly replied. "Now, where're you from?"

"Pennsylvania. Why?"

"Good, another American," I heard him murmur happily. "The other men, do you know them?"

"Yeah, they're all my friends. Why?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I am the questioner here, not you," he replied with a fierce look. Okay, Jesse. Back off. "Don't interrupt me again. Now, what is your name?"

"Jesse."

"Alright, Jesse, I am-"

"Corporal Tank Dempsey of the United States Marine Corps, I know," I finished, irritated. I wanted to know why he kept asking damn questions, which was quite obvious.

"How do you know who I am?" You fucking outdid yourself this time, dumbass, I thought. Can't explain you were playing a damn video game, and, you also interrupted him. Again.

"I'll explain later. Seeing as you're here, I assume my friends and I are also in the presence of the honorable samurai Takeo, the lovable drunk Nikolai, and the Doctor, correct?"

Tank just gave me this stare as if to say, "How the fuck...?" He didn't say anything, though. A few seconds later, he motioned for me to follow him, turning around.

"Ahhhh, no," I responded. "I need to get my unarmed friends, because there are zombies, right?"

The marine turned and sighed. "Yes, there are fucking freak-sacks, but only at night. As for their unarmed asses, we have weapons." "Fuck," Tank sighed. "Fine. Let's get your friends, even though we have quite a fucking bit of time."

We headed back to the mainframe. I holstered my M1911s, turning on both safeties. As we walked, I turned to Tank. "Do you remember what happened before the swamp?" Damnit! Again, shithead, you know everything about Verrückt and what Richtofen did. At this moment, we were in front of the chain-link fences near Speed Cola, and the others saw me and Tank walking.

"How do you...?" he quietly said as he turned towards me. "No, no I don't."

"Oh," I quickly said. I expected such a response.

We reached the door to the courtyard when he looked at my holsters. "Colt M1911s, eh?"

I nodded in reply, to which he said, "Fine guns if you ask me. If there was any sidearm I would ever want that wasn't the Ray Gun, it'd be a 1911." To this, he unholstered his M1911.

I looked to the marine and said, "Me, too. It's actually my favorite and preferred gun." I noticed he had a Trench Gun on his back. "The M1897, huh? Fine instrument of close-range destruction." He nodded with a smirk, holstering his M1911.

We rounded the steps to the mainframe. The other three saw me and the badass Marine walking, and they became more shocked. I heard Colton murmur something about actually being in the Zombies dimension and his concerns with Richtofen, Luke mumbled something inaudible, but Jon said, "OORAH DEMPSEY!"

Tank was taken back by this, but regained his composure and had a chuckle. "So, what are your names?" the marine inquired.

They all told him their names. "Jon, Luke, Colton, and Jesse," Dempsey repeated. "How old are all of you?"

"Me and Colton are twenty-one, Jon and Luke are twenty," I answered.

"Well, at least you seem like able-bodied men, 'cept the pale one," he pointed towards Luke. "Well, I am sorry to inform you that there is an apocalypse of the maggot-whore kind that seems to follow us, so you three," he pointed at Jon, Luke, and Colton, "need to get some more fitting clothes, the freak-sacks' scratches aren't pleasant, and some weaponry. Who here, besides him," he pointed at me, "has experience with firearms?" Jon and Colton raised their hands.

"Colton has some experience, I gave him some lessons on proper firearm usage. Jon's a hunter, so he's good," I said to Tank. "Luke, however..."

"Okay... Follow me." He told our group, cutting me off.

Tank took us back to the Z-C teleporter, where a certain drunken man was "standing" guard. He saw Tank leading our group and said, "Hey, hey! Is it me, or do I see five Dempseys? Bah! I'm just drunk."

"Au contraire, my Russian friend. Four new bloods," Dempsey informed Nikolai.

"Oh really? Well, Nikolai must not be drunk enough!" Nikolai paused after taking a gulp of vodka. "Where did you find them?"

"They were on the mainframe. Just... laying there, unconscious," the reply came, disbelief still soaking Dempsey's words.

"Looks like you need more vodka!" the care-free drunk exclaimed. "But not mine. It's okay vodka, no one will ever touch you exept me," he whispered to the now-caressed vodka bottle.

Luke and Jon started laughing, I smirked, and Colton was emotionless, but I thought I heard a chuckle escape his fallible "stoic" posture. Nikolai gave Luke a glare, possibly because Luke laughed harder than the rest of us, then Tank motioned to continue following him.

We went into the building containing the Z-C teleporter, and to my left I saw a man in an Imperial Japanese officer's uniform. Takeo Masaki was sitting on the stairs to the catwalk, his eyes closed. I knew how perceptive the samurai was, so I expected him to notice the four extra pairs of feet without opening his eyes. Sure enough, he did.

"How did these four get here, Dempsey?" Takeo asked the marine, staying still.

"I dunno, Tak," Tank replied. "Found 'em on the mainframe, knocked out cold. Probably one of the Doc's fucked up experiments."

Takeo merely nodded his head in either agreeance or acknowledgement, I couldn't tell which, though likely the former. Tank then asked the honorable bushido to take my friends to get weapons and more appropriate clothing. I mentioned that Luke, who I referred to as "the blonde one," would need to learn how to use a gun, to which Takeo acknowledged before he stood, opening his eyes at last. He led my four friends up to the catwalk to get guns and appropriate clothing.

I was already armed, however, so Tank decided to take me elsewhere in the Z-C teleporter area. Actually, he took me not to somewhere, but to someone.

Tank took me to an office, one that once belonged to Ludwig Maxis, as stated by a plaque above the door. This was where Quick Revive usually was, but... there were walls. Tank ushered me in to the office, so I opened the door and walked into the office. Tank, too, came in the office, closing the door behind him. A few feet in front of me in the disarrayed office was a desk, its chair facing away from us. Behind that was a blue soda machine. The chair was occupied, as when Tank closed the door, an all-too familiar voice rang out.

"Vhat is it now, Dempshey?"

Just when the doctor was about to start reviewing his calculations and calibrations for any possible errors, the damned marine walked in. Clearly, the marine showed yet again that he has no manners.

"Vhat is it now, Dempshey?" the doctor asked with clenched teeth, annoyance seething through them. The back of the chair was facing the American, but Edward was just as irritated as if he was facing the marine.

"Brought you a visitor," Dempsey replied.

"Who, Nikolai? I already told him vhere ze vodka is."

"Just fucking turn around, Kraut," the American snapped with some impatience.

Edward hated that derogatory word. Kraut. He wasn't some kind of condiment! Out of sheer annoyance, the doctor spun his chair around rather sharply to see the boisterous marine standing next to another, armor-clad man. At least it seemed like armor.

"Und who ist zhis?" Richtofen asked.

"One of those men," Dempsey replied, the stupid grin on his face never faltering.

"Shtupid American," Richtofen grumbled. He turned towards the newcomer. "Tell me. Who are you?"

The other man opened his mouth to reply, but Dempsey promptly interrupted.

"Jesse, meet Doctor Edward fucking Richtofen, the dickbag that brought you and your friends here!" the marine shouted, ridiculously. "Dicktofen, meet Jesse, one of the four Americans you brought into this hellhole!"

The American was seething inside, the doctor concluded, based on his analysis of the marine's actions. His perceived humor was only present because he knew he as infuriating Edward. Patience is a virtue. One that Dempsey raped like the brute he was.

"Get ze fuck out, Dempshey. I vill tell you once, und only once: it vas not my fault," the doctor said, anger seething off of him. Keeping his composure was something he was good at. "Go, before I cut off your balls und feed zhem to ze minions!" The voices were only good in getting his point across, as they were talking then. He hated them any other time.

"Jesse, was it? You stay, I vish to talk to you. Dempshey, fick dich und aussteigen."

Dempsey eventually got the message and left, leaving the doctor to his devices of questioning. He looked at the young American and gestured to a knocked over chair.

"Sitzen," he commanded. Once the American called Jesse stood the chair upright and sat, Edward started.

"So... Tell me, how do you get here?"