Chapter 3: Reunion
As the S.T.A.R.S. team made their way across the darkened street, their weapons at the ready, they were met by yet another surprise in a night filled with them. A dark shape hurled its way out from the dense covering of trees, gasping loudly. The form stumbled its way towards them, both of its hands held out in front of it, advancing towards them. In the dim light, nobody could see any detail of the figure, but from the way it walked, coupled with that gasping noise, they could already tell, at least generally, what it looked like. Dan, taking point, darted his Desert Eagle pistol towards the figure, drawing a bead on its head. "Stay back guys, I got this one," he yelled as his sights found their mark on the center of the zombie's skull. At that exact moment, the creature did something completely and totally unexpected. "GODDAMMIT, DON'T SHOOT ME!" it yelled, both of its arms coming up across its face to ward off the expected blow. Dan lowered his gun, as shocked as the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. team was. They'd never heard a zombie talk before. However, as was quickly revealed, they were slightly off with their original assessment. "Jesus CHRIST, Dan, you want to blow my head off, give me some god damn WARNING first, jackass!" The voice, not to mention frequent profanity, could only have really come from the S.T.A.R.S. team's newest (by default, he'd been in the team for over three years, but that was still shorter than the rest) member, Josh. The second thing that gave it away was the black S.T.A.R.S. vest over the blue undershirt, and standard issue forest camouflage pants, Josh's preferred uniform. "Josh. Man, are we glad to see you," Dan said, letting his arms relax to his sides. "Yeah," David said with a smirk. "We figured if anyone would have turned into zombie-chow first, it'd be you." "Sure, sure, David, like you guys weren't running around here looking for me and my mad Glock skills," Josh grinned, glad to see that at least everyone else was still sane. Well, as sane as they had been anyway. Dan motioned the newly reunited group over to the wrecked S.T.A.R.S. jeep sitting overturned on the side of the road. The four gathered around it, and Josh took the opportunity to slump back against the vehicle and catch his breath. "Okay Josh, fill us in, what's your situation?" Dan asked, once they'd given Josh enough time to recover. "Well. I've got three clips total: that gives me. 51 bullets, and I've got my knife. Though, I suppose the knife won't be much help," Josh checked over his Glock 17 as he spoke, chambering the next round of a fresh clip into the weapon, the previous clip laying empty at his feet. Somewhere off in the distance, lightning struck illuminating the area in a flash. A storm was gathering somewhere, and it probably wouldn't be long until it was on them. "No, somehow I doubt that," Nick said, his drum-magazine grenade launcher propped up on his shoulder. "Heck, Dan plugged one with three fifty cal shots, right in the chest, and it didn't go down." "Really? Jeeze, Dan, what are you, slipping, Mr. Sniper God, only hitting 'em in the chest? Heck, even I shot my first one in the face, and I'm the rookie." Josh's smart-ass remark was suddenly punctuated by the sound of something heavy impacting the ground behind the jeep. "Que le fuck?" David said, peering around the side of the wrecked car. When the source of the noise entered his vision however, his eyes were snapped wide open with shock. "Holy shit!" Nick and the other three S.T.A.R.S. looked out from behind the jeep and saw what had scared the M4 wielding agent so bad. No more than three yards behind the car stood a massive figure, clad in a dark black trenchcoat, its empty eyes burning white in the darkness of the sky behind it. The form was easily eight feet tall, though its size was hardly the most imposing feature. A second flash of lightning tore through the sky, and this time the four of them saw for the first time, the horror that would haunt them all from that moment onward. Ghastly, mutant flesh covered its face, torn by a massive wound, reaching up from the left cheek, all the way up through the monster's left eye, removing it completely. Heavy surgical staples held the gash closed, and no blood leaked from it, though it seemed deep. The hideous creature had no mouth, rather a open, hideous grin was plastered permanently on its reconstructed face, its teeth showing to be far too large, and far too pointed. On its shoulder sat a long cylinder, its shape instantly recognizable to the S.T.A.R.S., who had all seen it before, in movies and training handbooks. The tube resting on the monstrous figure's shoulder was an anti-tank Surface-to-Surface missile launcher, and the open end was pointed right at the four shocked agents, as the creature which David thought from the moment he saw it could only have come from hell uttered a single word, its voice rough as grinding concrete, "S.T.A.R.S."
As the S.T.A.R.S. team made their way across the darkened street, their weapons at the ready, they were met by yet another surprise in a night filled with them. A dark shape hurled its way out from the dense covering of trees, gasping loudly. The form stumbled its way towards them, both of its hands held out in front of it, advancing towards them. In the dim light, nobody could see any detail of the figure, but from the way it walked, coupled with that gasping noise, they could already tell, at least generally, what it looked like. Dan, taking point, darted his Desert Eagle pistol towards the figure, drawing a bead on its head. "Stay back guys, I got this one," he yelled as his sights found their mark on the center of the zombie's skull. At that exact moment, the creature did something completely and totally unexpected. "GODDAMMIT, DON'T SHOOT ME!" it yelled, both of its arms coming up across its face to ward off the expected blow. Dan lowered his gun, as shocked as the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. team was. They'd never heard a zombie talk before. However, as was quickly revealed, they were slightly off with their original assessment. "Jesus CHRIST, Dan, you want to blow my head off, give me some god damn WARNING first, jackass!" The voice, not to mention frequent profanity, could only have really come from the S.T.A.R.S. team's newest (by default, he'd been in the team for over three years, but that was still shorter than the rest) member, Josh. The second thing that gave it away was the black S.T.A.R.S. vest over the blue undershirt, and standard issue forest camouflage pants, Josh's preferred uniform. "Josh. Man, are we glad to see you," Dan said, letting his arms relax to his sides. "Yeah," David said with a smirk. "We figured if anyone would have turned into zombie-chow first, it'd be you." "Sure, sure, David, like you guys weren't running around here looking for me and my mad Glock skills," Josh grinned, glad to see that at least everyone else was still sane. Well, as sane as they had been anyway. Dan motioned the newly reunited group over to the wrecked S.T.A.R.S. jeep sitting overturned on the side of the road. The four gathered around it, and Josh took the opportunity to slump back against the vehicle and catch his breath. "Okay Josh, fill us in, what's your situation?" Dan asked, once they'd given Josh enough time to recover. "Well. I've got three clips total: that gives me. 51 bullets, and I've got my knife. Though, I suppose the knife won't be much help," Josh checked over his Glock 17 as he spoke, chambering the next round of a fresh clip into the weapon, the previous clip laying empty at his feet. Somewhere off in the distance, lightning struck illuminating the area in a flash. A storm was gathering somewhere, and it probably wouldn't be long until it was on them. "No, somehow I doubt that," Nick said, his drum-magazine grenade launcher propped up on his shoulder. "Heck, Dan plugged one with three fifty cal shots, right in the chest, and it didn't go down." "Really? Jeeze, Dan, what are you, slipping, Mr. Sniper God, only hitting 'em in the chest? Heck, even I shot my first one in the face, and I'm the rookie." Josh's smart-ass remark was suddenly punctuated by the sound of something heavy impacting the ground behind the jeep. "Que le fuck?" David said, peering around the side of the wrecked car. When the source of the noise entered his vision however, his eyes were snapped wide open with shock. "Holy shit!" Nick and the other three S.T.A.R.S. looked out from behind the jeep and saw what had scared the M4 wielding agent so bad. No more than three yards behind the car stood a massive figure, clad in a dark black trenchcoat, its empty eyes burning white in the darkness of the sky behind it. The form was easily eight feet tall, though its size was hardly the most imposing feature. A second flash of lightning tore through the sky, and this time the four of them saw for the first time, the horror that would haunt them all from that moment onward. Ghastly, mutant flesh covered its face, torn by a massive wound, reaching up from the left cheek, all the way up through the monster's left eye, removing it completely. Heavy surgical staples held the gash closed, and no blood leaked from it, though it seemed deep. The hideous creature had no mouth, rather a open, hideous grin was plastered permanently on its reconstructed face, its teeth showing to be far too large, and far too pointed. On its shoulder sat a long cylinder, its shape instantly recognizable to the S.T.A.R.S., who had all seen it before, in movies and training handbooks. The tube resting on the monstrous figure's shoulder was an anti-tank Surface-to-Surface missile launcher, and the open end was pointed right at the four shocked agents, as the creature which David thought from the moment he saw it could only have come from hell uttered a single word, its voice rough as grinding concrete, "S.T.A.R.S."