The main battle tank eases up to the curb outside the hotel and I quickly kill the engine. The last thing we need is a crowd of Them surrounding us because they heard the Tempest. Catherine and I get out, close our doors and throw the back door open.

"This is so gross," Catherine comments, hooking her arms underneath the dead Serviceman's as I round the back of the tank.

"Come on lah," I say. "Stabbing the skulls of Infected is disgusting too."

She pulls the body out, laying it on the ground, "Ya, but at least I don't have to touch the bodies after I've killed them..."

I grab the legs of the corpse, closing the door with my foot. "Stop being so scared, can or not?"

Catherine picks up the arms again. "I'm not, I just don't like touching dead bodies lah."

I nod and cup the Serviceman's legs with my arm, using my free hand to open the door before using two hands again.

"Wah lau," Catherine complains as we walk inside the lobby. "Can we hurry up or not? This feels so wrong leh."

A sigh escapes my mouth as we carry the body to the reception desk, laying it on top face up. Catherine wipes her hands on her top then looks at me. "Now what?"

I tilt my head toward the glass double doors. "Make sure the doors are closed, then you can go back up."

"Let me guess...You're going to take his clothes off, right?"

"Then? You think I'm just going to leave the clothes here ah?"

Shaking her head, Catherine walks over to the double doors and shuts them before heading back across the lobby towards the lifts. She presses the 'up' button and waits several seconds before vanishing into the open lift.

I sigh and begin my dubious job of getting the uniform off of the dead man. This is going to be easy, though kind of nasty.

I'm not quite sure why he would have a tactical vest on, now that I think about it, especially when the SAF seemed to be treating this as nothing more than a small riot yesterday. No matter. I begin pulling the vest off.

Using one hand to pull back the right arm and the other to tug at the vest, I get the arm out of the vest, noting a combat knife in a sheath in one the vest's pockets. God, this isn't as easy as I thought it was gonna be. The arm stays still when I let go, which doesn't seem normal. What the hell do I care? It's the zombie apocalypse. Nothing's normal anymore. No, wait, that's just rigor mortis..

Hopping up and over the desk, I do the same with the left arm. The rest of the pulling is easy after that, since I just pull it over the head. Setting the vest aside, I take a look at the rest of the uniform, noting the identification patch things. The right patch, which is actually on my left, reads DAVID and the other reads SINGAPORE ARMY.

My hands move to the top of the jacket and begin unfastening the front closure rather quickly.

I undo the last fastening and... I'm just gonna say rigor mortis is a bitch. The guy's arms are still wide in the air and I've got to get the jacket off... Goddammit. I bend the left arm and pull it in, sliding it out of the sleeve and adjusting it accordingly. That's one side done.

Moving back to the other side, I repeat the process I just did and pull the sleeve away from the arm. Yanking the jacket, the body starts to turn and...

THUD!

I set the jacket on the desk and hop over for the third time. The dead soldier is now lying face down on the ground. Sighing, I flip the body over, that way I can get the remaining three pieces of his uniform.

I untie the boots and pull them off, a foul stench greeting me. "Wah lau leh!" I complain, holding my nose. "Wash your feet or something." I raise the boots up and set them on the desk as well.

Now for the most awkward part: his pants.

My hands make their way to the top of the pants, right at the waistline. I undo the button and pull down the zipper. I just hope that I don't see anything unpleasant underneath...

I move down the feet and start pulling the pants. When they come off, leg holster still attached, I toss them on the desk like I did everything else and hop over for the fourth time.

Gathering up all of the pieces of the uniform, I give the dead Serviceman a short salute, since he's technically helping me out, and walk to the elevator. I press the button and start tapping my feet, impatience setting in.

The door opens after a couple seconds and I step in, pressing the '2' button.

After about five seconds, there's a ding and the door opens. Stepping out, I begin walking back to our sitting area. It's really going to stink in here once those bodies start decomposing. I think a few of their faces are already getting mushy, and those aren't the ones we bashed in.

The chairs come into view, as well as my friends. Catherine's talking to the group.

"...he's siao," I hear her say

"Eh, Catherine," I say, clearing my throat. "Can you you please repeat that again?"

Catherine looks up and Matt nonchalantly waves me off.

"Hey Ryan," Matt says. "We're talking about you being siao, apparently."

"I see." I walk to my room, open the door, and set the weapons and uniform on the bed.

I walk back out and take a seat in between PL and Ben. PL immediately begins looking me over while Ben watches.

"Are you hurt?" she asks, inspecting my T-shirt sleeve. "Is that your blood?"

"That's not his blood lah," Catherine speaks up. "It's some gangster's."

"Gangster?" Matt asks incredulously.

I nod, everyone staring at me. "When we went down to the lobby there were some gangsters there. We tried the diplomatic route-"

"But Ryan just gave up and resorted to shotgun diplomacy," Catherine finishes for me.

"Yeah, literally." I see the other four cock their eyebrows. "They tried shooting us, so I got pissed lor. Blew one guy's head off while he was ranting on and making sick jokes."

Catherine steps forward, having never sat. "We got into a fight with them. Ryan killed four, I killed two."

PL shakes her head in disbelief. "Catherine, Ryan, did you guys feel anything or not? After you guys killed them?"

"After killing them, no. Maybe a sense of relief, but nothing else. While we were fighting, I was damn pissed like hell." I reply.

"Relief that we are still alive, I guess, nothing else though." Catherine shrugs.

I turn to Cerina. "Eh, Cerina, you know anything about the gangs in this area or not?"

"A bit lah," She replies. "Wait, what colour clothes were they wearing leh?"

"Black T-shirts and baggy pants." I described.

Cerina's eyes widen. "They're called the Ninth Gate of Hell, they're the worst, most ruthless gang in this area. You two fought with them?" Catherine and I nod. "Shit lah..."

"Why 'shit?'" I ask, scratching my neck.

Cerina stands up and I get a whiff of some good-smelling shampoo. "They send patrols. If something happen one group, they will send another one to find them." More organised than I thought a bunch of gangsters would be, if that's considered organisation at all.

"How you know this one?" Matt asks.

Cerina shrugs "A classmate told me. But that's not the point lah. We're screwed if they find those bodies in the lobby."

"No we're not," I say. "Catherine and I easily won that fight."

"Ya, but there are a lot of them, Ryan. Like, eighty at least."

Oh shit. That's a lot of gangsters.

I stand up and walk to the community mini-fridge that's set up, pulling out a can of Coke. I pop the top and take a sip.

"So, we're as good as dead," I say, pacing back and forth, taking the occasional drink. "There might even be a rescue team on its way now..."

"And here he is," I hear Ben say. "Planning something."

"Ya, I'm planning something to save all our asses." I could get into the military equipment and then we head down, the new patrol hopefully there. From there, I impersonate a soldier from the Army, Armed Forces or not, and try to get them to turn back peacefully.

It's far fetched, but it's all we've got.

"Eh, what the hell?" Ben says as I walk back into my room, closing the door.

I don't think I'm gonna answer him. Sliding out of my old clothes, I stand in my room, in my boxers... with the door unlocked... Who cares? I'll be quick.

I grab a white undershirt out of the clothes I have, which is thankfully pure cotton, and pull it on. I then slide my arms into the jacket and start fastening the Velcro. Once that's done, I pull the tactical vest on, readjusting it so it's comfortable.

I sigh and bend down to pick up the pants when the door opens. "GODDAMMIT!" I shout. People don't know how to keep doors closed...

Looking up, I see Catherine standing in the doorway, her expression serious.

I start to pull the pants on. "What do you want leh? Can't you see I'm getting changed in here?"

"Just wondering if you were okay after what happened just now with the gangsters," she brightens up. "Wah, that look really suits you ah."

"What look?" I ask.

"The military look, you look like you're going to serve NS or something."

"Ya, I always liked it..." I button the pants and pull up the zipper, then grab the boots. "But I never thought it suited me."

I pull the boots on and bend down to start tucking the pant legs into them.

My silence must've unnerved her or something, since she just walked over and sat on my bed. The pant legs are comfortably in the boots, but still within regulation, and I start tying the laces. That takes a couple seconds and I stand, cracking my neck.

Turning to the bed, I take note of Catherine lying down and examining the SAR-21. I lean forward and snatch it out of her hand.

"Hey!" she says, sitting up. Her hair's a little messed up.

"Get up lah." My thumb jerks back and she reluctantly hops up. I grab the M16 by the carrying handle with one hand and the magazines with the other. I slide the magazines into the mag pouches and sling the M16. The FN P90 won't fit into my leg holster, so that's out of the question. Regardless, I pick it out of the pile of my old clothes and slide it into one of the pants' pockets, hand carrying the SAR-21.

Catherine stands and follows me out as I walk forward to the door, swinging it open.

"Wah," Matt remarks when we get to the circle of chairs. "Look at you, you look like you're going to go serve NS."

"Yeah, Catherine said the same thing," I say, handing him four spare magazines before turning to Ben. "I need the M9."

He nods and holds it out, along with the magazines. I take the gun and slide it into the holster before unslinging and handing him the M16.

"Okay," Ben says, playing with the M16's slide. He shouldn't do that. "What's the plan, Corp?" I cock an eyebrow at the nickname, which causes Ben to point at my sleeve. "The guy whose uniform you took was a Corporal."

I nod. "Our plan is simple. We just go down and wait for them to come."

Matt raises an eyebrow. "Then what?"

"Shoot them, most likely," Ben quietly answers.

"No, that's Plan B," I slowly scan the area, looking at everyone. "I don't want any of you to make your weapons visible to the gang members unless we have to move to Plan B... Now, come on. Let's go."

The six of us start walking to the elevator. At the lifts, Ben's the one to push the button to open the door. We all get in and I push the G button.

"If we actually have to go to Plan B," Matt asks. "Then what?"

"Kill them lah," I bluntly say. "We also have a Tempest main battle tank parked right outside, just in case."

"Eh, Ryan, you might want this," Matt says, handing me the radio.

Thanking him, I take it and put it where it's supposed to be on the vest. "Remember guys, keep your weapons concealed unless we resort to Plan B. Stay behind me and just play along, okay?

There's a ding as the doors open, revealing our rescue team already here. Crap.

"I can't believe this shit," one guy says. They're all wearing purple bandanas over their mouths and have black shirts on. There's nothing defining about them.

"Hey!" One of the gang members notice us walking forward and he raises his FN P90 at us, sniffling. "Army dude! Did you do this?!"

I shoulder the SAR-21 and aim. "This nation is under martial law. I suggest you lower your weapon."

He refuses to listen and shakes the FN P90. "You aren't answering my question, you piece of shit!"

I don't budge. "I have no idea what you're talking about, nor do I have to answer. I'll repeat: lower your weapon or I will shoot."

The gang member lowers his FN P90 and walks forward. "Our friends," He points to the bodies of the men Catherine and I killed earlier. "You know what happened to them?"

I lower my rifle as a sign of trust. That, or I'm just a fucking idiot. "They were like that when I got here." I point back at the others. "As you all can see, I'm escorting teenage survivors. I don't want any confrontations, siam ah."

One of the other gang members walks forward, a Tec-9 pistol in his hand. He raises it at us, "I think we should kill them all, except those bitches." He gestures to the girls.

The first gang member shakes his head. "You want the entire fucking SAF on our asses?"

"You're a dickhead. Straight dickhead," I say, mocking the gangsters.

The guy with the Tec-9 chuckles and walks forward some more, putting his gun to my head. "Shut the fuck up!" He hisses.

Out the corner of my eye, I saw Catherine unleash her new chain-whip. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she sent the deadly steel dart head shooting towards the guy holding me at gun point, the dart tip stabbing into his flesh as the whip wrapped itself around his neck, drawing blood. Catherine pulls at the handle of her whip, forcing it to tighten around the guy's neck, the serrated metal links digging deeper into his flesh. He falls to the ground, screaming in pain while blood flows from the wound in his neck. I hope he dies from that.

The other gangsters rushed towards Catherine, only for her slash at the first two of her assailants with her combat knife, causing them to fall to the ground in a bloody heap.

Time to repay the favour.

I quickly flick the fire selector to full-auto, aim, and pull the trigger just as one of the other guys shoot.

A hail of bullets spray out of my rifle's barrel, smacking into each of the gang members in various locations.

A cry of pain rings out from our side and I spin around in time to see Matt fall to the ground, PL down next to him. I run to them, flicking the safety on as I do so.

"They've been shot lah!" Ben shouts, still shooting. Like I couldn't have guessed that, but I guess he's just trying to be helpful.

I feel even more pissed now that they've hurt my friends. I flick the safety off again and re-aim the SAR-21 at the three remaining gang members, squeezing the trigger three times. One bullet goes into each of the guys and they stop moving, dead.

I look down at Matt, a splotch of blood around his stomach. PL's been let off easy compared to Matt, since she only got shot in the leg.

I flick the safety back on and re-sling the SAR-21 running my hands through my short spiky black hair. What should I do? I doubt there are any hospitals still operating, so those are out of the question. Even if they were, they'd likely be overrun by the amount of people that'll run to the hospital, thinking that they can find the cure for a bite there.

On the ground, Matt moans in pain. Shit, shit, shit...

There's only one group I can think of that can provide medical attention, and they'll probably arrest me for stealing military property and manslaughter.

But it's the only option we have.

"Ben! Get over here lah!" I call.

He runs over, his M16 now slung across his back. "What can I do leh?"

"He'll probably be okay lah, but help him walk to the Tempest and get him comfortable in the back. Hurry up can or not?"

Ben nods and helps Matt to his feet, slinging Matt's arm over his shoulder and picking up Matt's L115 for him before heading out the main doors.

Catherine and Cerina sprint over, bending over PL.

"Is she okay or not?" Cerina asks, concerned.

"Got pain or not?" Catherine questions.

PL grimaces, "Then? Of course got pain lah."

"Can you stand or not?" I ask.

PL unstraps her Guandao and struggles to her feet, using her Guandao as an improvised clutch.

"Can, but my leg hurts like hell." She complains.

"Don't worry lah, we'll get you patched up soon." I push the door open with my right hand, looking back to see how the girls are doing. Catherine and Cerina are supporting PL on either side with her slightly leaning on her Guandao for extra support.

Looking forward again, I see that the back passenger doors of the Tempest already open, Ben is holding the door open. Huh, he's not being useless for once. About damn time... He's even managed to start the Tempest. I'm amazed.

I hop up into the back of the main battle tank and carefully help PL get in as well, taking extra care of her injured leg.

"You two sit back here and apply pressure to her wound." I tell Catherine and Cerina.

They nod and get in while I hop out the other side. I close the door and find an Infected right in front of me. With no time to pull out a gun, I unsling the axe

and ram it through the Infected's neck, blood spurting out onto my uniform.

"Fucking chee bai." I shake my head.

I re-sling the axe and open the driver-side door. Getting in, I close the door and push the gas pedal down, pulling out the handheld military radio from the uniform's pocket and holding it in my right hand. What do I say, though? I know some military voice procedure thanks to Dad, but...

Matt groans loudly as I run over an Infected, causing the Tempest to rock. There are Infected all around thanks to all the noise earlier. It's almost like there's a fucking Mayday parade or something... Oh my god, that's something to say!

"Mayday, mayday, mayday!" I say after pressing the button to start talking, using my left hand to pull the left throttle down, turning the main battle tank to the left.

"This is call sign Leong. Requesting identification, over."

"Umm... Teenagers, over." I say after pressing the button to start talking.

"Say again, over."

"We are teenage civilians, over."

"Did you say 'teenage civilians'? Over"

"Affirmative, over."

"How the hell are you on this frequency?!" Tan exclaims, breaking the voice procedure.

"Requesting assistance, over." I ignore his previous question.

"What kind of assistance? Over."

"Medical," I say. "Two of my friends were shot and one is in dire need of medical assistance. If you can tell me where I can take them, that would be much appreciated. Over."

"Where are you? Over."

"We are five minutes away from the Rise hotel and currently driving on Raffles Avenue, over."

"Other than a hospital, the Armed Forces outpost at Gardens by the Bay will likely have the medical facilitation you need. Leong out."

I slide the handheld radio back into the pants pocket and face palm. How the hell to I get to Gardens by the Bay from here? I sit back up and pull off the name and branch tags on the uniform. They're not mine, and I don't want the military to think that, especially since Leong will probably radio in.

"Ryan, can you get back onto the Sheares-Raffles junction or not?" Cerina asks as I set the tags on the floor.

I throw the transmission into reverse and slowly back out onto the Sheares-Raffles junction.

I turn back to Cerina, noting how bloody her hands are. "Why did you get me to do that leh?" I ask. "Doesn't Raffles take you there as well?"

"Ya, but going by Sheares is shorter lah. Keep going straight down Sheares Avenue then turn right onto Marina Boulevard." She points down the road.

I nod and slowly traverse the main battle tank around, putting the Tempest into drive.

Cerina keeps giving me directions as I drive, and I follow them, going as fast as this damn tank will go. After about ten minutes of driving, she tells me to slow down and make a right onto Marina Gardens Drive.

I turn right and see a couple Servicemen standing behind a makeshift barrier in between two pillars with swirly patterns on them. The Servicemen have their SAR-21As raised at the tank. I pull up further and hop out of the Tempest, my hands raised.

"All we need is medical attention!" I say, walking forward. "You can lower your weapons."

"I'm afraid we can't lower our guns, kid," one Serviceman says, his name tag reading LEE. "We can get your treatment, though."

"Really?" I ask, lowering my hands.

"Ya, we got a radio call saying you'd come. Just drive up to the building with the red cross and one of our very helpful medics will take care of your friends."

Wow, and here I am, thinking this would've been difficult. I thank them and hop back into the Tempest. The Servicemen at the gate quickly clear a path for the Tempest and I drive through it, breathing a sigh of relief.

And that's the end of Chapter five guys. Hope you enjoyed that one. I'm still accepting OCs if any of you want to send another one or two to me via PM, I need two boys and one girl. As for my World of Tanks fanfic, I'm currently in the process of creating my OC form for that. Tankers, expect it to be up in a week or so. Other than that I'll see you guys in the next chapter. Bye!

-NLH.