Chapter 3

'Most people would rather face the light of a real enemy than the darkness of their imagined fears.'

- Max Brooks

"Get the president into that plane now! Epps!"

"Yeah!" The dark skinned man said, coming over to his friend and superior.

"Get all the other ranking officials to the Autobots now! We can't risk them going down!"

Nodding, he turned away, saluting the Major and ran off to complete his orders, yelling at the top of his lungs. "Alright! Let's move it people! Onto the plane! Go! Go! Go!"

William Lennox was ushering the president alongside his many bodyguards into the shuttle, Skyfire. The sudden and so far uncontrolled outbreak of the flesh virus was trapped on his mind, the sounds of gun lighting up the air behind him as his men held back the attackers.

He hated putting them in the front line but he could not risk the President's life.

For now, the Autobots were the human's best bet of protection, although they did have their own war on their minds, they would help protect the humans… right? If not… they might as well drop their guns now and turn around with their hands up.

Will waited until the last of the soldiers, officers and high ranking government officials bordered the shuttle and was about to retreat into it himself, before a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Will's eyes widened as he took in Agent John Keller's form. Keller was breathing shakily, his body leaning against Will for support, a large black blood covered wound on his arm.

Still unable to breath, Will looked at his friend. When did this happen… and how? Grabbing his friend, the solider turned to look into the shuttle. "I need a medic!"

"No…." Keller's voice was hardly a breath as he shook his head, already knowing he was doomed as the hand covering the slash mark on his arm proved. He was shaking, fighting back something. "Will, I'm… I'm leaving you… responsible for the Autobots…."

Keller's voice was beginning to turn into a growl, his left eye turning to a glazed white, his head rolled on his neck before he shook his head, trying to snap out of it. "Keep… the president safe... I... I trust you"

With his order stated, Keller backed away from the shocked Will, pulling a gun from his pocket with shaky hands. "Now… go! Before something-" A snarl in his voice cut him off. "-happens!"

Knowing what was about to happen, Will nodded and saluted and stood to attention for Keller with a last respect. "It's been an honour sir."

Trembling, Keller nodded, placing the gun to his own head, his other eye began to whiten. "The honour was… mine. Now… go."

Lennox nodded and turned his back on the man. Unable to bare what he knew was about to happen. He quickly slipped his helmet off his head and held it to his chest, tilting his head down.

Bang.

The sound was louder than anything other shot he had ever heard: wether it was because he was so close, or not, Willam couldn't stop to think. He took a deep breath, daring to glancing over his shoulder at Keller's limp form.

Epps appeared at the door of the shuttle, holding onto the side. "Will! Let's go! Come on! We've got to get out of here! NOW!"

Taking another deep breath, Will forced his helmet back on his head, eyes still glued to Keller's form on the ground, he willed Epps to grab him and drag him into the shuttle because his legs would not move anymore. Where would they go from here? They were surrounded by zombies. Was there was a cure? There had to be... But where?

"Captain Lennox get your ass on this shuttle NOW!" Epps once called out though the sound of the starting engine.

Eyes narrowed, Lennox ground his teeth, turning and jumping into the shuttle. "Epps!" His voice was weak and a little higher pitched then it should be.

"Yes sir?!" His second asked.

"Where was the start of this? There must be a scientist that created this… what was his name? It sure as hell didn't just pop out of nowhere…."

Will trailed off, just now remembering his wife… his daughter… his little sweet Annabelle. Could he get to them? And get them both to the Autobots? Or were they both already…

The thought of them being… one of these monsters made his knees weak, he sat himself down next to Epps, the feel of Skyfire taking off below his feet.

"-one of them."

"What?" Will had been so stuck in his thoughts; he had blocked out Epps' words.

Sighing, Epps repeated.

"One scientist escaped the outbreak in Washington. We have no clue how it spread out so far, but the scientist was saying that Dr. Radar Johnson had been the one to originally create the virus, attempting to create a cure for cancer. But she was the sole survivor, managed to kill the scientist -or so she thought- before running like a mad woman out of the building."

Epps choked on a laugh, looking over to his friend, hoping he was smiling, however that was not the case. Will Lennox looked deeply worried, scrubbing a hand over his face.

The other man continued. "Unfortunately, her escaping put the rest of the compound at risk and the building was put complete in lockdown. That was, until they broke out."

"Something tells me these… things… are smarter than the movies show them."

Epps nodded in agreement, laying his head on his hand. "We need to speak to this scientist. Who was she exactly?"

"Dr. Shelby Romia. Sad story, really, she was scratched by Johnson. Managed to tell a cop about the virus and where before she was overcome by it."

So in other words, they had no leads, and no place to start.

The only hope had died.

Maybe he was getting too far ahead, he had a bigger problem to start with first: and that was getting the president to Diego Garcia, securing the island so none of the zombies could get into the island.

He thought over a plan as the shuttle took off, the island was their best bet of protection, with the Autobots and ocean surrounding it, if they eliminated any Zombies that may be on the island beforehand, it could be safe.

Now soldiers were stationed at the docking centre for any ships that may enter the island, checking for infections.

They could not bring everyone onto the island, mostly the families of higher ranked, they could build a small safe village and their own windmill or another way for electrical supply...

But again he was getting ahead of himself. He was Captain William Lennox, now secretary of defence... Wait... Was he? Whatever he was, he had a job to do, heaving himself up; forcing the un-dead from his mind, William took to marching across the shuttle. For filling his order in hopes of making John Keller proud.

Lights flickered; the once packed hallways now abandoned, flasks laid scattered across the tables and floors, sending their once treasured liquids dripping near silently to the ground. Puddles moved and moulded together, creating who knew what?

The toxicity alarm had long since burned out, the once bullet proof glass now shattered, random doors to random labs sealed shut to keep the occupants safe from whatever mistake had been created inside.

But the horror had already escaped.

The horrors: milling about the halls, some trapped in their own lab room, unable to leave because they no longer possessed the inelegance, nor the memory to enter a simple open code.

The horrors had long since given up: having already feasted upon the last remaining scientist, so now they remain dormant, walking around minding their own business, doing whatever zombies do without food to eat.

Past the bloodied halls, the last remaining light struggles to stay bright, the only one shining down the one hall where it had all began, a spot where light met its eternal enemy: darkness.

The point of no return, where the deadliest of the zombies manifest, the oldest victims. A place where they can cower from the light that blinds their already rotting eyes.

The virus already eating away at their skin faster than the zombies they created, and soon more of the horrors will wonder to find their place within the rooms where no lights will illuminate them, when their bodies begin to rot away, slowly, leaving only bones in its place.

Locked away in a room, the first of the horror roamed, seeming to search for something as it's white eyes darting around the darkness, eyes that were built to see past the dark, shaky, black blood infested hands run across a table, knocking various things to the floor, leaving behind a trail of clumpy, black fluids in its wake: it's one track mind seeming focused on something.

A clump of shredded skin peeled away from its host, the virus already working overtime to consume the skin: its addiction.

As the skin plummets to the ground and hits with a sickening splat, the black blood began to seep over the once spotless floor.

And then it moved.

A hidden command- Or a last hope, the pile of black goo moved as one, slowly, but carefully back to its still host, scattering up its damaged leg, only to bleed through the dried skin, retuning to its post.

The first horror seemed to wait until its blood had returned, before continuing on its search, stubbly, shaky legs drag across the floor to a new spot, a clump of red hair falling before its eyes, and still, The Horror paid no mind, looking strait though the interference to a specific drawer above its head.

Claw marks trail from its jaw line to the tip of its hairline, dried blood caked within its lines, the black moving blood already working overtime to consume the wound, ever so slowly, more skin disperses from its face.

No lips remain on the scientist face, black blood spreaders across the tattered lip line, seeming asleep, having fed to much already.

The zombie looked up at the cabinet, limping it's body closer as it reached up, only to rethink its motive and bring it slowly back down. It's eyes seemed to whiten more as the creatures teeth clatter together, a feline hiss escaping its torn throat. The first Horror snapped its head impossibly fast in the opposite direction, and began to make its slow decent across the room once more.

The First knew about the trapped soul, suffering within its mind, pushed so far back that it could not control it's body anymore, even if the captive gave it all it got.

A whine filled the silent air, the mindless creature turned its hand palm side up, looking over the ripped nails and shredded skin.

A mindless creature in control.

A mindless creature with a plan.

I can see myself move, but I can't feel it, I watch as my body killed countless people, people I knew, people I found to become my friends.

Like Shelby.

I watched, as ... I killed one of my only friends, but it wasn't me, I wasn't in control, like watching a horror movie, you know how it plays out. One after another, each unfortunate victim dies because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and here I am, watching unable to do anything about it, unable to help those I killed.

The only thing I can hope for is that this is a dream, an Hallucination from the injection. I can only hope,

Please wake up.

-Dr. Radar Johnson.

TBC

Hope you liked it!

-Alisha