A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry about the Hiatus, but you read my first A/N, so you know why. Anyway... this is just a short chapter, so I can get things rolling again. And remember... Review!
"SHIT!" Marcus screamed. He jumped from the side of the catwalk as a large explosion erupted from behind him. He discarded the pin of the now spent gernade as he hit the ground, feeling little pain due to the effects of Juggernog. A crawler then unexpectedly jumped onto his head from the catwalk. "AGH! Dammit!" He threw the crawler off of him. Since he sucessfully linked the final two teleporters before getting into this mess, he picked up the crawler by the collar of it's uniform, and brought it with him, all the while trying not to get hit. He dropped the crawler, proceeded up the metal stairs and studied the Pack-A-Punch machine contemplatively. While thinking of how to work this strange machine, a peppy little tune spewed out of it.
"Friends, neighbors, ladies, gentlemen, if you're feelin' underpowered, I'll help you make amends. Stick your weapon in the slot, and let it change your luck. Few things in life are guaranteed, but I promise this won't suck: Put your fists into the air and raise a rebelled yell! There's lots of bad'uns out there you need to send to hell! With Pack-a-Punch, I have a hunch, your problems will be gone, but if you end up on the ground, sing a country western song. Pack-a-Punch! Everybody! Pack-a-Punch! Yee-haa! Pack-a-Punch! Pack-a-Punch! Pack-a-Punch! Everybody! Pack-a-Punch! Pack-a-Punch! YEE-HAA! Pack-a-Punch! WAA-HOOOO!"
"Well then..." said Marcus, clapping his hands. "If that didn't sum anything up, I don't know what did. To be safe, Marcus looked at the crawler, which was bouncing back and forth to the jingle. "Let's get crackin'!" Marcus said, a he tossed his PPSh into the machine. A red 'Please Wait' flag swung up on the side as the machine let out a 'Ding!', and the now Pack-A-Punched PPSh came out. Marcus marvelled at the weapon. It was so much newer looking. It gained silver engravings, and a much nicer wood stock. Engraved on the side of the body were two words: The Reaper. "Nice..." He said, chambering a round. The crawler looked equally dumbfounded. "Welp, you've served your purpose." He said, raising the Ray Gun to the crawler's head. The crawler let out a noise like most of the zombies did. A half-monaing half-yelling
"NO!" Marcus looked puzzled.
"Dafuq?" He said. The crawler frantically shook it's head like the zombies usually did.
"NO!" Marcus was beyond confused. Here he was, considering himself a full-fledged zombie slayer because of -He looked over his shoulder o the wall where he marked how many days he has been in the facility- The two months he's been here, and here he was talking to a crawler.
"Whaddaya mean 'no'"? The crawler flailed what looked like a handshake gesture. "You wanna meet me?" It was still shaking it's head. "Oh. Fine. You can live." The crawler stopped shaking it's head. Marcus walked to the box, crawler in tow. He kicked the box open, and the crawler stopped behind him. The weapons cycled as per usual, and stopped on something Marcus had never seen before. It was yellowish, with a wood stock. A single, long glass cylinder enclosed by curved yellow bars made up the barrel. Electricity pulsed in the barrel, waiting to be let out of the wirey muzzle. Grabbing the gun, Marcus felt another flashback. He passed out, the crawler flailing in panic.
Meanwhile...
Maxis was beyond frustrated. It had been over three months, and no sign of Marcus. The last time the Temporal Rift Detector went off was when he left, and later reappeared in 1942. Everything was going according to plan, other than Marcus missing. Maxis knew by now he would have had accessed his mission log, and was fighting at Der Reise. He just hoped he would bring back the research papers. Having the guys down at munitions mass-produce the DG-2 would be beyond helpful. He could finally stop Richtofen.
"Daddy...?" Maxis looked towards the door.
"Samantha!... Come in, my child."