The fires of war had not been extinguished by the splitting of a million atoms, nor the destruction of a few billion lives. They had only been delayed. Just a month after the greatest feat of destruction mankind had ever seen a new war was starting. It would not be the last.
There was a palpable tension throughout the command center, as they had lost contact with the first ground team they sent out. Radios were silent, global positioning had been disrupted, and the helicopter that had carried them was nowhere to be found. The president was furious. This was the last thing he needed. Not only were those men under his direct command, but this would make him look weak to his opponents within the Enclave's remaining power structure.
"How do we just lose an entire ground team?" He growled, while leaning atop his desk in a manner best described as predatory.
Jenkins stepped forward with all the information they had. "Well sir, it seems that all communications have been lost with the west coast completely." The president's glare only intensified.
"The entire West Coast? How!?"
Jenkins had no answers, only speculation by people far above his pay grade. He hoped communications would come back up soon.
"God I hope the comms come back soon"
Jensen stated as he and his fellow troopers kept watch over their camp for the night, watching for more of the Legion's troops that had been attacking them spottily over the last few hours. Jensen's men were well equipped, their armor impervious to gunfire and containing waste recycling facilities allowing them to survive indefinitely. But the loss of three members was taking its toll.
"Don't worry boss" said a trooper.
"They'll have a copter out here in no time".
His enthusiasm was not shared by the other surviving member though. He only offered a grunt, and went back to patrolling their makeshift fortress. A small building, apparently a parking garage judging by the sign out front. The few cars that had been in the shop were swiftly used as barricades along with the wreckage of their helicopter. The makeshift cover had served them well, blocking any attempt by the ground troops to reach their position.
"Any idea what this stuff in the sky is Sarge?"
A large cloud bank obscured sight of the sky for as far as their helmets could magnify, faintly glowing green.
"No idea"
Jensen replied, wondering if the jury rigging the lab boys had done would protect them. His Geiger counter ticked faintly in his ear, having been built into the suit. It didn't read particularly high, but any radiation was worse than none. He resumed scanning the tree line for more threats, and wondered how long the clouds would stay.
Back at the command center, the first recon jet flights had come home after searching for the troopers. Their reports were grim.
"So you are telling me that our sensors are being blocked by clouds?"
The president inquired, having skimmed the reports. Luckily for Jenkins, he had had time to calm himself while they were out.
"Well yes, sir, but these clouds aren't ordinary water. They seem to be highly radioactive; When our pilots flew close to them, their Geiger counters went mad. The readout was at nearly a thousand rads a second."
This gave the president pause.
"A thousand rads? That would be fatal within seconds!"
Indeed it was, as the pilots who flew too close to the cloud had found out. Three were in the clinic having almost as much rad-away in their systems as their own blood, while one pilot who had tried to fly within them was in the medical lab; comatose and strangely stable.
"It is sir, but it is only within and around the clouds that the levels are that high. On the ground they would barely set the counters off at just over three rads."
A pause while the president thought.
"So the ground team has no idea what is above them?"
"No sir."
"And it could just come down at any time?"
"Yes sir."
A moment passed, and the president pinched the bridge of his nose.
"God help them then. They'll need it."
"God help us all, sir."
After a day without contact, the squad was cautious. After a week, they were beginning to get worried. Now it has been two weeks, and one of those has been filled with radioactive rain. Add that to their dwindling rations, and sparks are beginning to fly.
Sergeant Jensen had locked his armor for the night. Well, his clock said it was night anyway. They hadn't been above ground in ninety-six hours. Those clouds had finally released their payload, and the troopers had moved into the basement of the garage. Even with an entire building above them, there were enough rads seeping in to kill anyone without proper protection. Good thing the techs had rigged all of their armors up then. Jensen wondered when -or if- the rain would stop.
"Sergeant!" Exclaimed a trooper to his left who was watching the entrance through a camera they had found and fixed.
"What?" He replied, his voice entirely too loud because of his suit's speakers.
"There's a man wandering around outside - it looks like he's glowing or something!"
"What do you mean "glowing"?" He asked, unsure if it was radiation or the trooper's lack of sleep. Probably the former.
"He has a green glow around him, like the fuel for the cars upstairs" The trooper replied.
"Let me see" Jenkins said, walking over to the screen.
There was a man outside, and he was actually glowing. Not just glowing, but radiating light, like some monster in a cheap horror movie. His clothes were tattered, having holes throughout. His skin seemed to barely hang on his bones. But the worst part had to be his face. His eyes were completely gone, replaced by mottled grey skin and glowing green light. His teeth were gone, and his hair only existed in memory.
"What. The. Fuck." Jensen had never seen anything like this before except in monster movies. Even the wasteland creatures they had seen were not this ghoulish.
"What should we do sir?' The trooper asked, unsure of whether he wanted to see the screen again.
"We need to record this, the science team has to see this." Jensen looked away from the screen and paced back to the wall. He wasn't going to look again.
The trooper started recording to his suit's camera, but he shut his visual feed off. He didn't want to stare at the once-man any longer than he had to.
Back on the oil rig, they were making a similar discovery to the squad. A pilot had been in the med lab for a week undergoing tests to figure out exactly what was happening to him.
"So doc," He asked, his voice raspy. "Any Idea what's happening to me?"
"Well, from what we can tell, you've contracted severe necrosis throughout your cutis and subcutis, as well as losing your ability to produce keratin"
"In English, Doc."
"Your skin is dying, and you can't grow hair."
"Anything else?" Truthfully, he was worried about the first more than the second. He was pretty sure he needed skin to live. Pretty sure.
"Your body temperature is also nearly nonexistent, and you are emitting miniscule amounts of radiation."
That threw him for a loop, no body heat should mean he was dead. Ignoring the radiation thing, of course.
"So I'm dying?" He asked the doctor.
"Technically, no." The doctor replied. "Your skin is dying quickly, but is almost coming back at the same speed, and your body seems to not need a metabolism anymore. Your cells regrow in the presence of radiation instead of normal chemical means."
"So I'm a zombie or something?" He didn't want to be a zombie, he'd have to kill himself.
"No, no. Nothing like that. You are just not human anymore."
'Not human?" He asked. He liked being human. It was what he'd spent his entire life doing. He had no idea what he'd do If he wasn't one.
"Not fully, anyway. You seem to be mutating into a subspecies. Maybe even one that is hardier than normal humans! I mean, just think of the espionage benefits that not having body heat would give. Not to mention the ability to heal from radiation! Why, I'd bet that you are the most useful thing we have right now!"
That comforted him slightly. But he wondered what that actually meant, seeing as how he was the only subject on the rig. He decided to ask to see the president later, once he had finished his REM tests.