This is a private roleplay between two very cool people.
So, unless you are Dexter or Canni. Please do not post.

Cherries:

Name: Lee Baxter
Age: Thirty-one
Occupation: The lead scientist previously working on the serum for a military weapon. Discovered while in his second year of college, Lee was asked to help for his deep knowledge, and his debts would automatically be paid off for college and a few other problems with the law. Now a member of the specialist search party dispatched to HS11 for his skills outside lab work.
Hair: Black-blue toned, depending on the light. Layered messily and a little past his shoulders, usually in a loose pony tail but often it falls out or is in his eyes even when most of it’s back.
Eyes: A pale and dark combination of blue. In a slight fan-pattern of varying tones of blue that spreads from pupil to sclera rather than just end.
Height and Build: Six and a half feet tall, around one hundred forty to one hundred-fifty pounds. Very thin, but is very strong despite his outward look. Lanky arms and legs, and he usually has a bad or awkward posture.
General clothing: ((Other than his lab clothes and the usual white coat)) Most of the time he wears a black or gray buttondown shirt over a black or green short-sleeved shirt, and blue or black jeans. He switches from black to brown hiking boots and running shoes, and a black or brown belt. Most of the time he wears black-framed rectangular glasses, as he hates contacts.
Personality Traits: Extremely patient, Lee rarely gets angry. It helps while staring through a microscope or watching the habits of a rat with a cold. When he does get angry, though, everyone knows it, though he tries not to take it out on anyone. Calm and collected, he is never intimidated by someone just because they are bigger or louder than he is. He is well-trained in knife handling, but would rather avoid using a gun. Mostly quiet unless spoken to, Lee prides himself in his work, but likes to get out and be active as much as possible. Raised in an abusive adoptive family, he learned at a very early age to take care of himself, but also to hate himself enough not to pay much attention to his body. He has few friends, but the ones he has are true friends he would give his life for if the situation arises. He does not know specific hand-to-hand fighting techniques, but learned his own style as he grew up. Always a good listener, he will remember anything told to him, and is a very good friend if allowed to be. Though he is friendly, he hates people who lie or hurt others. He never expected to find himself working for the military or government, especially after his less-than-friendly run-ins with the law several times in the past, yet he is, and he has never thought back on his family since.

Name: Ariana Kinsey
Age: Twenty-Eight
Occupation: A surgeon, who was about to enter her Trauma fellowship when she was laid off due to funding cut-backs. Currently employed as a search and rescue medic deployed in base HS11 - in hopes of having her schooling debts paid off.
Hair: Copper red hair that curls down to just above her ribcage. Usually kept in a high bun or pony tail to avoid it getting in the way.
Eyes: A complex blue – a darker rim with a lighter blue in the middle. White flecks are sprinkled in her eyes, along with a golden ring around her pupil.
Height and build: Standing about 5 feet 6 inches she weighs in at 138 pounds. Not a strong build, but very strong legs due to all the running around during rounds at the hospital. Fairley endowed, but not to the point where her curves get in the way.
General Clothing: Besides scrubs, you can usually find her in a simple get up of jeans and a tee shirt. Not one to dress up, she prefers solid colors like black, green, and red. Also, her handy dandy running shoes.
Personality traits: Calm when working and handles stress well – you don’t go into trauma surgery for nothing. Has a hard time when dealing with authority figures – especially when she is in any sort of trouble. This is probably the only time you’ll ever catch her in tears as she isn’t a very outwardly emotional person. She is simply, and prefers her life to be that way.
Raised in a trailer park, she was the first in her family to go to University - making her a person who values her life - but in the same breath, someone who is willing to do anything to get by...even going into a zombie playground.
She loves her family, but prefers not to see them as she can’t handle incompetent people, or those who only get in the way.
Not a military person at all, she can handle a scalpel better than a knife. Knows how to defend herself in a fist fight due to the roughness of her neighbourhood growing up – but any real combat skills are beyond her.
A generally nice person, usually willing to help people out, but won’t think twice about leaving you alone if you cross her. Has great instincts when it comes to meeting new people. And loves cats.

Name: Thomas Marks
Age: Thirty-four years
Occupation: Special Agent - currently deployed in sanction HS11.
Hair: Brown, clipped short
Eyes: Sleet gray, but can look black when he is angry.
Height and Build: Built, well structured. Standing about 6'2'', and coming in at 198 pounds. All muscle mass of course.
General Clothing: Military clothing...lots of guns.
Personality Traits: He is smart - creative. Not in the 'Here let me write you a poem' sort of way either. He knows how to make do with what hes got to survive. He's good at giving orders, and leading the group.
Someone to rely on, who will keep you alive - if you listen to him that is.
He is mean. He is not exactly 'nice' to anyone and is certainly not the type of person you to go for advice or comfort. Not necessarily cold to the world, he is simply unable to give support other than barked orders or snide remarks to those of a lower rank or status than himself.
He is a very good teacher. Smart in the aspects of hunting, spying, fighting, gun and knife techniques, he teaches others who are not as experienced as he is but avoids subjects like science, math, etc. But he may be a good teacher, it hardly means he is a patient one.

Lee Baxter was watching the world fly by when he heard the voice of Special Agent Thomas Marks. He was talking---or yelling, as Lee would put it---to another younger man who had been issued to the specialist search party. The copter was loud, but not so loud he had to yell. Hardly really paying attention, Lee figured Thomas was talking about a past fight or problem he got through using his knowledge of the land. The sun was shining around the buildings of HS11, the district that had been overrun by the ‘undead‘, as most would put it. Zombie was a word that came to Lee’s mind, but then, it was the easiest way to describe them. He knew otherwise, as he had created the drug that had turned them all into something no one had anticipated.

Leaning his elbow on the window, Lee ran his hand through his black hair. Staring at the ground, he could see no movement. Only deserted cars, a few fires from survivors long gone, some dark stains on the gray roads or sidewalks from massacres between the living and reanimated. Few street lights were on, some flickering and some giving their yellow and orange glow to the sights below. With the blades chopping the air above and behind them, Lee thought he would be able to listen to that instead of their commander going on about his previous exploits and saviors. Lee knew damn good and well Thomas had his share of failures over the years, but like anyone of higher status, he was keeping them out. Lee rubbed his eyes, tired from the flight to the city but well alert. Voices were around him, but he couldn’t hear their conversations. Turning to face the walkway between seats, he leaned forward.

They had been sent in to HS11 to retrieve the search party that vanished a week before. Lee had been recruited as well, being the lead scientist that had generated the serum that caused the outbreak, but not blamed as it was an after-effect of the general hopes the government had in mind in the first place. He was also the only one who really understood it and how it would change those infected. Thomas Marks was blatantly against Lee tagging along, calling him a ‘burden’ and someone who would ‘hold back the team’ because he was ‘just a scientist’. Lee had cringed at every one of those words, that seemed to be shot back at him as to hurt him rather than simply be stated as a fact or opinion. But Marks’ commanding officer had had the last word, and Lee was sitting in the front of the cabin, Thomas only a few people down and across the isle.

Lee disliked Thomas. He disliked almost everyone, but held a special hatred for those who classified him as merely a scientist, someone who could only research and learn rather than fight and play with, as Thomas referred to it as, ‘the bog boys.’ He could keep up with even the best of them, and he was intent on showing both his physical side and his mental side when they landed.

Someone sat beside him, and Lee glanced to his left. Adam, one of the scientists he oversaw, with short blonde hair and a smile. Lee had known him for a few years, ever since they started working together to create the super bug that had gone raging through HS11. Lee nodded to him, but Adam seemed to have little knowledge of personal space and leaned against him. “Looking forward to this.” He said. “Aren’t you?”

“Never.” Lee muttered. “I’m not looking forward to arriving in a place that’s overrun by the thing I created. It’s my fault these people are the way they are, that they’re trapped and lost and we have to help them.”

“Oh, come on Lee! You aren’t the one who let it out.” Lee glared at Adam. All he needed was to be reassured in such a time, when they were going in to the most dangerous city the military or government knew of. When he responded, it was with the air of a father scolding his son: “This isn’t a game, Adam. We have no idea if the first search party is even still alive! We don’t know what’s waiting for us when we land! Adam. I’ve gone over every mutation possible if infected. I’ve come to a lot of conclusions, some that…” He glanced at Thomas. “… Some that Marks doesn’t even realize. He won’t listen to me. He thinks he knows everything since he’s got a higher ranking than us, since he knows more powerful men and women than us lowly scientists do.”

Adam shook his head. “Well I guess you’ll just have to show ‘em what you were talking about, eh?” He chuckled, elbowing Lee in the side and moving back to the rear of the cabin. Lee sighed in exasperation as the copter began its descent. Glancing out the window behind him, Lee could see the stadium far away. The emergency signals had come from there before they were lost.

Being a surgeon, you get used to a few things.
You get used to getting very little sleep, working over 48 hour shifts at the hospital and resting in the on-call rooms whenever you get the chance. Well, resting anywhere when you get the chance.
You get used to the blood, the guts. As a surgeon you see some of the most gruesome and gory wounds and infections, especially when you’re from a big city. You get numbed to them.
And you get used to the people. The people who are dying, the people who are waiting for the bad news – any sort of news, and the ones who you can tell have already given up.
You get used to all that.
But nothing, not her seventeen years in a trailer park – not her medical school training or her surgical residency could have prepared her for what lay inside section HS11.

She noticed most of the group was young, the guy up front who was introduced as Eric had a few grey hairs, but other than that no one else here could have been even near their 40s. A cocky green eyed brunette in the back seat who she remembered had introduced himself as George was making the group laugh by retelling of the time he was sent down to help with hurricane relief in New Orleans. It was funny how people usually only recounted the good parts.

Eric was smiling too, though. More so in a way that said he had been around the blocks a few times. The story now switched to a black haired guy named Chris, accounting for some of his exploits on the military base in Kandahar. A real live ‘hero’. Quite a group. You had three military guys, two red-cross veterans, and an unemployed surgical resident who didn’t even have her fellowship yet.

“What about you red? Any stories?” A dark haired guy ask, his Jamaican accent thick. Ariana smiled, she could recount many stories that she thought were ‘cool’ or ‘funny’, but surgical humour wasn’t usually appreciated outside of the hospital.
“Yeah.” The cocky one pipped up. “M’sure you’ve seen some cool stuff.” Okay. Caved. She was about to retell the story of her first solo surgery – a major milestone in any surgeons life – before the car jumped, shuddered, and came to a quick stop.

There were no windows in the vehicle, and she was sure people in some circles would have flinched if she called it a car aloud. But she would leave the military mumbo jumbo to someone else. Eric, being closest to the front, knocked on the slide that divided them from the driver before swinging it open.
“Sorry guys, it started out of nowhere.” The driver said, Ariana saw him gesture out the front of the window, but everyone was now craning their necks to see outside.

She saw the guys head vanish out of sight. Felt the car shake slightly as the door opened than closed. Then suddenly the bright sunlight from outside flooded in and the group let out a united moan.
“A little warning would have been nic-woah...” A silence filled the group as the scene unfolded before them. Deserted cars, mangled flesh. Broken buildings, looted long ago so that the broken remains of glass were collecting dust.
The sun shone through everything in too bright a way to fit the scene. The smell of fire and flesh hit them quick, and in moments a few of the group had jumped out of the car to puke whatever they had eaten for breakfast onto the hot ash fault. At least her surgical training had prepared her for that.

“Come on, did you see that?” Ariana asked, rousing George. The sunlight was obviously offensive to his eyes, because he squinted right away before opening them.
“Nygh, what? See what?” He croaked, trying to sit up.
They had spent the night in an abandoned tower, and the stadium was so close Ariana swore she could almost taste the foot-ball game hotdogs.
“A helicopter. They’ve sent for help.”

The chopper came to a rough, shuddering landing in the middle of an intersection. The back hatch started going down, filling the air with a mechanical screeching and shuddering the hull. Lee took to his feet, throwing his backpack over his shoulder as everyone else did. The air from outside was slowly leaking into the scentless group, and with shocked, repulsed gasps, most covered their noses and faces, pulled their shirt up, or started coughing and hacking. Lee was not as fazed as the others were. He had smelled quite a few disgusting things in his lab, and the city was of little difference.

Stepping out, the group was watched by Thomas, who had decided to take a place beside Lee. With a gun in his hand, he glanced at Lee. “Don’t screw anything up, Baxter.” He murmured as they went down the ramp and into the street. “I don’t want to end up like the group we’re saving.”

Lee sighed as he rubbed the palm of his left hand, coming into the light of the city, and looked around at the damage done.

Lee and Adam stood over a wire cage. Most of the lights were off in the lab, save for the two right above them, illuminating the syringe, the cage, and themselves. Adam took the needle from the desk and a beaker from a stand nearby, filling it nearly all the way, heedless of the amount inside. When Lee nodded, Adam reached into the cage and held the rat to the floor gently, its sudden squeaks filling their little area. It squirmed when Adam injected the serum, but the effect was nearly immediate; when Adam shut and latched the door, the rat began panting, circling its little home, stumbling about. Lee and Adam stared through protective goggles, watchful. Their experiment came to a stop, blinking several times, and fell to the shredded newspaper.

Lee shook his head. Staring at the obviously-dead rodent, the serum had done half its job, but it was motionless, which was not what he wanted to happen. When Adam glared at it, the rat’s fur began moving, twitching. They backed away about a foot, before the thing could explode directly into their faces.

Adam gasped and stumbled back. Lee leapt, but remained where he stood in front of the cage. “Oh my God!” Adam sputtered, checking himself in the mirror on the other side of the room. “I hope it didn’t get in my mouth…”

Lee ripped his goggles off, squinting until he found his glasses and slipped them on. Taking a cloth from his pocket, he wiped the remnants of the rat off his face and unbuttoned his white jacket. “I can’t believe it.” He said. “A week’s work, failed. Another week, wasted.”

“What happened there…?” Adam looked around, certain he was clean, and discarded his own jacket.

“Obviously, the organisms that make up the virus was a little overzealous. It must have multiplied too fast once in contact with the rat’s blood. It should have spread slowly, taking over the individual blood cells and becoming the propulsion system for the rat once it died, because the heart isn’t pumping it along anymore. The virus would have still been alive, and with a will to survive that would cause it to circulate around the rat’s body and to the brain, reviving it in some form.”

As he spoke, someone entered through the sliding glass doors. Commander Richard Black had come in, with his usual serious glare on his squared face. “Lee, Adam.” He said, nodding to both of them. “We need the test sample.”

“Er, it’s not ready yet.” Adam muttered. When Richard opened his mouth to either complain or protest, Lee jumped in: “Commander, we can’t use this sample. It’s very problematic, and even in a small injection into a human, I’m sure the same reaction would happen as that with the rat.” He gestured to his jacket and the mess in the cage.”

“How long will this revision take?”

“About six hours, max.”

“Get it done. I’ll be back in six hours.”

With those words, the commander turned on his heel and stormed away. Lee sighed, leaning against the table behind him. Adam growled. "Another six hours without sleep." He muttered.

As he looked at the destruction, he shook his head. The mangled corpses of city-goers, alive just a few weeks before, laid in the streets, against buildings, hanging out of cars. They were blackened by fire, skin gray with decomposition, starting to be eaten away by flies. The ground was smeared with dark blood, glass, bits of tire, and debris that floated away on the wind. He almost didn’t hear Marks call the search team to start off to the stadium, but when he did, he sighed and started off with them, quiet amongst the chatter.

“What...what the hell happened here?” Chris asked, his hand twisting around on the butt end of his gun as if doing so was a comfort.
“Not a hurricane, that’s for sure.” George piped in, with a dry attempt at humor.
“Alright – it seems the details we were given were a bit...vague. That doesn’t mean the job has changed.” Eric spoke. A whisper went through the group, as they congregated around the back of the truck, trying to decide what to do next. The roads were blocked, and the heat off the asphalt was rising, distorting the horizon and giving all the tall glass buildings the appearance of a rippled reflection in water. They couldn’t use the car– and they were stuck in this heat until they came up with a plan.

“We need to get out of this heat.” Ariana said, looking up at the sun. “There is obviously a lack of clean water in this place...and if one of us gets dehydrated, there won’t be anything I can do about it.”

Eric nodded, trying to avoid looking at the ground as he surveyed the area.
“If we start heading towards the stadium, the shade from the buildings should keep the sun off our backs. But... seeing as how we didn’t get that far in we’re not going to make it there tonight.”

“So, we start walking.” A girl, Erin, said confidently. Hoisting her bag out from the back of the car and strapping it to her back.

“The GPS is programmed into the car, so we can’t take it with us... All service towers to this place were disconnected a long time ago... So, I’m going to go scribble down some directions.” The driver spoke, he looked shaken up, and almost Eric’s age. Eric seem to have known him, because he went with him to the front of the car.

Everyone was now getting their equipment out from the car – Ariana included. First aid kit – not the cub-scout kind either. Morphine, antibiotics, a defibrillator. They were set for any small-crisis. As they got ready to set out, she took a good look around. Whatever did this... it wasn’t a virus. The sheer brutality of the scene told her something was off... The plague didn’t distribute your organs across roadways or char you beyond recognition– and she didn’t believe desperation could make you do that to someone either.

Wandering off from the group, though, still keeping them in sight, she observed the bodies. Some were deformed... Claw like nails... growths on their bodies. Whatever this virus was – it was mean. A killer by instinct. Kicking the torso of a girl who was as dead as her platinum split ends, she jumped back as a spray of...something flew out of the girls mouth. She managed to avoid most of it, but the sudden and sharp pain in her arm told her that whatever it was got her. ‘Acid?’ She thought to herself, ripping off her sleeve and kicking the graying body of the girl for good measure. Walking back to the group now, she let lose a long string of profanities that she saved for special occasions – obviously a little shaken from the incident.

“Look, I have as much an idea as any of you guys as to what went on here... But, wherever we’re going, we should get there by nightfall... I doubt the street lamps here work very well anymore.” Ariana said, rubbing her arm and looking just as uncomfortable as the others. With a teasing comment of being scared of the dark from George, they were off.

“A helicopter?” George asked, his eyes glazed over.
“Yeah George, so come on... We need to get up.”
“I-I can’t.” The other whined. He sounded so broken that Ariana didn’t have it in her to be mad. “You go...Go get them.”
“I won’t leave you here. They could find you.” She said. For such an ambiguous word, it seemed to spark some fear into the cocky guy, because he was now fighting with the wall, trying to get up.
“They’re not here for us.” He panted, standing up seeming to have taken his breath. “They brought us in here... They knew. They let us in here to die.” Paranoia, delirium. She saw it all before. George needed medical attention, a psyche evaluation.

“Well, they aren’t leaving without us... Here.” She hooked her arm under him, helping him walk. They managed to make it outside... Now they would just needed to figure out which way to go...

’I wonder...’ She thought, before taking in a deep breath. Her throat was already raw... but it was worth a shot. “HELP!” One, loud big scream. It was all she could muster.

“They’re not leaving without us.” She repeated. Pushing George along.

Lee stood in front of Adam, who had decided to make a little more space between him and their most-recent experiment. “H-hey, Lee?” He asked in a small voice. Lee looked back, earning an exasperated sigh from the commander, who stood on the other side of the gurney. “If all this works… well, do you have any security measures in order in case it… does something you aren’t expecting?”

“Look around, Adam.” Lee said. They did so. The room they were in was pure white, cinder block walls, linoleum floors, a gray steel door bolted to their right. “Nothing is coming in, and nothing is getting out.”

“That isn’t what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid of what will happen to us.”

“Don’t worry about that.” The commander said, waving off Adam’s worry. “I have means of dealing with anything that might happen. Lee, any time now.”

Lee picked up the syringe beside the body, that of a young man with black hair that, in life, would have been spiked to defy gravity. His build was strong, but his skin had become grayish, like clay. Lee forced the needle into the man’s arm, heedless of where it even went as long as it avoided bone, and pushed his revised virus into his dead but well-preserved vein. “Rub the limbs to help the virus spread.” Lee said, running his own hands over the injection point. The commander and Adam, who had approached, obliged, “It won’t take long; the virus has a will to survive that will manipulate and attach to the blood cells, multiply them, and begin to circulate throughout the body.”

The young man was stiff, but the virus had worked through his arm and into his torso. Lee could almost see it in his mind, speeding towards its destination as it came to discover its host, as it took to its new home and brought it back, in a sense. Adam gasped, drawing Lee out of his mind and to the corpse on the table, which had begun twitching.

“I don’t believe it!” He breathed. “It’s… working?” he backed away a bit, motioning for the others to do the same. Adam leapt back and pressed his back against the wall, and the commander drew his weapon. The young man coughed, sputtered. He flittered his eyelids, squinting them, showing a glazed green stare. His arm moved spasmodically, wrenching him off the table on Lee’s side and away from the commander’s aim. He pulled himself forward, seemingly unaware that Lee was near, letting blood drip from his mouth and nose. He growled in an animalistic way, but it was cut short by the commander’s weapon as it shot a bullet through the young man’s head. Both Lee and Adam jumped at the incredible noise it made in the confined room.

“So far, so good.” The commander said. “Lee. This will work very well. I want you to gather half your samples and come with me to the conference hall. We must let the others know of this breakthrough.” With that, the commander turned and walked across the room, avoiding the clotting blood on the floor. When he left, Lee sighed and looked at Adam.

“It’s what we’ve been waiting for.” Adam said. “For… five years now.” Lee only nodded.

“Ugh, what’s that smell!?” Thomas Marks came to a halt, shuddering and putting his hand to his nose and mouth. “Worse than all the others!” Lee stepped forward, to Thomas’ side, and almost faltered just as Thomas had. Breathing shallowly, he saw a truck that was obviously from the military base, but deserted, save for the one odd, human-like creature draped over the hood. Without thinking, he stepped forward, plugging his nose. Murmurs ran through the search team, complaining about the stench that seemed to hang in the air.

The creature was indeed human, but it was huge, almost like a deflated parade balloon. It seemed to have been thrown over the hood by something twice its size, its stomach ripped open and dripping some thick, greenish liquid. “Oh.” Lee said. Thomas stepped up, startling Lee. “What?” Thomas asked shortly.

“Eh. Looks like a mutation.” Lee glanced at Thomas, seeing the confused look on his face. “The infection separates from its original path whenever it’s in contact with a specific chemical makeup. There is a difference in the---”

“I don’t care.” Thomas cut him off, and Lee fumed silently. “Let’s get going, and probably avoid more of… these things.” He started off, giving the truck a wide breadth, and Lee glanced back. Adam had approached, but said nothing at the look Lee was giving. Silently, they led the group, following Thomas.

George was getting paler as they continued through the carnage covered streets, and Ariana could tell he was becoming more sluggish with each passing moment in the spent in the sun. He was trying to talk now, but his words were becoming slurred to the point of incomprehension.
“Hey, ...you holdin’ up big guy?” She asked, in a voice she usually reserved for her patients. “Why don’t we take a break?”

“Na...na wega go.”

“George, come on, you need to rest... Just... Let me check your vitals?” She pleaded, noticing the jaundice like color in his eyes. A new wave or worry washed over her. If his liver stopped working, there was nothing she could do out here besides watch him die. All she had left was some gauze, some low-dose pain killers, a few suture kits and a scalpel.

“Okay.”

Pulling him to the side of the road, into what seemed to be a looted out television store, she stepped over the glass covered ground and around the broken bits of the electronic mess. “Here, on here.” She cooed, helping him onto a display table.
Heart rate. Dangerously low.
Temperature. Dangerously high.
“Dammit George, just hold on.” She whispered, more to herself. As she continued looking him over.

”Population a few months ago, 500 000. Population today... zero.” George said, attempting humour as they walked through a particularly body-filled street. The smell seemed to be hovering in the air, and it vaguely reminded Ariana of some of the burn victims she had to deal with. Though, just a lot more pungent and concentrated.

“If that’s true, that we’re here for nothing... They’re alive, somewhere.” Erin said. Unsmiling like most of the group.

“I haven’t heard of something this destructive since the plague.” Ariana said, repositioning her bag. One of the straps were broken. ‘Great’ She thought to herself.
She noticed a lot of the group had their eyes anywhere but on the ground. But she couldn’t help looking at all the bodies. They said a virus caused it... but still, something was off. A virus didn’t make you gouge out someone’s eyes.

The group kept walking silently, a few words here and there, but it was mostly silent. When they left the shade of the tall buildings, the sun had begun to set.

“We should really set up base somewhere soon.” Eric said, his hand over his eyes to block out the setting sun. “We don’t wanna get stuck out navigating this mess when the lights go out.”

“Dammit.” She swore to herself, checking his abdominal area. It was swollen. His liver was dead, and it was leaking fluid into his abdomen. As she continued looking over him, more sign of his liver failure were becoming apparent. His legs were swollen, and as he began coughing violently, she noticed blood dripping from his mouth. She couldn’t let him die – she couldn- His neck? What was on his neck? Her mind raced back to the body that she had tried to turn over...

It had spit acid at her.

Her eyes widened. He was dying, and developing this mutation...

He was infected.

“George... George I’m sorry.” She muttered more so to comfort herself. She was sure he couldn’t hear her now. Pulling the scalpel out from the fanny pack that was wrapped around her waist she brought it to his throat.

Quick and painless – he’ll bleed out, rather than suffer.

“I’m sorry George.” She repeated again, as she brought the metal to his throat to cut his artery. Blood didn’t spurt out, like a horror movie, but it gushed... it continued pouring out, faster when he thrashed.
“It’s okay.” She said, taking his hand until he stopped moving.

She took what she could off his body, using his water to clean her hands from the blood – she wasn’t sure how the virus was transmitted...but she didn’t want to take any chances.
“I won’t let them leave you here... I’ll make sure someone comes back for you.” She promised to the body.

Now... all she had to do was get to that damn stadium.

“Damn it, son of a bitch!” Thomas clawed at his right wrist, dropping his weapon. An infected had burst out of the bookstore they were passing, tackling one of the members in the back and turning its sights on Marks. The infected, a woman with braided hair, spat a mouthful of greenish acid at him as Marks drew his gun. Lee spun around, drawing his knife, but someone had leapt at the woman from behind, skewering her through the back with what appeared to be a bit of sharpened piping. Adam twisted it, bringing a mix of coagulated blood and acid spilling to the ground. Some in the group looked away with disgusted expressions. When Adam pulled the pipe out, it was being eaten away by the acid. He tossed it to the ground alongside the acid-spitter.

“Get away, damn you! I…” Marks was struggling to avoid Lee, who had grabbed the man’s arm.

“Shut up and let the doctor handle this burn!” Lee scolded, raising his voice for one of the few times. The group’s certified doctor, an older man with graying brown hair, stepped forward and unhooked the bag from his back.

Five gurneys sat about ten feet away from one another, IV drips attached to the left arm of the two men and three women lying motionless, half-hidden by white blankets. The group sat on the stage before the group of scientists, doctors, and a multitude of others. Lee and Adam stood to the side with their commander, who had started to speak: “This is going to be the biggest breakthrough in military history. It will be a huge advantage in the upcoming war. When our troops are killed, we will bring them back stronger, better! With a simple serum, we will be unstoppable.”

Lee scoffed at the term ‘simple’. It had not been simple at all. It had taken seven years to come to the right conclusion, seven years of endless experiments, sleepless nights, eventually being unable to distinguish day from night as they had been in the lab for such long periods of time. He rubbed his eyes, bumping his glasses up onto his head and back down. At least, he thought to himself, the commander wasn’t taking credit for the discovery. Adam sighed. “C’mon already.” He growled, so only Lee could hear. “My feet are killing me!”

The commander turned and looked toward Lee. “If you would, begin the feed.” He indicated the well-preserved corpses in a line. “We’ve waited too long.”

Lee nodded, leading Adam to the tables. The feed had started, the IVs dripping the serum into the line, into the veins of their victims. All five began to be fed, and the room was absolutely silent. Not a cough or sniff broke the hush laid heavy over the heads of all present. The silence was long. Too long.

“Lee.” The commander stepped forward. “What is this? I saw this work myself an hour ago.”

Lee didn’t directly answer, but pushed past him and stood before the shifting, muttering collection. “We may have found a way to bring the dead back, in a way, to a state of life. But this serum is unpredictable. Depending on the size, weight, age, and state of the body both inside and out, it might take anywhere from an hour to a day to be effective. The amount of the serum injected has no meaning, it’s the state of the vessel it inhabits.”

The commander stepped alongside Lee, pulling Adam with him. “These scientists are the best we have.” He said. “And I will believe whatever they say. What do you think we should do, then?” He looked at them as the congregation murmured in agreement.

“Post guards around the entrances and exits.” Adam said. “We’ll keep a lookout, but we can’t stay here and watch. We don’t know exactly how long this’ll take to work.”

The commander was silent for a moment. “Yes. That would be best.” He said at last.

The doctor patted his work, a thick but bendable bandage that went halfway up Marks’ right arm. “It’ll sting a bit,” the doctor said. “But it’ll be fine. Just let me take a look at it tomorrow, and give it a chance to breathe.”

Thomas nodded, rubbing the bandage and wincing slightly. “Damn.” He muttered, and glanced at Lee, who had been near while the doctor took care of him. “What?” He snapped, but when Lee only shrugged and turned away, he breathed out. “Well, come on then.” He looked up, observing the group in the fading light. They seemed uneasy, fearful. “We have to get to a safe place before night falls.”

With that, he started off again, Lee and Adam following on, leading the rest of the group down the street.