The Zombie Zone Act 2 Part 01

"My leg... my fuckin' leg..." the younger stepbrother muffled his panic behind his bandaged hand. The limping and fumbling didn't help.

"You're okay... you'll be okay!" the older stepbrother summoned all his strength to keep his sibling on his feet.

The brothers scampered between abandoned vehicles. The sun threatened the horizon; dusk was upon them. If the sun set before they reached their destination, things would become impossibly difficult.

"I'm scared, Michael," the younger one, at seventeen, whined. His waned eyes, cracked glasses, and mud-splattered clothes belonged to a hideaway. The chunk of flesh bitten from his shin stung against the evening air. Sweat covered them both; they'd been moving since that morning, after his father failed to keep out one of the ghouls.

"Don't worry, Doug. I have you. We just gotta... find somewhere safe..." Michael panted. His focus was split between his bleeding stepbrother and the shopping outlet's layout. The string of commercial businesses were vacant due to the outbreak. His pupils were warped into an odd, amorphous shape. They became that way a few days ago.

There were numerous zombies in the massive parking lot. Both the ones who tear people apart, as well as the ones that molest, were sprinkled throughout.

Michael gritted his teeth and pushed the strain of exhaustion away, so that he could save the last of his family. Doug stayed clammed up. He was more worried about silencing his sobs.

The outlet was a microcosm of how Hansel and the surrounding areas became over the past two weeks. Shattered glass, unhinged doors, and abandoned vehicles littered the sidewalk and parking lot. A couple of the trees on medians were knocked down after being rammed by erratic driving. Michael stared past the stretched parking lot over to a bank across the highway. Beyond the bank were supermarkets, another outlet, and the fourway to the community college. Somewhere beyond all that, over a hard-to-find bridge that crossed the Delta River, was their destination; an old prison.

Zombies approached from all directions. Pale skin, masks of red, warped pupils, and inhuman noises. They stumbled, but moved with enough cognition to avoid obstructions and each other.

Michael and Doug wouldn't make it to the prison.

"Shit..." Michael glanced at the nearby buildings. Most were restaurants or clothing stores, but a drug store caught his eye. Its backlit sign glowed with neon luminescence.

They rounded vehicles to dodge oncoming zombies. One zombie moved like a tadpole across the ground to slither beneath a truck. It launched up from below, exposing a large vertical mouth with rows of teeth, like a bottomdweller fish. Michael juked, which caused it to crash into a public trash bin. It made Doug hiss from the jagged movements.

They made it to the pharmacy. The automatic sliding doors were barely ajar, but didn't open. Michael and Doug squeezed in without difficulty. They quickly scanned the darkened store. Ransacked, but whoever did made it out in a hurry. Half the store was untouched. Luckily, it was also corpse-less.

Doug hopped over to the front counter and then fell to the floor. Michael turned to close the doors. When he pulled them together, an obese zombie reached in on time to grasp his shirt collar. Its body weight alone cracked the glass. Michael braced on the doors, planted a foot on its waist, and shoved. It tumbled backwards into another. Michael shut the auto doors and flipped the lock.

Three zombies slammed against the glass panes, but the door upheld. Michael tripped backwards, but stayed up. Once he saw the barrier stay, he switched to Doug.

Doug clutched his leg at the knee and rocked back and forth. Part of the shin bone was exposed.

"It hurts. Mikey, it hurts," Doug fought the cries back.

Michael stood and searched the shelves for nearby aid. Over-the-counter medication more than likely wouldn't be enough. There was a pharmacy near the back, but chained shutters blocked the counter. Michael knew that prescriptions were handed out from those windows.

"I'll be right back. Surely they have something in the pharmacy," Michael told him.

Doug grabbed Michael by the leg and pleaded, "Please! Please, don't leave me!"

"I won't!" Michael placed a hand on Doug's, but paused. His stepbrother's pupils were shifted to something akin to a kaleidoscope. Michael cracked a smile, "It's not so bad. Look, you have the same eyes as me now. Once we get you patched up, we'll head straight for the Freaks. They'll definitely..."

Doug suddenly leaned forward and kissed Michael on the mouth. It wasn't a peck; it was passionate. The older sibling drew away, "Woah, hey! What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know... I just, y'know, wanted to feel better," even Doug seemed surprised. It wasn't like him to be so bold. He blushed, "I mean, we're not actually brothers. Can we... try again?"

Michael tried to be rational, but something came over him. Suddenly, Doug seemed so cute and fragile. His lips were begging and needed attention.

The boys brought their lips together again. It answered a need they didn't know they hid. Doug felt better; the pain subsided to the love. He wanted more. He had to have more.

Doug graced his hand over Michael's crotch. He felt his stepbrother for the first time. It sparked a new desire.

"We shouldn't..." Michael took a breather. He never thought about his younger brother in such a sexual way. It felt way too good, though.

"Just once... before I die..." Doug continued kissing Mike's gawking mouth. His warped eyes were gyrating wildly, "Please, fuck me."

Michael snapped to at the mention of death, "Look, you've lost a lot of blood. You're not thinking right. You need medicine. I'll be right back."

"You promise..." Doug seemed to be fading. He looked even more pale than before and could barely hold himself up.

A haunting feeling overtook Michael. He couldn't stop shaking, but forced out, "Yeah... I promise, buddy."

The undead battered the pharmacy entrance. The cracks branched under the macabre drumming. Michael and Doug snapped to and gazed wide eyed at the monsters. Their safety wouldn't hold. Patching Doug up wouldn't do anything.

The glass along the upper part shattered. The zombie who broke it had its arm fall in and sliced along the shard. It didn't react, but instead continued to push in to reach its meal. The stepbrothers screamed -- be it out of anger or fear.

One by one, the zombies' heads snapped sideways. High-caliber bullets killed them. Their shambling forms crumbled outside the pharmacy.

The silence that followed was only filled by the haggard breathing of the stepbrothers. They were stunned.

They heard booted footsteps just out of sight. It preceded a man's burly voice saying, "Targets cleared. Moving up."

Hope arrived in the form of a husky militant man. His round face, with a gnarly, red-tinted beard, bestowed gentle but aged eyes. A headset rested beneath his helmet, which he spoke military code into. He held close a standard-issued M4, but with slight modifications.

Their savior peered through the broken glass, "Are you two okay? You're safe now."

Name: Peter 'Norse' McIntyre

Height: 6'4 Weight: 232lbs Age: 37

Hair: Bald with a glorious, dwarven red beard

Body: Gentle giant build

Michael helped Doug outside. It wasn't easy, but it showed Peter the damage done to Doug's shin. As they exited, Peter backed up cautiously to give them space.

Four additional soldiers were present. They each wore similar kevlar, armor, and dark tones to blend in with shadows. Their rucksacks looked similar, but with a few accessories here and there that differentiated them. Their assault rifles and pistols were equipped with silencers and scopes for mid-to-short range engagements.

Outside, all of the zombies within the proximity of the store were dealt with. A few lingered farther away, unaware of the potential meals.

"Is it just the leg?" Peter slung his rifle behind him and approached. He gestured to one of his teammates to follow. He wore a satchel with a medical symbol on it.

"Y-Yes, sir. We also have those strange eyes," Michael showed. Peter paused momentarily. Even the medic stopped mid-step. Their reaction called for concern, "What's wrong?"

Contempt ruled the soldiers' faces. The longer they didn't answer, the more worried Michael became. Doug wasn't all there, either. He would soon succumb to bleeding out.

"Please, tell me you can help!" Michael begged.

Peter's face tensed, but he nodded, "Yeah, man. We'll figure it out. Doesn't matter how bad it is."

"Captain," the medic straightened up. The rest of the squad acknowledged the approach of two more soldiers. They marched in from around the building corner. One looked young and his gear fresh. The second marched with a commanding brisk. Based on everyone's attention on him, this was the captain.

He bore a military physique; squared shoulders, straight and narrow gait, and stone-cold expression. He maintained a proper posture at every step. His moustache was finely groomed, while the rest of his face was shaved to the grain. His helmet and sunglasses covered the rest.

The captain walked straight towards Peter. The younger soldier joined his squad's side and awaited.

Michael struggled to speak, "Y-You're the commanding..."

The captain relinquished his silenced sidearm, aimed it at Doug, and pulled the trigger. The younger brother fell limp in Michael's arms.

Michael stared down at the greatest fear he could ever imagine. Tears welled up, but before his heart-wrenching cry could even shred his throat, the second bullet forced his body to fall limp.

"Fuck..." Peter looked away. He rolled his jaw, his heart poisoned by guilt. He muttered, "... they were just teens."

"I know. It isn't fair," the captain holstered his gun, but didn't look away. He wanted to face the guilt head on.

Name: Damian 'Captain' Chaban

Height: 5'10 Weight: 205lbs Age: 35

Hair: Dark brown crew cut with fade, full moustache

Body: Stalwart military fit

"But it's protocol, Norse. We can't have ourselves another Jefferson incident," Damian empathized the best he could.

"No offense, Captain, but the Jefferson incident was caused by a two year old," one of the female members added.

Name: Olivia 'Poprocks' Turner

Height: 5'7 Weight: 146lbs Age: 26

Hair: Long, wavy redhead

Body: Hourglass with lean muscles

Olivia's scorching red hair could be seen tucked beneath her helmet. She wore a tactical facemask. It let her sharp eyes cut as deep as her tone, "I don't want to disobey orders, but would you really kill a toddler if they were showing signs?"

Damian didn't even turn to answer. He stared ahead, detached from his words, "If nobody else would."

The squad adjusted in their stances. The uncomfortable reality they lived in called for unspeakable necessities. None of them made an argument.

A screech pierced the air somewhere else in Hansel. The squad looked skyward, but found no bat or bird creature.

"Inside the pharmacy. We can't be out in the open during discussions," Damian commanded.

The squad double-timed it. On the way, Olivia slowed next to the stepbrothers and took out a rain tarp from her rucksack. Damian watched her cover the corpses. She explained, "In case the National Guard comes through. And to give them peace."

Damian didn't chastise. He waited for her to give a seconds-long prayer, and then tailed her inside the pharmacy. He closed the doors.

"Do you think they have medicine here?" the young member who arrived with the captain looked about.

"In the back, but don't touch anything," an androgynous sounding team member stepped forward. Shapely like the female members of the team, but she spoke with a young man's wisp. Due to being covered with a balaclava and eyewear, not an ounce of her face could be seen.

Name: Lily 'Gadget' Cottonway

Height: 5'5 Weight: 133lbs Age: 27

Hair: Medium-length brown hair with curled bangs

Body: Short and lean

Lily pointed at a security box behind the checkout counter. Even with no power, the place had an alarm set, "Probably running on an internal battery or backup generator in emergencies. We can't break in without ringing the lunch bell."

"There goes my chance to start an opioid addiction. Damn," the medic sarcastically joked.

"Maybe next apocalypse, Nova," Olivia beamed.

"Gadget," Damian summoned.

"Yes, Captain?" Lily lived up to her callsign and flipped out a tablet from behind her back.

"Mark down our arrival. From the looks of it, none of the other teams or National Guard have been here. Check the bread crumbs while you're at it."

"Yes, Captain."

"Considering the proximity to the Freaks, I very much doubt there's anything of value left," Peter stared outside.

"The shelves haven't been hit hard. Either because it's too dangerous here, or there aren't many left," the medic picked up and shook a bottle of Aspirin.

"Even more reason for us to stay incognito," Damian shifted position. He became the center of the group, "Everyone, check your gear, count your ammo. Let's use this cover to our advantage before heading out."

The squad went through their routine. While doing so, Lily brought the tablet over to Damian, "It's like Norse said, no routes and no checks over this way."

"And the scheduled outings?"

"... none," Lily said with a foreboding hesitation.

"Ah, shit... you know what that means," Peter sighed, frustrated by the news.

"Bye, bye, Hansel," the medic expressed the same surrender as the rest of the squad.

Damian used the tablet screen's map of Hansel to make a conclusion, "We have three hours of daylight left. There's no need for us to be out past dusk, when the Freaks are more active. Let's scrub the outlet, find anything useful, and then extract."

"Yes, Captain," the squad said in unison.

The tarp outside ruffled.

"Six o'clock!" Damian hissed and raised his rifle. The rest of the team snapped to and uniformly aimed.

Outside, four robotic units gathered around the dead brothers. Two were spherical drones; two were humanoid enforcement units. The humanoid robots were thin, sleek, and designed for high-exertion situations. Their soft blues and whites were reminiscent of police officers of old. They even had an officer's hat designed on their heads, which casted shade on their circular yellow LED opticals. The drones were purely white with the front quarter acting as a display screen, like a face. Two antennas were on the sides, like bunny ears. Little nodes on the bottom acted like arms and hands. One drone provided a flashlight from a node, and the other used a syringe to extract blood from Michael.

Kneeling beside the boys was an aged Asian woman. Onset wrinkles pinched the end of her eyes and lips, greys dominated her sideswept, shoulder-length undercut, and cybernetic implants were faintly seen on the sides of her neck. She wore red, spherical spectacles, a white and blue field coat that tightly fitted over her button up and tie, and black and brown tights. Her shoes were clean, as was the rest of her outfit, regardless of the environment. She wore gloves with pads on the fingertips. These allowed her to interact with a holographic display that protruded from a wrist-mounted computer.

The elder checked the skies, "Cloudy. The weather sure is whimsical today."

Name: Mu Shijia

Height: 5'0 Weight: 114lbs Age: 58

Hair: Greyed sidewept style, with buzzed sides

Body: Thin-framed, but not frail

"X-Safari..." Peter spotted the company's insignia on the drones and woman's coat. It resembled an X and S intertwined with a DNA strand.

"How did they sneak up on us?" Lily narrowed her eyes. She denoted how the drones and enforcers didn't make much noise when moving.

"Dampening silicone," Shijia answered without addressing the soldiers first. She either had good hearing or aid.

Damian led forth. The enforcement robots faced him and raised their hands. The end of their fingertips were like firearm barrels. The commander glared, "Disengage your enforcers. I need you to identify yourself and state the reason for being here."

Shijia stood up and closed her hologram. The screen 'retracted' into the wrist apparatus. She adjusted her glasses, and then opened her coat more to show her ID badge. She spoke with a slight Chinese accent, "Mu Shijia, analytics expert and robotics engineer for X-Safari. My mission, however, is confidential. Report to your superior, soldier."

"I am Damian Chaban, former Army Captain and commander of this unit," Damian ignored the threatening enforcers. His stated rank caught the scientist's attention. He warned, "Considering unauthorized individuals are not permitted in the quarantine zone, your mission is ours to know. Lest we move to detain you."

"Hmm, interesting weather, indeed," Shijia's tone matched Damian's. "You are not even part of the National Guard?"

"We are privately contracted. We work in tandem with them."

"Does that give you authorization, commander?"

"That's..." Damian drew short of saying confidential. She knew more than she let on.

Shijia nodded, "Would you like to speak privately? Our intel may overlap, but we may be able to help one another."

Damian saw an opportunity to get answers. He first addressed his unit, "Split up into two groups. South side, north side. Recon and avoid engagement. Report back in ten minutes."

"Yes, Captain," all seven moved as one out of the pharmacy. Shijia and her drones entered to speak with Damian, while the enforcers stood guard at the entrance.

Peter expressed discontent, "I don't like this. They started the end of the world, for crying out loud. They think they can just waltz about doing what they want?"

"It's not our place to judge. Our contractor wanted us to aid the National Guard and act as a strike team. We're soldiers, not politicians," Nova, the medic, shrugged.

Name: Toshida 'Nova' Akira

Height: 5'9 Weight: 157lbs Age: 30

Hair: Short, black with red highlights

Body: Lean, defined muscles

"Yeah, well, Team North," Peter grumped.

"Team South," Akira took second lead.

Olivia took a spot next to Peter. They exchanged warm smiles. He thanked his 'lil sis'. Lily, the lanky male, and the quiet female with white hair and shades joined Akira. The male, signed Oracle, cracked a grin and fist bumped Akira. Lily hip bumped the quiet female, signed Nightingale, and she returned the bump.

Name: Matthew 'Oracle' Jazeline

Height: 6'4 Weight: 196lbs Age: 33

Hair: Black, grown out crew cut, slicked back

Body: A palm tree

Name: Pleasure 'Nightingale' Belle

Height: 5'6 Weight: 144lbs Age: 31

Hair: Styled bob, white

Body: Fit, but rounded

The teams were lopsided, but Akira's side seemed to do this on purpose. Everybody faced the youngest and newest member of the squad; the one who typically stayed by the commander. Akira narrowed his eyes, "Welp, that just leaves..."

"I'm ready for duty," the impressionable and excited man stepped forward.

Name: Joko 'Mop' Shugara

Height: 5'5 Weight: 144lbs Age: 25

Hair: Brown, faded sides, and swept top

Body: Youthful and average

"You guys are down two," Akira unnecessarily pointed out to Peter.

"Come on, Mop. They're a bad influence anyways," Peter fanned the young man over.

"Yes, sir!" Joko joined the team.

Peter nodded to Akira, "Keep your flares close."

"Always," Akira and his team moved out. The squad adjusted and went to work.

Inside the pharmacy, Damian watched his squad split. Shijia instructed her drones to collect scans. She stood with her hands gently folded behind her back.

"How long have you been in the military, commander?" Shijia asked.

"For my entire adulthood, but nowadays I'm no longer on active duty. I brought together a team to utilize our skills for those who pay to have it. After the outbreak began, we were hired on by high-profile officials as a special strike force and extraction effort," Damian explained.

"I see. Which means any mistake or disappearance would not go on record," Shijia showed pity.

"We know what we signed up for. It's our way of servicing our country and people. We don't seek glory or fame, or bureaucratic red tape."

Shijia wore a tight expression. She brought up her holographic screen and typed out notes in Mandarin. Her electronics and robotics made him ask, "Do you have communications, by any chance?"

"No, not with the interference field present in Hansel. Batteries and generators seem to work, but no signals can pass it," Shijia sighed.

"We suspect an EMP-like interference jammer. It's somehow bypassing our equipment's shielding," Damian felt pained by the idea.

"It could be somebody," Shijia noted.

Damian's bite tightened, "A Freak."

On the first day of the outbreak, more than half the population of Hansel was either evacuated or changed. By the second day, the undead ran rampant and the infected overwhelmed the central police force. It's the day the electrical interference became prominent. The third day is when the infection spread beyond Hansel, due to refugees escaping past checkpoints. Those in power, who could move pieces into the right places, fell victim and became cannibalistic or sex-craved monsters.

It wasn't a matter of containment after that. It was a matter of survival and prevention.

The Freaks are the ones with super strength, monstrous forms that could slip through the darkness like invisible predators, and flying creatures with incredible speed and regeneration. Anybody who, thanks to the concoction of the chemicals initially spilled into the reservoir, became more than human. For that reason, Freaks only showed up near the epicenter of the outbreak -- Hansel and its surrounding towns and areas.

"Is that what you call them? Quite derogatory for humans who are simply suffering a tragedy," Shijia seemed bothered.

"Haruta and his group have adopted the moniker. They flock to his cause. What's tragic is the level of violence they commit to innocent people. Both physically and sexually. They know no mercy," Damian challenged her more humanitarian approach. It's as if she didn't understand what was at stake.

"That is due to the side effects of the homolatta tortum overdose," Shijia adjusted her glasses. "The transformation of one's DNA drastically affects the hormones. Our normal dosage helps control those hormones. With a larger distribution, it drives individuals to basic, animalistic desires"

Damian didn't respond. He'd seen what the nightmare produced. Fellow soldiers, men and women he knew personally, changed into grotesque versions of themselves.

Shijia painted the severity, "You either thrive on maddened violence or hysterical libido. Even normal individuals will be more prone to one or the other. Since it is in every water source, everyone has some trace amount in them. We are bound to turn."

Damian furrowed his brow. Her words were a wrench on his predisposition, "What do you mean everyone has trace amounts?"

"The chemicals that spilled into the reservoir seeped into the water supply. People drank the water, showered in it, and boiled food with it, etcetera.

"If any of the contaminated water went elsewhere -- sewer drains, the river, hydrologic system -- it's inevitable. Then we have human hosts, made almost entirely of the element. It is in the saliva, sweat, mucus, blood, and genital fluid. The more exposed you become, the quicker the change. Depending on the person who imparts it, it seems you'll transform as they did.

"Ones that eat ravenously will create more classical zombie-like creatures. Those that reproduce will create more sex-centric molesters," Shijia stared at her displays. There were pictures, diagrams, and documents that showed the current research.

"We're... all contaminated?"

"It isn't a virus or disease. Similar cases happened with lead poisoning, when that was introduced into the oil, paint, and plumbing industries.

"Think of it like a liquid pesticide. You'll spray a crevice with roaches inside. It will immediately affect the ones hit by it. Once it seeps in deeper and dries, the others will die over the course of a few days," Shijia finished with a poignant tap on her hologram. It closed out all her notes.

"Then, there's no stopping it..." Damian's body vibrated at the daunting truth. He was disgusted by the severity of fallout.

Shijia shrugged with her mouth. Annoyance over despair, "Many of my contemporaries believe this to be our extinction event."

Damian glared, "But you don't?"

"I have another hypothesis: evolutionary immortality."

The term dropped like a dime in silence. Damian processed the answer and how it connected to the outbreak, "You mean we adapt to the chemicals?"

"Evolution works far more broadly than that. Homo sapiens are in a unique place in life, as we have developed tools and conditions that essentially eliminate environmental pressures. But, like animal husbandry, the changes brought on by the homollata tortum could propel us to new stages in human evolution. Instead of humans becoming extinct as a whole, it will be homo sapiens that go extinct. The new humans, of which you call Freaks, will become the successive species."

Damian saw the writing on the wall, "I have to report this to the second-lieutenant. The sooner, the better. Even if we have little to no power to stop it."

"Even more reason for me to collect as much data as possible. It is too early to conclude what will happen. By all means, I would like to be wrong," Shijia finalized her purpose for being there.

Damian thought for a moment, and then said, "We'll do the same thing we've always done. Saving survivors, neutralizing threats, and protecting our country. If it spreads faster through bodily fluid, that's even more reason. If we can't contain it, we can at least slow it down until the right people can find a way out of this hell."

"Saving survivors..." Shijia went from looking at Damian to the tarp-covered bodies.

Damian glanced at them with remorse, "It's unfortunate, but that's protocol. If somebody shows signs, we do what we must."

"The Hansel Crisis Triage Protocol? Page three, section... B? To my knowledge, there is no mention of elimination of the infected. Only quarantine procedures."

Damian snapped back to Shijia. She glared straight through him, "Our intel does overlap."

"Private contractors don't have to follow the rules, I suppose. A deceptive rhetoric," Shijia downcast her eyes in disappointment.

"You haven't seen the worst of it. The people we are saving are horribly traumatized. We found a young man last week who can barely respond. His mind is broken. Each day, the death toll rises. Each day, a new report of an outbreak in another state diminishes our efforts. By the zombies, by Freaks, and by normal civilians who think they can live in a world of anarchy. We must do what we have to do!"

"You and I are infected, captain. Will you answer 'your' protocol?"

Damian's double standard reared its ugly head. Both were on the precipice of disaster. They held damning opinions that eroded one another's perception.

Yet their human nature helped calmer minds prevail. It was the apocalypse. They didn't need more enemies. They left the subject for another time.

Damian paced this time, "Our intelligence discovered a discarded burner phone by the reservoir the day before the outbreak. Though we couldn't extract all the information, it mentioned a 'zombie zone' twice. Any idea what that might be?"

No hesitation, "No."

Her brow flexed, her tone flattened, and Damian could see her stiffen. She didn't tell him the truth, but it wasn't enough to warrant further action.

"Though, it does raise a suspicion of ours," Shijia followed the trail.

"That the spill wasn't an accident."

"Correct. I will say that X-Safari takes responsibility since it is our product that caused this mess. However, there were ten more similar incidents across the globe after Hansel. All in small towns with small police forces. Too great of a problem with too little of a response," Shijia disclosed.

"Higher command mentioned that, but it sounds like there's a pattern there," Damian grimaced.

"A pattern too precise to be a coincidence," Shijia insinuated.

"Are you saying there's a group within X-Safari operating with a plan behind all this? The ones responsible for these 'zombie zones'?" Damian asked.

"Unfortunately, I will need more data before I can give a conclusion," Shijia reverted to her basic rhetoric.

Too many deadends, Damian thought. He gave her coordinates, "Very well, then let us stay in contact. The last inner outpost is located five klicks northeast. Follow the highway to the border of Hansel and Alpharetta, near the nature preserve. You'll see the electric fence and armed men. Our detecters will tell us you're coming. Approach cautiously."

The analyst added them to her notes, "Due to the nature of my work, I prefer to stay out of sight. Granted, a backup plan is always pleasant to have. Thank you, commander."

"Just avoid Delta River when you come that way. Too many people have fallen victim to the sharks therein," Damian advised.

Shijia stared and processed with a soured face, as if Damian gave a wrong answer on a test. He didn't like how ominous her response was. She gently shook her head, "Those aren't sharks. That would actually be preferable, if true."

The two were ready to work. Heavy thumps on the roof, like something large running, cut across to one end of the building. The enforcers armed their hands, but didn't have sight on whatever made the noise. Damian raised his rifle and exited the store.

Outside, they caught a glimpse of what moved near the rooftop edge. A large creature with fur and canine features, but which ran upright. It disappeared after retreating towards the backside.

"A werewolf? That's one of our line products," Shijia was barely fazed.

Damian didn't open fire since it'd be a waste of bullets, "One of the few abominations who doesn't run with the Freaks. We've had only a couple of reports about it."

"Lone wolf?" Shijia asked.

"We believe so. That or they work for the criminal terrorist, Anna Lisa Peck. Runs an outfit of anarchists from Shangri Lagoon. They scavenge attacked squads, loot crashed supply helicopters, and along with the Freaks, have made it damn near impossible to secure the town."

"Ah, Ms. Peck. I've seen her handiwork," Shijia evaluated her drones and their scans.

Damian wondered how his squad held up. The effects of X-Safari and the looming werewolf made him start to worry.

Along the northern buildings, Peter, Olivia, and Joko checked through the windows of a thrift store. Shelving units on the inside blocked the windows. All but one corner was covered properly. Ironic enough, the corner had been broken into. Whatever story took place here ended with ruin and death.

"Could you do it? Shoot a kid?" Olivia asked.

"Can't say I would, but circumstances pending, it might have to happen," Peter answered, but halfway through, his repulsion of the idea made him grimace.

"Easier said than done, I think. I hope Captain's going to be okay," Olivia kept peering over her shoulder.

"He'll be fine. Let's keep our wits about us. Hey, Mop... Mop?" Peter searched. Olivia and him saw Joko staring into the thrift store, distracted.

Joko heard them, but was busy ogling a corpse. It was a sex zombie, evidenced by their bodacious proportions and missing clothing. He finally responded, unfocused, "Man, this infection really does cake up the deadbeats. This thing had a gyat."

"What the hell, Mop? Why would you say that?" Olivia judged. Peter rolled his eyes at Joko's juvenile comment.

"What? I'm just saying. I can see why people give into the advances," Joko laughed nervously.

Doubling down on the statement made Olivia physically cringe. She stomped ahead, "I better walk away before I punch something."

"Aw, come on. I'm just joking around," Joko feebly excused himself. It didn't do much. Peter shook his head in shame, didn't respond, and simply followed the angered woman. Joko licked the inside of his lip and glared, "... bitch."

A dragging noise caught Joko's attention. It came from within a sitdown restaurant. He peeked into a foyer. The darkness snuffed out the sunlight almost immediately, turning the once bustling hangout into a haunting void. Near the reception desk was a female zombie.

She lingered near a wall with artistic memorabilia, like painted envelopes and Renaissance lanterns. Her glasses were skewed, while her brown bob was frizzy and messy. Her striped top was pulled down enough to expose her shoulders and tighten around her ample breasts. Her lower half was nude. Her bare ass greeted Joko first.

Joko brought his rifle up and aimed it in. It's what his training called for. However, he couldn't help but admire how curvy her backside appeared.

He checked the coast; Peter and Olivia were ahead and busy rounding vehicles. They were deep in talks about their families. The commander and others were too far away.

Joko entered the restaurant. He switched from his main arm to his sidearm. With the pistol aimed at the woman, he whispered, "Ma'am?"

The lady turned gradually. Her legs buckled beneath her, as if she had to consciously tell them to catch her weight. As expected, her pupils were warped. Dried up liquid plastered her mature, pretty, Asian-American face. Stains riddled the front of her shirt. Her groomed groin was on display for Joko to eyeball.

The woman grinned, "More... I need to feel it inside me..."

She stumbled forward onto her knees. She scuttled along the floor like a maniac, bug-eyed and giggling.

"Hey, hey, easy, easy," Joko needed to steel himself against the woman's behavior. He kept his pistol trained on her.

Once she crawled all the way over, she immediately lowered the pistol and inserted it into her mouth. Joko gawked with tepid interest. The sex zombie performed fellatio on the barrel. She sucked on the metal and tickled the underside with an enthusiastic tongue.

"Holy shit... you really want it, huh?" Joko cracked a nervous grin.

The woman gazed up at him with overflowing lewdness. Joko held the gun with one hand. He loosened, unbuttoned, and lowered his pants with the other. His small erection popped out. He aligned it with the pistol's barrel. The woman's eyes followed along, but she continued to lather the barrel with saliva.

Joko pulled the gun out of her mouth. The woman gasped like she was drowning. She desperately switched to his cock. The fear quickly melted beneath the oral warmth. Joko let out a nervous laugh and relaxed. The sex zombie slurped and teased the small head well.

Joko planted the barrel of the gun against the side of her head, "Don't you dare bite down, bitch, or I'll blow your brains out. Got it?"

The woman didn't pause, but she did nod a little and give a sexy whimper. Joko leaned away and captured the moment in his head. The woman guzzled it all the way in. Feeling her lips smooch the base and balls made him flex.

Joko put his free hand on her head to keep her from coming back up. She gyrated her head for a subtle sensation. Her eyes rolled back; his head tilted back.

"Service that big cock, mommy," Joko became enraptured. Sex zombies were exactly what he'd hoped they were.

Finally, after seconds of suffocation, the woman pulled away. His cock sprang up and plopped against her cheek. Saliva and precum dripped from the shaft and head. The woman stuck her tongue out and feverishly licked towards the liquids. A big, happy smile dominated her messed-up face.

Joko leaned forward and down. She wiggled her tongue up at him. He opened his mouth and accepted the zombie's offer.

He felt strange inside. Like the embers of desire set fire to something he wanted to discard for a long time. It was an apprehension that stopped him from being himself.

Their mouths parted and strings of gooey liquid bridged the gap. Joko panted and lapped up her mixture. This was the hottest thing he'd ever done, and perhaps will ever do. He couldn't waste it.

"Wanna get knocked up?" Joko asked after the discardment. The woman's crazed eyes indulged the idea. She bit her lip and frantically nodded.

On the southern side of the outlet, Akira's team stuck close to walls. Any time a zombie came into proximity, two of them would tag team it. All-in-all, they made quick work of any threat.

"Searching," Akira investigated the undead's belongings. Pleasure did the same with another, hiker zombie. This meant Matthew and Lily were on lookout duty.

Matthew tapped Lily on the shoulder. He pointed towards Pleasure. She bent at the hips to open the backpack. Thanks to her aerodynamic skinsuit, they could appreciate her athletic form. She swayed side-to-side, tauntingly.

Matthew whispered to Lily, "Is it me or has Pleasure been a little more... you know?"

"I think so," Lily sighed, "She's been teasing me in the showers, I've seen her stealing glances at my dick, and she's expressed wanting more 'alone' time."

"She mentioned at breakfast that she hadn't been laid in a month," Matthew imparted a look of interest.

"Same," Lily absent-mindedly snickered. The two paused for a moment.

"You want to?" Matthew asked. He gave her a look-over.

"Kinda," Lily grinned.

"Good Lord!" Pleasure bounced away from a nearby delivery truck. The team whipped their weapons around. Pleasure clutched her chest and glared wide-eyed through the front window, "He scared the shit outta me."

Through the dewy glass they saw the faint silhouette of a corpse, slumped sideways in the driver's seat.

"What's on his mouth?" Matthew noticed a growth attached like a fastened hose. Akira stepped closer and examined. The growth came up and through the driver's window.

The team rounded the vehicle and followed the growth. It appeared to be a vine or ivy growth. It snaked its way towards an alley. A few more of these vines leeched out towards nearby cadavers.

Just inside the alley, pinned to the wall, was another body. All the vines protruded from the now missing head, sprouted like a seed. Its skin had a green tint to it, and where it touched the building side, it appeared to be attached like an adhesive. The most glaring feature of this corpse was its inflated stomach. Resembling a pregnant woman well on her way, its stomach bulged. The inside of the bulge glowed an eldritch green.

"Has anybody seen this before?" Akira held his rifle true, mystified.

Lily read the records, "No intel here. This is a new discovery."

"I knew I should've taken the thermals. Peter just HAD to have them," Akira pouted.

"I have a C4 charge," Pleasure patted the designated explosive.

"Guys, that could be problematic without knowing what it even is. A new discovery like this could be a gold mine," Lily said, fingers on her tablet.

Akira tapped the bulge with the end of his rifle. It spooked the others, and they readied for trouble. However, as if made of flimsy paper, the skin around the bulge tore. The glow inside fell out and onto the ground as a perfectly spherical orb. It made a thud like a bowling ball. Residual dust from the torn skin lingered in the air.

Pleasure chastised, "Nova, seriously? You have to be..."

G...

The team fell silent and a wave of discomfort rippled through their minds. After it passed, they each looked at one another.

They were fine.

Akira asked, "How about we take it? Something like this could fetch a nice price on the black market. Ivankov said we should keep an eye out for goodies."

There were no objections whatsoever. Akira picked up the orb -- about the size of a volleyball -- and stared into its shimmer.

Back at the pharmacy, Shijia finished collecting samples from the boys. Damian stayed to keep her safe, even if her robots could do more than he.

"Captain," Peter called as he and Olivia returned.

"Find anything?" Damian approached.

"Boarded up and abandoned storefronts. Plenty of dead," Olivia reported.

"No signs of Freaks?" Damian was curious about where the werewolf went.

"Nada," Peter disappointed the commander.

"Very well. We'll join up with Nova, finish the search, and return to base. We have much to debrief on," Damian traded glances with the southern side of the building and Shijia.

"Take care, soldiers," Shijia said cordially. "The weather isn't favorable."

"Captain, have you seen Mop?" Olivia asked, glancing about. "He detached from us. We thought he marched back here."

"He's not with us," Akira and his team returned, meeting their commander's timeframe. The lack of information on Mop's whereabouts perturbed the squad. Without comms, they had to do it the hard way.

In the restaurant, wet splats reverberated throughout the establishment. The animalistic moans of man and woman joined the noise. Joko drooled on himself. The sex zombie laughed and cried in pure ecstasy. Their groins leaked all over their legs.

Joko took the undead from behind. They were propped up against the reception desk. He plowed her with hard thrusts. She leaned back and held an arm around his shoulders and neck. It gave him a full view of her swaying body.

His uniform laid on the floor, along with all his equipment.

"Harder! Faster!" she begged.

"Geez, woman, how fast do you need it? You're gushing all over me," Joko laughed nervously. He glanced between them. She came so much that it gathered in white streaks around his base. Her ass jiggled as he rapidly pounded her.

"Faster! Don't stop! Faster!" the woman broke into an insane level of hysteria. The kaleidoscope effect in her eyes seemed to be more erratic.

Joko had never felt pussy this good. Its insides were warm, welcoming, and churned him like a living masturbator. Even after cumming into her, his cock somehow stayed erect and spiked with excitement. It was an addicting feeling. It rejuvenated him from the usual fatigue. It's exactly what he wanted from the zombies; unlimited pleasure.

"I'm gonna fuck you until we both pass out!" a strange elation took over Joko's brain. His saliva dribbled out of his mouth.

"Joko."

Damian's heartbroken tone tore Joko away from his delusion. The whole squad stood at the front. All of their weapons were raised, but they stayed their triggers. There was a mix of pain, disappointment, and disgust. Damian's was the most painful; Joko had never seen him so distressed.

Yet, Joko continued fucking the zombie. Because, unbeknownst to the young man, his pupils were warped.

"Uncle Damian! I can explain! Give... give me a minute, will ya? I'm almost done... I'm almost done..." Joko panted more and more. The exhaustion didn't matter. What mattered most was the exhilaration his cock and balls experienced.

"Uncle?" Peter gawked.

All eyes fell on Damian. The commander moved forward. It was stoic and purposeful. Without flinching, Damian took his handgun and discharged two bullets. Joko and the zombie hit the floor, motionless.

"Jesus Christ..." Olivia spoke for the team.

"He was your nephew?!" Akira asked.

"Protocol is protocol," Damian holstered his weapon. He stared at Joko's corpse. When he turned, mortification mixed with the cold countenance. He slipped by everybody, "If nobody else will. Gather his gear."

Peter asked, "What about his body?"

Damian opened the restaurant door and paused long enough to say, "Leave it. His family doesn't need to know what happened. He'll die with honor; protecting and serving his country."