The steel corridors of the GDA base felt colder than usual as John waited outside Slammer's quarters. When her door finally hissed open, John's face lit up, but before he could utter a word of greeting, Slammer's gaze cut through him like a blade. "Don't even think about starting a conversation, John," she snapped, her fists white-knuckled as she stormed past him. John stood frozen, watching her silhouette disappear down the hall. "Alright," he murmured to the empty air, "I guess."
The base's intercom crackled to life, the voice booming with a heavy, ritualistic weight: "Commander Slammer and her division will be heading to the Route. Stay safe and pray for them, as you should."
A second announcement followed immediately, chilling the air further: "Commander John and his division will be on the mission taking them to the Apocalypse. Stay safe and pray for them, as you should."
John took a deep breath, tightened the straps on his gloves, and marched toward the yawning bay of the transport aircraft. Inside, the cabin was a forest of olive-drab uniforms and heavy weaponry. As the gates groaned shut and the engines began their eastward hum, the soldiers around him drifted into a tense, snoring sleep. John, however, couldn't close his eyes.
"Hey, what's your name?" a whisper floated through the low light.
John blinked, turning to see a girl watching him. "I'm John," he replied, his voice low. "Or GdiLives."
The girl extended a hand, her grip firm and practiced. "Nice to meet you, John. I'm Laura. I'm an Elite Operator. You?"
"I'm a Commander," John said.
Laura's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, a Commander!" She chuckles, leaning back with her arms behind her head, a playful but sharp glint in her eyes. "So, Commander John... why did you become a GDA soldier, amongst the GDA armies?"
John frowned, struck by the strange weight she put on the question. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Before Laura could answer, the speakers exploded with a roar that startled them both and sent the sleeping soldiers bolting upright: "Wake up, maggots! We have an order to follow. Open the gates and fight some heavy, heavy zombies!"
The aircraft's ramp dropped, and the world outside was a nightmare. A sea of rotting flesh and reaching claws surged toward them. The air was instantly filled with the deafening chatter of assault rifles and the smell of gunpowder. John drew his Desert Eagle, the heavy handgun bucking in his grip as he sent rounds through the front line of the horde, dark blood splattering across the metal floor.
To his left, a man let out a short, wet cry as a Smasher Zombie descended. The creature's massive fist struck with the force of a sledgehammer, popping the soldier's head like a ripe watermelon.
Laura didn't flinch. With a wide, almost terrifying smile, she laid down a steady stream of fire with her rifle, cutting paths through the undead. John gritted his teeth, locking eyes with a Smasher. He waited for the opening and fired, the heavy slug burying itself in the creature's forehead. The giant crumpled into the dirt.
"Nice aim, Commander," Laura called out over the gunfire.
"Watch out!" John screamed.
Laura didn't hesitate—she lunged, kicking John sideways just as a Suicide Zombie reached them. The explosion was a blinding flash of heat and pressure that sent John tumbling across the cratered earth. He groaned, clutching his waist as he tried to find his footing.
Above him, the shadow of an Abomination loomed, its massive arm raised to crush him into the dirt. But before the blow could land, Laura was a blur of motion. She leaped into his space, shoving them both clear just as the monster's fist slammed into the ground, leaving a jagged impact crater where John had been a second before.
"You saved my ass; next, I'll save your shit!" Laura grinned, pulling him up.
John breathed heavily, his eyes darting between the regenerating monstrosities. "We better be careful. These zombies are stronger than any I've faced... even the X-Juggernaut is stronger, but these things... they just don't stay down."
Laura licked her lips, her grin widening with a manic energy. "Lovely..."
To be continued.
In the shadows of the battlefield, a pale, bird-like silhouette watched the carnage through the cold lenses of a plague mask, as the world faded into an ominous, suffocating black.