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Rules of Combat...

Number 1. Good people will die.

Number 2. Not even "Doc" can change rule 1.

Number 3. For his friends, "Doc" will die trying to change both rules...

Warning! POSSIBLE P.T.S.D. TRIGGERS !!! The following contains graphic depictions and is not for the faint of heart. These include: mutilations, gore, forced transformation and suggested scenes of attempted rape.

...All stations this net- all stations this net- sit-rep to follow... Population centers south of Fairhaven have been successfully secured with minimal casualties- 3rd Battalion is to R.T.B. then resume containment procedures... Be advised, rules of engagement updated as follows: when possible it is recommended that anything approaching quarantine perimeters be driven back into the city with containment fire. Do not shoot to kill until necessary. Anyone violating the R.O.E. will face court martial...

Later That Day... Marine Corps Forward Operating Base, 1/4 mile east of the Fairhaven quarantine perimeter...

To call the situation at the F.O.B. Hell, would have been a serious understatement. Every service member at the base was scrambling as fast as they could to tend to the hundreds of people rescued from the ransacked towns south of Fairhaven.

Samorn saw several of them, sadly some children, with horrible injuries ranging from burns and shrapnel wounds to deep lacerations, claw slashes and bites, some unspeakably worse. The wounded were seen first and rushed from the helipads to the medical and surgical prefab buildings set up by the dozens.

Many survivors had also begun to show, or were already showing small signs of infection; animal ears, tails, paws, hooves for feet, wings, antlers, etc, which terrified them and their families to no end as they huddled together in the courtyards of the base where they were told to wait. For some reason the infected survivors were not actively kept isolated from the uninfected.

As their mutations got worse many of the infected begged for help, but there were simply too many wounded to tend to for the available marines and corpsmen to do much more than provide bottles of water and set up some protection from the sun. Mixed into the groups of survivors were isolated civilians that had endured full body transformations, but there weren't many of them. On a rare occasion one or two of the mutants would have to be restrained and be injected with sedatives when they became violent or attempted to rape someone as their libido and new instincts became uncontrollable.

The marines and corpsman eventually worked to calm the mutated survivors by isolating them in the quarantine tent to be looked at one by one. They were promptly given drugs to slow or stop the spread of their mutations, but were informed by the corpsmen that there was nothing that could be done to reverse any changes that had occurred, much to the survivor's horror. Survivors with full mutations were given treatments to make them noninfectious, at least to an extent, and supplements to help with their inhuman libidos.

When the Sea Hawk arrived at the F.O.B. the little boy Samorn helped comfort on the trip was the first to be seen by the navy corpsmen waiting by the helicopter pad, followed shortly by the other civilians. The little boy was quickly taken from her and carefully placed on a gurney being wheeled up by a marine.

The wounded marines onboard angrily refused help as they exited the helicopter, telling several corpsman that they would take care of themselves until every civilian had been seen, mutated or not. Samorn was astounded by their selflessness and offered to help out the marine that seemed to be the worst off.

Samorn ushered him to an open spot near some cargo crates that provided some shade and got to work removing his shirt for him. She pulled a medkit from a pouch on his tactical vest and used it to quickly dress the deep bleeding wounds on the marine's belly and chest. He was in some pain but still thanked her profusely, showing no fear of her canine appearance while another marine nearby observed, making sure she was doing what she should. She did, but was dumbfounded as to where the skills to do so came from.

She glanced up as she finished taping the last bandage and noticed that the little boy had not been moved to the field hospital. She watched as the gurney bearing marine placed a stethoscope on the boy's chest, moving it from place to place rather quickly. It seemed as if time had slowed down as the marine rapidly removed his kevlar helmet, leaning his head down as if to listen for breathing. He performed chest compressions several times with an attending corpsman using a bag valve mask. Soon, however, any expression of urgency faded from the man's face. He gently shook his head then obtained a white sheet from the gurney to unhurriedly drape over the child's lifeless body. Samorn's eyes began filling with tears as she watched the marine place a hand upon the child's covered forehead, holding the hand of the accompanying corpsmen as the two men recited a brief prayer, holding their heads low and closing their eyes. An unmerciful strike of reality if Samorn had ever seen one.

"I dressed that kid's wounds myself," the wounded marine said sadly. "I thought for sure he'd make it."

"Me too," Samorn replied, wiping the tears from her eyes, trying to collect herself. "He even smiled at me in the helicopter..."

Another low point after her arrival at the base was when a few flatbed trucks arrived loaded with the destroyed remains of several military vehicles. She watched as the wrecks were unloaded by crane, stripped of munitions and washed of blood and other bodily fluids by special Marine Corps personnel wearing MOPP gear. The sight and smell of it all made Samorn sick to her stomach, knowing that these vehicles were once occupied by people that were now either dead or have been forced to become monsters against their will.

An instinct within her awakened shortly after that. One she didn't understand but she didn't fight it since it led her to work tirelessly to aid the marines and corpsman in their efforts to comfort waiting survivors. She searched for those within the crowd that were alone and formed a group of them, encouraging them to get to know one another while they idly chatted and sipped water under one of the many open tents set up in the courtyard to keep the baking sun off of the survivors.

By the time she was done she had amassed seven of them. One was a cute, somewhat sassy young woman with rounded feline ears, the beginnings of paws and a short lynx like tail that wagged happily as she spoke. Her top canines had overgrown her still human jaw, stretching past her chin, but the sudden upturning of her nose hinted that that was about to change in a moment.

Another survivor was a middle aged man with the lower body of an anthropomorphic coyote complete with a tail and clawed paws. He claimed to be an ex-soldier and would be helping out but feared passing on his infection as he did to his wife, simply by kissing her. Another survivor was a young man who had grown a coat of jaguar fur on his upper torso with ears that had begun to change as well, not that he noticed. The others in the group had little to no changes, or were trying in vain to hide them.

Another lone survivor that pulled her attention was a young man who's body had been tormented by a hermaphroditic type infection. It had progressed to the disturbing point of robbing the man of any masculine traits, his body becoming more and more feminine and woman like, but leaving his male genitals untouched at that moment. The man soon began writhing and groaning loudly as his infection progressed at a worrying speed. A wet spot had begun to appear on his shorts between his legs, hinting at something developing down there while breast tissue and stiff growing nipples tented his shirt. He groaned in an increasingly effeminate voice about the heat as he frantically tried to remove his tightening shirt, tearing it with white talons sprouting from his fingertips. His hands rapidly began to fuse and shift into eagle like talons while soft blue fur began to spread over his body rather quickly, starting at his back where it was the darkest and migrating from there to his chest and slim belly where it was snow white.

With one glance at his mutating body he began to panic. "Oh- Fucking, god. No! Please help me!" the man cried in terror and reached his four digit talon like hands out, shrieking somewhat girlishly as he saw them.

"You're gonna be all right, sweetheart!" Samorn said as she knelt to cradle his head and shoulders, grabbing one of his hands. "Corpsman up!" Samorn instinctively turned her head and barked.

The man's face began to creak and push forward, forming a dark yellow predatory beak while blue fur rushed to cover his entire head and neck, becoming dark and feathery at the back and top. He groaned, his ears forming into cat like points as they were tugged uncomfortably to the top of his head, positioned like a feline's.

It didn't take more than a few seconds for the sound of sprinting boots to be heard. Two men, one a marine and another a corpsmen, arrived wearing surgical masks and gloves along with their heavily used combat gear that didn't seem to slow them down at all. It looked as though the men had just come from a battle zone, weary but still able to do their duty.

"Alright, let me see him!" the corpsman said in a southern accent as he knelt down, setting his pack down beside him. "Moretti, take her spot. Ma'am, please let him!"

The marine motioned for Samorn to hand the transforming man over and she, not knowing what else to do, complied. The marine quickly moved to support the man's head and shoulders on his lap so that the corpsman could get better access to him.

"I'm gonna die, aren't I?" the changing man whimpered. Tears started flowing from his hybrid avian and feline eyes as he gazed up at the strong marine who held is hands tightly. The marine shook his head.

"Nobody dies when I'm around, kid!" the corpsman replied, slipping a pair of trauma sheers from his pocket to quickly snip off what was left of the man's overly tight shirt and shorts before tossing them aside. He then got the man's attention with a couple snaps of his fingers.

"Alright, buddy, I need you to focus on my voice and my voice only," the corpsman said in an urgent yet calming tone. "We're gonna try to lower your heart rate, alright? You gotta slow it down so I can give you somethin' to help." The corpsman removed his surgical mask and leaned in close to the changing man's avian face, placing a gloved hand on the side of it and rubbing gently. "I want you to breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth," he instructed.

The marine suddenly uttered, "That's a beak, dude."

Sighing, the corpsman frowned up at him. "Seriously? Shut the fuck up!" he said before refocusing his attention on the infected man. "Breathe with me, slow- In - Out - Relax... In - Out..."

They continued like this for over a minute, and Samorn could tell the hypnosis was actually working. By then the man's lower body had developed into that of an anthropomorphic feline with digitigrade legs, blue and white fur, and lion like paws, but overall his transformation had ceased.

Rapidly snatching a syringe and small medication vial out of his pack the corpsman began filling the syringe part way with the clear liquid while the marine began carefully rubbing the transformed man's white furred thigh, searching for a vein or artery.

"What- is that?" the mutated man asked, fear still in his voice, but relaxed.

"It's a fancy cocktail of inhibitors and anti-viral agents," the corpsman replied, slowly inserting the needle into a vein the marine found. "It's gonna help, alright?"

"Ok."

"But, you may go through another couple changes that I can't stop. I'm sorry, but this will make you unable to pass on your infection to others with your blood or saliva, so take it as you will. You'll still be contagious if you fuck somebody, so keep your pants on until we figure that part out. K, brah?" The corpsman carefully removed the needle after injecting the fluid and disposed of it in a portable receptacle. "We'll find you a new pair that'll fit ya, soon."

The avian-feline hybrid looked around nervously. "My back's startin' to hurt, man," he spoke with rising fear in his voice. "Like, real bad!"

He gasped, lurching up from the marine's lap, hugging his hourglass figure with a loud groan. The corpsman urgently motioned for the marine to back away, but all he did was scoot back a couple of inches, shrugging as though he didn't see a serious problem.

Three bulges began forming on the developing gryphon's back, the first two behind his shoulder blades, with the third being a budding tail. All three bulges began to rapidly expand after a couple seconds, furry and feathery new limbs shooting out of his back as he let out a strange mix of a pained squawk and roar with a hint of femininity. The top two appendages shot square into the marine's face as they grew, knocking him to his back as they unfurled into a large pair of beautiful hawk like wings with light blue feathers. The tail stretched until it became a long lion's tail, blue furred and with a tuft of dark blue fur on the tip.

Letting out a sigh of relief the newly formed hermaphroditic gryphon examined himself with a stunned look on his avian face, ears perking as his talon like hands made their way to his breasts and groin. His cock had turned pitch black and knotted, gaining length and girth significantly, standing hard and dribbling a little pre. Behind that were the pink folds of a new vaginal opening, still wet from when it formed.

The combination of hormones and new sensations seemed to be overwhelming him, his body shaking with a virgin need. Taking notice the corpsman snapped his fingers.

"Hey! Don't touch yourself, man. Trust me," the corpsman said. "You don't wanna do that."

The gryphon clasped his hands together, trying hard to ignore the powerful feelings coursing through his new body. "It's so... Hard not too," he whimpered, his tail shifting from side to side.

"I know it," said the corpsman, gently squeezing one of the herm gryphon's paw pads for a moment, making the retractile claw unsheathe, observing an indentation his finger made. "Just, focus on your breathing."

Groaning, the marine behind the struggling herm grabbed his face as he sat back up, blood soaking his surgical mask.

"You alright there, dumbass?" the corpsman asked him.

The marine ripped the mask off with a grunt and spat some blood onto the dirt beside him. "I think my nose is broken," he grumbled.

"Probably," the corpsman replied. "I tried to get you to move, didn't I?" He inched up to the gryphon and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You still in any pain?"

"N- no," the gryphon replied with a tremble, "but I'm really," he gestured his beak to his groin, "you know..."

The corpsman gave a small nod and said, "Yea. You're real dehydrated anyway. Let's get you inside." He helped the mutant to his digitigrade paws and began walking him toward the quarantine tent.

The marine, stuffing tissue into his bleeding nose signaled Samorn to follow. She and the rest of the mutated survivors that were still waiting were ushered into the exam rooms of the massive quarantine tent. The massive single story structure was made of a metal frame and white tarp like material for its walls and black for its roof. It was well lit inside and had hundreds of orange and black biohazard signs posted periodically along the outer walls.

It was fairly noisy in there, but Samorn could still overhear some of the commotion outside, ranging from helicopters or jets flying by to the chatter of marines and navy corpsman outside the exam room she waited in.

The corpsman that came in to see her took blood and saliva samples first, which didn't bother her, but the sample of vaginal fluid he was required to take was not so agreeable. Nevertheless she let the man do it even though it embarrassed her to be brought to arousal in front of a complete stranger. Even he sighed nervously as he began, reassuring her that it would be over before she knew it.

"Jeez!" Samorn joked, shaking slightly as he worked between her legs using gloved fingers to dampen the dark Y-shaped folds of her canine sex. "I don't even have your phone number and your already sneaking a poke in... Eh, marine?"

The corpsman stopped momentarily, glancing up at her with a quizzical look, concealed somewhat by his surgical mask. Samorn's face was caught somewhere between a suppressed grin on her muzzle and lustful gaze in her eyes.

He snickered nervously before continuing. "I'm- uh- I'm a sailor, technically," the young man said, refocusing on his work. "Despite the Marine uniform, I'm actually a Navy man... I know it's confusing, but- the Army and Air Force have medics. We have Navy corpsmen... Ok, there we go." The corpsmen stood up and carefully scraped what fluid remained on his surgical glove into a small specimen container that contained what fluid he could retrieve from her.

"Somehow I already knew that," Samorn said softly, trembling slightly with labored breath.

"Again, I'm really sorry we have to do this," the man said and carefully removed his gloves, tossing them into a biohazard receptacle then quickly used a bottle of hand sanitizer.

Samorn crossed her legs and smiled up at him, rubbing her thigh with her paw like hand. "It's alright," she said with a lustful smile on her mixed breed face, her tongue briefly licking her black lips. "I'd let you finish if you weren't too busy." Her eyes shot open as embarrassment overwhelmed her again, somewhat suppressing her steadily increasing libido. "Oh god! I can't believe I just said that," she apologized, shifting to sitting up straight on the cot. "I'm so sorry. I bet you have a family and everything." She shook her head, folding her arms tight to her modest breasts. "I used to be just a dog for fuck sakes- this is so wrong." She buried her face in her paws, sighing hard.

The corpsman paused, looking down at her with an understanding gaze. "It's fine. Just try and relax. I've seen it a dozen times so far. Here." He patted his pockets before pulling out what looked to be a sample packet of vitamin pills. "Samorn."

She looked at him, seeing the packet in his outstretched hand. "What is it?" she asked.

"Just a collection of anaphrodisiac supplements. They'll take the edge off for a while. Maybe even stop you from going into heat while they last. A few days at least."

"Heat? ... But I... I was spade."

"Well... The infection undid that... Sorry."

Sighing she hesitatingly took the packet, tore it open and emptied the contents into her paw hand.

"Hang on, I'll go get you some water," the corpsman said and headed out of the room to find her a water bottle. Upon returning he saw that she had already popped the pills into her muzzle. He unscrewed the cap on the water bottle and handed it to her. She downed nearly half of it in one go, swallowing the pills in the process.

"Thank you," Samorn said, wiping her glistening lips with the back of a paw. "For everything. Thank you."

"It's my job," the corpsman replied, smiling at her. "You should get some rest. I'll be back in a few hours."

After the corpsman left the room Samorn decided it would be best to take a nap on the cot provided for her, doing her best to calm herself in spite of what she had seen and been through that hellish day. She couldn't fight back tears for long and quietly wept for a moment before drifting off into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

The lone navy corpsmen was standing across from her as she woke some hours later. He had his back turned to her and was busy tapping away on a tablet computer. The young man was still wearing his desert pattern Marine Corps fatigues, tan boots and cap, but had since removed his surgical mask. He possessed no weapon, other than a tactical folding knife clipped in his front pocket.

"Are you awake?," the corpsmen asked.

Samorn stretched out every limb, including her tail and let out a dog like yawn and sat up. She noticed a pair of tan shorts and a nylon belt lying next to the cot. There was also a decent sized tactical pocket knife with them as well.

"I'll take that as a yes," the corpsman said happily as he turned around to look at her, placing the tablet on a foldable table beside him. "Those shorts are for you. I cut a hole in the back for your tail, if that'll help."

"Thanks," Samorn said, and began slipping the shorts and belt on. When she finished she sat back on the cot and examined the knife, flicking open the four inch clip point blade. It looked expensive and expertly honed. "Um, what's this for?"

"Your protection," the corpsman replied with a smile.

"But..." Samorn lifted her paw like hand and flexed her deadly looking claws that reflected the light as if polished. "Is it really necessary?" She gestured to her hand with a smirk, closing the knife and clipping it in her pocket.

"Of coarse. When all else fails... Anyway, it looks like you're clear. We ran a full pathogen test and we found nothing in your saliva or blood to worry about. You are still contagious- um- sexually, however, but other than that you're safe for physical contact."

Samorn fidgeted, not knowing exactly how to reply to such news. She remembered sleeping next to Aston in the abandoned motel the night of the cordon breach. She had licked him on the lips by accident, but was relieved when he didn't mutate as a result, giving merit to what the corpsman told her.

"Well... I guess that's good news," the pretty dog woman replied, shifting nervously on the cot. "Any news on my father? Have they arrived yet?"

The corpsman sighed. "I'm sorry, but the Lieutenant Colonel lost contact with the chopper shortly after they entered the commercial district of the city. We can't be too hasty to draw conclusions about what happened to them, but... I'm sure it's just a communication's problem. We've been picking up crazy electro-magnetic anomalies coming from the city ever since this all started... Don't lose hope. Ok? What was his name, uh- Aston? If he's who you say he is, I'm sure he's fine! Besides, he's with some high speed shoot to kill types. They'll stop at nothing to make sure he makes it out."

Samorn crossed her arms and hugged her white furred belly. "What now?" she asked.

"Um... Well, if it were up to me I'd discharge you, but it may take some time before we're allo-" Suddenly a voice came from his radio. "Uh, hang- hang on one minute, please," he said, unclipping his radio from his belt. "Yes, Major?" He asked into it, briefly holding a button on it.

"We need you to take her to see Secretary Karim right away," the voice ordered. "He said it's urgent."

"How urgent?"

"Very. I'd move your ass if I were you! The chopper's already there."

"Roger. On our way," the corpsman replied and re-clipped his radio. "Samorn. I'm gonna need you to follow me, please..."

The two rushed out of the tent and out into the main courtyard of the F.O.B. where the helicopter pad and staging areas were located. The sun was setting but the base was well lit with flood lights. In spite of it being night the base was still bustling with activity, but was less intense now that the survivors had been cared for. Some were standing around and chatting with each other or with idle marines, some even laughing. Samorn observed a small group of marines chatting with what at first appeared to be a giant, man sized raven, but a shifting of its wings revealed a pair of black feathered arms terminating in dark talon like hands.

Off in the distance the sound of a heavy machine gun firing a burst made Samorn pause. Somehow she was able to tell exactly the type of weapon it was, simply by the sound. She had similar thoughts creep into her mind throughout the day, but was unable to ascertain why. She could tell the ranks of service members by simply glancing at the stripes and patches on their shoulders. Somehow her mind was able to label every weapon and piece of equipment she saw; every vehicle as well. It baffled her to no end.

"Samorn?" the corpsman asked, realizing she was no longer behind him. "Are you ok?"

"Yea," She replied, shooting him a small grin. "That was an M2HB, .50 Caliber."

"Uh-huh," the corpsman replied. "Lets move, please."

"But... How do I know this shit?" Samorn asked as the pair continued toward the heli-pad.

"We have a theory. I'll have to fill you in on the ride."

"Where are we going?"

"Oakland. I can't say why right now- it's classified."

The corpsman was handed a tactical vest covered in various pouches and his M16 as they arrived at a waiting Huey. He climbed into it first and turned to give Samorn a hand. She strapped herself in as the door to the Huey was closed.

Seated inside the Huey were several US Army soldiers decked out in special forces gear. She immediately recognized them as belonging to the US Army Rangers, and an odd sense of calm overcame her. The men noticed her eying them up but didn't seem to mind. The ranger next to her smiled at her, but seemed a little put off by her canine appearance.

"I don't bite, Ranger," she teased him. "Unless you're into that." Samorn sat back in her seat and looked up at the ceiling of the cabin, embarrassment overtaking her again. "Ah, shit. There I go again."

The helicopter began powering up and took off a moment later, speeding toward an undisclosed location in Oakland, California.

Meanwhile... Somewhere over small town California...

The inside of the helicopter was near silent apart from the ever present sound of the rotors and occasional conversation among the marines. It was soothing, much like a white noise to Aston and Max.

After being airborne for several minutes Aston peered out of the ovoid window beside him, curious as to what was happening in the area. He observed mostly the dry, rocky terrain of that part of California, but would sometimes see the odd stray mutant creature trying to find rescue, avoid capture, or being captured or rescued by groups of military or specially equipped animal control and police teams. Aston thought the concept of being taken by animal control to be somewhat dehumanizing, but quickly abandoned the thought, given the creature's appearances he'd seen.

Large pillars of black smoke rose from the devastated small towns the marines and navy were finishing up their search and rescue missions in. Bodies of feral mutants littered the streets of all of the towns they flew over and Aston could see several US Army engineering and hazmat crews just beginning to dowse flames and dispose of the dead infected by setting larger corpses ablaze or sealing human sized corpses in black bags. It looked as though the state police had showed up to the region as well to block any roads leading into it, much to the dismay of several vehicles trying to get through, only to be turned away. If only they knew the hell that lay just beyond the barricades, Aston thought.

The freeways were eerily deserted, apart from a few military or government vehicles going to and from the quarantine border.

"My god... I wonder if they found any survivors out there," Max uttered, gesturing out one of the windows toward a town that was in complete ruin.

"I'm sure they did," a marine replied.

"Some of those towns look like they got hit up a lot worse than others," another remarked.

"Looks like it," Max replied. "Damn."

"The town you two were in was the worst, but we rescued about a hundred people."

"A hundred?" Aston asked. "There were over three thousand living there."

"It spread too fast, man," a marine retorted. "You should know, you were in the middle of it. Don't go blaming us, cowboy."

"I'm not saying you guys should have done more, I'm just... Twenty nine hundred people dead for nothing. You know?"

"Yea, I hear ya, man. Shit's gonna make us forget nine eleven ever even happened."

Aston tittered. "Can't argue with that."

"Oh well," the lieutenant cut in, "It's the state fuzz and Army's problem now. We're done for the time being."

Max relaxed in his seat and looked at the lieutenant who sat leisurely across from him. "Hey, Lieutenant," he began, "what are you guys gonna do with me and the other- uh, Infected- you know, when we get there?" he asked, more anxious than curious.

The lieutenant glanced at him and shrugged his shoulders. "I wasn't told, exactly," he said. "I assume you'll be staying at the F.O.B. until you're cleared as noninfectious or something. I wish I knew more, buddy. I'm sorry."

Max began looking even more nervous, his ears lowering as he glanced at Aston. "I got a bad feeling..." he added softly.

"Look, don't sweat it," the lieutenant went on. "We have very strict orders about how we're to deal with the infected, and as long as I have a say in the matter, I'll-"

Suddenly a faint voice sounded from the lieutenant's ear piece, interrupting him. He stopped talking and placed a hand on his radio, looking away as he listened for a moment.

"Sir, we have two civilians on board. We should let them off at the F.O.B. first," the lieutenant spoke, briefly pressing a button on his radio. His face shifted from a calm visage to a scowl of disbelief as he listened to the officer on the other end, his mouth agape as he silently mouthed, 'what the fuck?' "Understood, Colonel. We'll make it happen," he said after about a minute with a slightly outraged tone in his voice. He removed his finger from the button on his radio and quietly grumbled an obscenity before standing up. He stormed to the rear of the helicopter and stopped next to the marine manning the ramp machine gun then quickly turned to face the rest of the group. "Ok, marines, listen up," he said loudly. "I got some shitty news... We're being redirected to the Fairhaven commercial district..."

Some of the marines showed expressions of shock, gasping and going wide eyed as they heard their leader speak. Noticing this the lieutenant gave them a few seconds to process the news.

"Yep!" he began again. "Now, I know, I know, we were told that we are not supposed to go into that shit hole for a few weeks yet, but- unfortunately, we are the only asset available for this op." The lieutenant placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head in discontent for a moment before getting his squad's attention again. "Our new objective is to exfil a team of special forces currently in possession of vital precious cargo. Our team will be going alone as to not draw too much attention. The rest will continue on to the F.O.B." The platoon leader glanced at Aston and Max, letting out a brief sigh. "We will link up with the rest of our unit once we get those boys and their package out of there. It should be a quick in and out if what I'm being told about the area holds out. I will need you to practice extreme trigger discipline! Don't any of you fire a single round unless you think your life is in absolute danger! -- Besides, we probably won't be more than a hundred meters from the chopper during the whole thing so if things happen to get hairy, we'll be able to get out of there posthaste... One last, and very important thing," his voice deepened with graveness. "If any of you happen to gain any- extra body parts: fur, claws, tail or anything not one hundred percent human during this mission -- you will not be returning with us. You will be left inside the quarantine perimeter to fend for yourselves until we move in to reclaim the city. So- lets all leave the same way we went in! Understood?"

The dozen marines on board barked, "Yes sir!" with suppressed unease in their voices.

"Just fuckin' with you about that last part," he jokingly added a second later, getting a tiny amount of amusement from their reactions. "I don't care what the Colonel says, I'm leaving nobody behind. But, still, let's try to keep our pants on the whole time. Ok?"

"Yes sir," the marines replied again, seeming less nervous than before, some chuckling.

"Besides, y'all are already so fuckin' ugly I don't think I'd be able to tell if you're a mutant or not."

The marines snickered silently at the lieutenant's last joke and began conversing among themselves as the helicopter began banking in the direction of the city, away from the security of the accompanying attack helicopters and the company of the other two dozen platoon members.

"Well... That doesn't sound good," Aston mentioned quietly, shooting Max a sarcastically worried look as he tried his best to eavesdrop on what the marines were saying to each other. From what he could hear they were regaling each other with rumors they've heard about the disturbing happenings inside the city in the previous days. Stories ranging from people turning into animals simply by wearing fur, to one man transforming into an anthropomorphic sable because that just happened to be the type of car he drove. All farfetched tales, Aston reassured himself.

The lieutenant grunted in displeasure as he returned. "God-fucking-dammit!" he bitterly whispered as he plopped down in his seat across from Aston. He briefly buried his face in his gloved hands with a long groan as the two civilians watched him with anticipation.

"What?" the marine suddenly barked as he leered up.

"So..." Aston slowly said. "We are not going to the F.O.B. I take it."

The platoon leader removed his kevlar helmet and placed it hard on the empty bench space next to him. "Uh, not yet," he replied, leaning forward to rest his head in his hand.

"What's wrong?" Max asked.

"Nothin'," the marine replied, "this just ain't our job, man." He was obviously trying to keep his anger in check as he sat up to look at Max, huffing sharply. "We're an expeditionary force, ok?" he continued. "We're meant for rapid response, reconnoitering, shit like that. We're not supposed to go flying into some fuckin' ass rape haven blind, with no backup, just so we can pick up some fuckin' spec ops cowboys and their god forsaken package, whatever it is. -- And my C.O. didn't even give a flying fuck that you two were on board. I guess you're not considered precious cargo. Just as expendable as the rest of us, but some sample- or whatever, is just the holy fuckin' grail..."

The group, including the marines manning the ramp and side machine guns looked at the lieutenant with blank and confused expressions, most likely confused as to why an officer would say such things with obvious derision in his voice.

Beginning to realize how much of a fool he was making of himself, and getting a nervous twinge in his spine from Aston's stern gaze, the lieutenant straightened up some and replaced his helmet.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked, gazing sharply at everyone as they stared. They resumed their business after an awkward second. "I'm not talkin' to you!"

"Not that you probably give a shit, sir," Aston began in a sharp tone, without waiting for the lieutenant's response. "My father was a marine. That's right. Your unit, I'm bettin',- 3rd Battalion, 1st Marine Division- yea?"

"Yea... 1st Marines..."

"I think he'd be damn pissed at you for the way your acting right now!"

"You think so, huh?" the lieutenant straightened up in his seat, leering at Aston.

"Look... I know all this insanity is getting to you. But dude, it's getting to all of us, so what good does it fuckin' do to- act like a jackass? You're an officer for Christ sakes, you can't lose your cool this fast. You just can't."

The marine shook his head after staring into Aston's eyes for a moment then let out a sharp exhale. "I know- you're right."

"Well, than what the hell's your problem?"

"Just..." the lieutenant shook his head slightly and began peering out of the ramp beside him. "Can't get over how stupid my superiors are being right now."

"Well you need to," Aston went on, after a calming breath. "Your men need a leader, and with what we're about to walk into, -- they'll need a good one! -- Look at them." Aston gestured toward the marines. "They're scared..."

The Lieutenant let out a small sigh and looked at Aston with a conscience stricken gaze. "I'm- sorry," he said, a softer tone in his voice, "but I've lost several marines since this all began, and some of them didn't have the luxury of dying. I can't..." He choked back a tear and looked off at the helicopter's ramp.

"It's alright man. Like I said, this situation is nuts. Just the existence of dog boy here," he gestured to Max, "is enough to make anyone's head spin."

"Dog boy? Really?" Max scoffed as he leered at Aston, a subtle smirk on his muzzle.

"Lieutenant McCray!" one of the pilots said. "We're on approach, sir! Eight mikes to H.L.Z.."

"Roger!" the lieutenant replied, wiping his eyes with his thumbs. "Well... This should be a fun learning experience."

After another minute of flight Aston looked out the window in time to watch as they passed high over the quarantine border. For him, it was the most incredible feat of human coordination he'd ever seen. At the business side of the defensive perimeter was a massive line of army, national guard, and marine corps troops in full MOPP combat gear, machine gun nests, concrete and hesco wall barriers lined with concertina wire, Abrams tanks and other armored vehicles, all creating an impenetrable wall that stretched as far as the eye could see, surrounding the whole of Fairhaven. Aston imagined that there must have been a similar barrier of coast guard and navy vessels stationed off the coast of the city's beach front to prevent anyone or anything from escaping by way of the ocean.

On the other side of the fortress like border were several army and marine corps bases of various sizes and purposes, some directly connected to the border itself, others a distance from it. All of them were swarming with troops, vehicles and helicopters landing and taking off. Aston could only imagine what those places would look like after the chaos in the city had come to a conclusion, if ever.

Aston whispered his amazement to himself as he gazed in awe at the military's efforts in the region.

"Yea," began Lieutenant McCray. "It's the largest effort of its kind in human history. So far, anyway. Every hot zone around the world is seeing something similar, albeit on a smaller scale."

"I've seen it on the news," said Aston as he relaxed in his seat. "Crazy shit..."

"The news, huh?" a marine interjected. "I'm shocked they found the time to even cover a minute of this shit."

"Well, you know," Aston happily replied, "when people around the globe start turning into sex hungry animals and killer robots they have to give it at least thirty seconds of bullshit coverage. Maybe a sidebar."

"There is that clip they keep replaying of the reporter somewhere in, like, Michigan, or somewhere," Lieutenant McCray added, "where she has no clue there's a big- leopard- taur- thing, creeping up behind her. Have you seen that? I have a feeling she shat her pants when she turned around."

"Wouldn't you?" Max asked with a chuckle.

"Yea, probably. Sane monster or not. Those taur things just, ugh!" the lieutenant cringed. "They creep me out."

A female marine added, "I think they're cute. I think I'll bribe one into letting me walk it through my hometown on a leash someday. Bring the spark back to that city!"

"Only you would want something like that," the lieutenant joked. "Dork!"

The helicopter made its way at full speed over the ruined city, far above even the tallest buildings as to not draw the attention of the various creatures, some massive and dragon like, flying among the city's high rise skyscrapers that were in various stages of ruin.

Smoke billowed from the area around the capital building and Aston could have sworn he saw the area torn apart, as if by an earthquake or volcanic eruption. Several of the buildings around the area had collapsed as well with some of the fissures that ran through the streets cutting into ruined, scorched buildings. A few of the craters and fissures seemed to be filled with molten rock, but Aston wrote it off as a trick his eyes played on him.

A curious winged creature began following the helicopter after they passed the high rise district. It appeared to be some sort of an anthropomorphic avian person with a humanoid body covered in hawk pattern feathers. It had talon tipped hands and the feet and head of a hawk with the broad wings and tail to complete the picture.

Lieutenant McCray promptly stood up and walked to the ramp with his rifle trained on the creature.

"Hold your fire," he told the ramp machine gunner and began trying to shoo the creature away, shaking his head and waving his hand.

"Want me to scare it?" the gunner asked.

"No, we can't risk it," the lieutenant replied. "If he gets too close fire a burst, but don't kill him. He's just happy to see us."

"Roger."

The lieutenant returned to his seat but kept his eyes on the avian being.

Ahead, just outside of the downtown area was Fairhaven's commercial district, comprised primarily of shops, restaurants, hotels, and middle to lower class apartment buildings. Most of the buildings were in mixed states of ruin from what Aston could tell from the helicopter's windows, some even burned completely to the ground or seemed to have been razed by large creatures or out of control vehicles.

The helicopter suddenly began to descend rapidly and began approaching a multi story strip mall surrounded on three sides by apartments. It seemed as if the avian man had flown off, but Aston had a suspicion that he would be back.

"HLZ in sight, Lieutenant. One mike out," one of the pilots said.

"Alright, marines, keep your heads in it!" Lieutenant McCray ordered. "We're not in Kansas anymore. We're down the rabbit hole poppin' acid and 'shrooms, so uh... Don't let anything you see distract you from our objective." He looked at Max and Aston and said, "You two don't move an inch unless I tell you."

"No problem," Aston said nodding subtly.

"Uh... Lieutenant!" one of the pilots said as the helicopter took up a holding pattern some fifty feet above the strip mall. "You need to see this, right now!"

Lieutenant McCray quickly stood up and walked to the front of the helicopter. Aston watched as he peered out of the cockpit's window at something, stopping dead still. Aston couldn't hear precisely what was being said but it didn't sound as though the lieutenant or the pilots were thrilled at any rate with what they saw.

The helicopter steadily turned around to begin landing on the roof of the strip mall. Aston kept his eyes glued to the rear ramp, hoping to see what was so upsetting to the lieutenant.

The roof slowly came into view, and what the group saw made the their faces go awestruck. The marine manning the ramp machine gun jolted slightly as he looked on, but quickly lowered the weapon on its turret, taking one hand off of it.

Not a single person on board the Sea Knight could conceal their shock as they gazed on at a sight more surreal than any they had seen yet. Several marines provided utterances of their astonishment.

Aston could only say, "Now... Those are fucking awesome."

Standing in a V formation on the roof were five tall figures dressed in tactical vests and the modified remains of tattered US Army fatigues with the sleeves of the shirt and lower legs of the pants trimmed off. They were not human at all, but still stood in a relative military fashion with their customized rifles slung leisurely across their chests, suppressor tipped barrels pointed down between their inhuman feet, ready to be brought into action in less than a moment's notice.

The creatures were tall, each of them somewhere between seven and eight feet in height. Their mutated bodies had taken on the from of an anthropomorphic eagle, humanoid in stature with the white feathered heads, piercing eyes, and deadly looking beak of a bald eagle. Massive brown feathered wings protruded just behind their shoulder blades and broad white feathered eagle tails jutted just above their asses, all folded at that moment. Their digitigrade legs ended in broad, deadly looking talons, while their hands stayed relatively human apart from the yellow scaly skin from just above the wrists on down, fingers terminating with short talons.

"Team, move! Set up security!" Lieutenant McCray ordered as the helicopter touched down softly on the roof, lowering the power to its rotors.

The lieutenant was the first to exit the helicopter. He steadily approached the anthro eagle spec-ops soldiers, keeping his rifle slung across his chest as if there was something inside him that didn't trust the creatures. The dozen marines exited down the ramps not a second later and took up security positions along the edge of the roof, keeping their weapons aimed anywhere a hostile mutant could come from. They stayed crouched behind the low wall edging the roof, occasionally glancing at the tall figures in the center.

"Afternoon, Lieutenant," the leader of the eagle squad said as he held a hand out to shake McCray's. "Captain Anso, 327th, 101st Airborne." It was odd how he spoke. Aston could see his beak barely open and the sides of it slightly move, yet somehow he was able to form full words.

"Lieutenant McCray, 1st Marines," Lieutenant McCray replied, some disturbance still in his voice as he shook the creature's talon like hand. "Um..." He glanced around at the eagle morphs as they went to help the marines secure the roof. "Holy, shit. You mind filling me in on- this, Captain?" he asked with a nervous laugh.

"Yea. I know it's quite the shock," the eagle man replied. "We started becoming like this shortly after we jumped out of the AC-130 and finished changing by the time we pulled our chutes, not that we really needed them." The eagle man flexed his wings. "I guess it fits with our nickname now, so we got that goin' for us."

"The Screaming Eagles. Yep..." The lieutenant looked around, at a loss for further words.

"Yea. Anyway, sorry we had to pull your unit apart for this, but command wants some government egg heads stationed in Oakland to run tests to find out why we transformed without any sort of direct contact. We've seen it happen to some civilians in our time here as well but apparently our scientists don't have any artifacts or corresponding mutants to run tests on."

"We've heard the rumors," McCray glanced around to check on his marines, having obvious difficulty making eye contact with Captain Anzo. "I guess they're true... Some creepy ass shit. Why'd they send you in, anyway, sir?"

"We volunteered, brother. On day one. We saw Americans in harms way and-"

Suddenly, one of the helicopter's gunners shouted, "Contact, right," and began firing his .50 caliber machine gun at something approaching the strip mall. Aston and Max froze in their seats, watching the marines and eagle soldiers flinch, duck and shudder from the sudden thunderous gunfire. Fearlessly the troops all rushed to the edge of the roof to confront whatever it was with their weapons at the ready.

The sound of a deep roar shook the area and the leader of the eagle squad ordered everyone to fall back and find cover. He then ordered two of his eagle men and a couple marines to stay with him so they could try to slow down the creature's rapid advance. The men obeyed, shouting and firing burst after burst at the creature before being forced to flee as well.

Lieutenant McCray sprinted toward the ramp of the helicopter as the others ran to take cover behind the roof's air conditioners and other structures. "Aston, Max, get the hell out of there, now!" he barked.

Before the pair of civilians could move a muscle in their legs a massive shadow draped over the helicopter momentarily as the creature reached the strip mall's roof. Everyone on it scrambled to all sides, aimed their weapons in the creature's direction and began firing.

Lieutenant McCray desperately gestured for Aston and Max to get out of the helicopter when suddenly a massive winged beast swooped over him in the blink of an eye, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. He managed to fire a burst of his rifle as he fell, scoring a couple hits on the beast that sparked off of its tough hide.

A trail of blood rained down on the roof as it swooped back around and Aston noticed that one of the marines had been snatched up in the monster's bat like wing talons. A short but horrific scream came from the man as the beast tore him apart above the roof, messily devouring his severed body.

The ramp gunner sprayed burst after burst at the fleeting silhouette of the fast creature, swinging the turreted weapon as fast as he could. Suddenly the surprisingly agile beast changed directions faster than anyone could react, slamming its heavy reptilian body into the front of the helicopter, destroying the front rotor. The Sea Knight lurched violently from the beast's impact and slid to the edge of the roof causing everyone in it to be thrown violently to the walls and floor of the cabin.

The beast began ferociously tearing through the cockpit with the fore-talons of its scaly, bat like wings, brutally crushing the screaming pilots in their seats in a bloody mess. It then proceeded to rapidly tear through the cockpit with its wrenching jaws, nearly removing the entire thing in an attempt to reach the bodies of the pilots. All the while the beast was being pelted with precise automatic weapons fire from the shouting men and women on the roof.

Aston tried his best to get up but the semi truck sized reptile's constant movements kept rocking the helicopter, preventing him from finding any bearing. One of the helicopter crewman managed to get up and manned his machine gun once again, moving the turreted weapon up to fire at what little of the monster's wings that were within reach. The heavier rounds tore through the wings, and punctured its tail several times, blowing a spiked chunk off the end.

The creature was quick to react. Through his blurred vision Aston watched in terror as blood and some entrails were sprayed across the floor and walls of the cabin as the side gunner was reduced to a severed lower torso of flesh by the beast's heavy reptilian tail that had forced its way through the gunner's side opening, destroying his machine gun as well. The other marine crewman dove hard to the floor of the cabin, avoiding the thick swinging limb as he drew a pistol and began firing rapidly into it, not that the puny rounds did much more than spark off of it.

Enraged, the beast withdrew its bleeding tail and turned its hulking body around. It tore into the cabin some more, trying to get better access to the potential meals inside before being pelted in the face and neck with more gun fire.

The dragon like beast roared at the marines and eagle soldiers then reared up, spreading and flapping its massive wings. It charged at them with a guttural hiss, it's powerful rear legs kicking hard at the teetering remains of the helicopter as it leaped, it's heavy lashing tail causing the lifeless chopper to begin hanging dangerously over the edge of the roof.

Screams and more intense gunfire could be faintly heard over the sound of the beast's roaring before gravity pulled the wreck of the helicopter over the edge. Aston felt himself become airborne before blacking out as soon as the wreck of the helicopter crashed hard to the street below...