FSE

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The most dangerous mutants in the wastelands by far, the Scourged are horrifyingly blistered animals boiled alive in their own body fluids when the ZR-5s detonated. Understanding their mutations and handicaps, they work together to set and bait stupidly complicated, overly lethal traps that are impossible to escape for anything but a demon. Do not underestimate their danger.

James's basement reminded me of something I heard Pre-War off one of my content sharing websites. In the first few years of a disaster, the survivors will likely thrive off an abundance of supplies. Abundance of supplies wasn't accurate for the stash that James was concealing underneath his floor boards. I don't really have a single word for it, so I'll give a detailed brake down instead. Against all four walls, side some space by the stair well door that allowed it to swing out, four layer shelves, from floor to ceiling, rounded the room. These shelves contained carriers, fatigues, helmets, gloves and boots, all in new, unopened condition, looking like it had come right from the factory. More shelves were arranged in the middle of the room forming store like isles which contained helmets with built in ear pro, night optics, strike face plates and bundles of pouches for applications ranging from stripper clip fed bolt actions to M4s and Kalashnikovs. Boxes on the floor contained ammunition, various weapon attachments, mostly lights and optics as well as suppressors and bayonets. Of course, it didn't go unquestioned how he had come to acquire all this, and his explanation was one we probably shouldn't have forced out of him the way we did.

"My Dad", He said with a sigh, "like yours, Arien, he knew the bombs were coming weeks before they actually came, pulled some strings and called in a few favors with his buddies in the DOD and got an entire condex box of equipment drop shipped directly to this house, but before he could get back the bombs started falling. The Air Force called him up...and I never saw him again. Which is good."

"How is losing your Dad a good thing?", Nat asked.

"I don't want him to know how fall I've fallen since the war ended", he said, "Imagine if you met your kid after five years and then you found out he went from being the kid that everyone liked to someone prone to psychotically violent outbursts of homicidal rage and a habit of eating animals just for the hell of it."

"If I meet either my puppies it'd be in a PTSD induced nightmare", Nat said with a fire in her eyes.

I took James aside as Ben stepped in front of Nat.

I exhaled,shaking my head and laughing nervously, "you struck that nerve hard brother. One thing you learn about Nat is that you NEVER, and I do mean NEVER, mention anything about her puppies while she's in the room unless you want to die."

"I didn't mean to offend anyone", James said.

"I know, I know, and she does too, but she can't help it, she'll even snap at Nero and Mya if she overhears them chatting about it. Promise me that isn't a hole you wanna jump down."

"Oh", James said. He turned back to Nat, "didn't mean to get under your skin."

"I know", Nat said, "I know, just reflex at this point."

And with that, we set to work and overhauled our equipment from head to toe. Starting with our boots, the shit we were wearing was replaced with the new Vibirams with steel toes and Goretex lining, I doubted we'd need the Goretex but the steel toe would come in handy, for sure. Next came our actual fatigues. We ditched our normal clothes for Aird Multicam BDU's and completely rebuilt our LBE from the ground up. We got new helmets with NV and radio gear, as well as designatiors for our rifles, the good ones with the IR laser that could only be seen in the NV goggles, something I imagined we'd be getting a lot of use out of the further south we went. New gloves rounded everything out, and by the time it was all done and everything packed away, my crew was put together like a unit of the regular military. All of the gear was brand new and clean, already a plus even though we all knew it wouldn't stay that way. As my friends were clearing out of the basement, I noticed something sticking out of one of the boxes and went over to it. Popping the cover, it was the handle of a revlover, but not just any revlover.

"What the hell?", I asked aloud picking up the revlover, felt odd to_finally_ hold one in my paws, "James, where the hell did you get an MP-412 REX?"

"My Dad brought it back from the Moscow Front", James said, "he didn't like it very much, can't understand why, it's a nice little revlover."

"Can I have it?", I asked, "I've wanted one forever."

"Take it", he shrugged, "doesn't mean anything to me."

"Sweetness", I said stuffing the revlover into my vest and joining my team. There was nothing to do now but wait, so we spread out and did just that. James went back upstairs to his room, Zack, Ben, Nat and Shannon went to hang out in the garage while Eirren and I stayed in the living room, keeping a close eye on Nero and Mya, who were camped out in the hallway near the return air vent. In recent years the power of centralized air had been lost to me. James had a monster eight ton package unit equipped with a badass flooded humidifier blowing into every corner of the house, leaving things quite comfortable while the sun broiled outside, leaving the windows too hot to comfortably touch.

"Forgot how much I liked central air", I said looking up from the P-94 Manual I'd found some weeks back, "think that Nero and Mya would believe us if we told them that every building was pretty much required to have one of these pre war?"

"Don't know", Eirren said, "the odds that they'll know how to work a thermostat when they're our ages isn't great, their kids won't know how and their grand pups might think that package units were assembled by Gods."

"Really think we'll fall that far in two generations?", I asked.

She nodded, "sad to say. Find one animal our age Pre-War that knew how to work something without it's own app."

"Fair point", I sighed.

Eirren and I stayed in the living room for most of the day. At around 3 in the afternoon, she went out into the garage to hang out with the other's while I stayed in the living room looking out into the wasteland from the one window that wasn't boarded up. From my position on the couch, I could hear Nero and Mya chatting

"And then Martin said that she'd have her pick of nay male she wanted because there were sixteen males for every female in that part of America", Nero laughed, "I wish I could have seen the look on Sara's face, must have been priceless. I could certainly smell the venom welling up in the back of her throat."

Mya giggled, "Kyle used to troll Rigby like that too. He had a girlfriend he was keeping secret from our parents for god only knows what reason."

"Probably got her pregnant", Nero snarked.

"You know it would make sense", Mya agreed, "way Kyle held it over him that might not be far from the truth, but anyway, what happened next?"

"For a while nothing. We sat in the shade of that truck for two or three hours before Martin got concerned and got up to check. Next thing I knew there was gun fire erupting from the building, I heard a window brake and then Martin snarling like a Rabid has he ripped one of the bandits apart."

At this point, I put my book down and went to the hallway door, peeking around the corner. Nero was looking towards the floor, his ears perked up. There was a distant, vacant look on his face. I'd seen it before, but never in someone as young as he was.

"Martin could get super violent super quickly, he'd always been like that, but he killed that bandit with a level of savagery I didn't know he possessed. It was shortly after he'd finished that one bandit that two more showed up, and Martin managed to start up a conversation with them. Quebec Federal police, put the knife on the ground or I'm going to kill you. Straight to the point huh officer? The bandit laughed at him, were those your kids we killed in side? I only heard Martin snarl and the bandit replied, or where they your parents? And, after that", Nero continued, "it was just...death. Martin went Feral and the bandit killed him for it. Sara and I managed to escape death then, but later that night, a big Feral dragon happened to pop by and carried her off. I don't know if she lived or not. Arien thinks I don't know what happened to my family...I let him think that."

"Why?"

The thought raced through my head as soon as Mya spoke the words.

"Sometimes when Arien wakes me up in the morning...he sounds so much like my Dad I have to fight to keep from crying", He said staring blankly at the ground, ears still perked and eyes wide open, "Martin and my Dad were stone cold killers because they had to be, and they got butchered by some psycho with a knife. Imagine what a sane animal who knows how to shoot could to do us?"

Mya sighed, "I know how you feel Nero."

"No you don't", he said.

Mya put her paws atop his, "yes...yes I do. Like a week before I met you, my brother Kyle turned Rabid. He'd gotten bitten on one of his and Rigby's scavenging runs and wasn't able to deal with it very well. He lost like 14 pounds, all of his fur and as far as I know didn't get sleep until the night before that awful day. One night I had woken up parched and gone down stairs to get a drink because my Mom refused to let me keep my water bowl in my bedroom. Kyle had said earlier that night that he'd kill the next animal to make noise, so I tried to be discreet about it, but he heard me anyway. I just remember his eyes being blood red and telling me he wasn't well. Later that night we heard something crashing around downstairs and Rigby went running downstairs to make sure Kyle was okay while I went to wake up my Dad. Turns out that Kyle had a stupid craving for salt in the middle of the night and broke into our salt pack barrel."

She paused.

"Dad didn't think it was good idea to leave him alone, so we all brought our beds downstairs and camped out with him. Mom gave him something to sleep, and he seemed better in the morning."

Nero sighed, "I know how this story is going to end."

"Do you?", she asked.

He nodded, "I do."

Mya sighed, her voice cracked, "We had our last breakfast together, my Dad's friend paid us a visit, and offered to go on a scouting run with my Dad since Kyle was out of commission, but Kyle wasn't having it, and Jacob offered to give him a helping hand, so Kyle was all set to go with them when a group of bandits showed up. They were animals that my Dad had locked up Pre-War, looking for revenge I guess", Mya started to cry.

"They got it?", Nero asked.

She nodded, "one of the bandits almost cut Kyle's head off, yelling all kinds of horrible slurs as he fell to the ground and bled to death before Jacob stabbed him back."

There was a long pause.

"I'd never seen my Dad cry before."

Mya just completely broke at that point, leaning into Nero and started balling. Nero closed his eyes and held her tightly, only shedding a single tear. I leaned back against the living room wall, rubbing the back of my head and sighing. Horrible as I know I sound, kids...just aren't compatible with the world anymore. The wastelands take every chance they can get to fuck over and kill mature animals that can fend for themselves, but kids? Kids are like the level one newbie in the shooter you've played for 10 years, a free kill. Neither Nero, or Mya could have ever done anything to deserve the hand they'd been dealt, Nero more so than Mya. I made the sign of the cross, saying a prayer that we could have an uneventful remainder of the trip, that way the possibility of Nero and Mya losing someone else was slim to nothing.

I heard the door open, glancing over, Eirren and Zack were standing there.

"What are you doing on the floor for brother?", Zack asked.

"Dude...have you been crying?"

I wiped my eyes, "yeah..yeah I have."

"What for?", Zack asked, "what's the matter?"

I sighed, "if only you could have heard the last ten minutes."

"What you mean?", Zack asked.

And so I told them. I told them everything Nero had said, everything that Mya had said. Eirren listened in a state of simple shock and sorrow, while Zack seemed to get angrier and angrier the more I went on. By the time I was done, Zack seemed like he might spontaneously combust.

"I served with both those guys in France", he growled standing in the doorway, "God tell me what the fuck Kyle did to deserve that."

"He was a Coyote", Eirren said, "I'm ashamed to say I was part of that problem. Hell, there were two Coyote's that lived on the same street as Hunter and I, and after the bombs fell, them and their two puppies were burned alive on a pile of branches and then their house was looted, I even heard someone say that the town would be safer without them. Hunter, Mark and I together weren't any match for that mob, we got destroyed."

"The sad thing is I was treated like shit when I was in school for being a Hybrid, yet I beat the hell out of a few Coyote's once for just looking at me funny", I sighed standing, "we can't leave them in there like that."

Zack stuck his head back into the garage, "Hey, guys, come out here a second."

Shannon, Nat and Ben joined us in the living room.

"What up?", Nat asked.

Zack looked at me, once again, I told Nero and Mya's story. I could tell that Nat was trying hard not to set off like a roman candle, while Shannon and Benjamin just kind of listened, as if they weren't surprised. I peeked around the corner, Nero was still trying to comfort Mya, who was sobbing bitterly, still. At that point, I stepped around the corner, garnering Nero's attention. He looked up.

"Whose there?", he asked.

"It's us Nero", I said coming and sitting down by them.

"Oh God", he sighed slowly, "how...how much of that did you hear?"

"I heard enough", I said, "come here guys."

Nero and Mya crawled into my arms as we sat around them in a circle.

"Nothing's gonna happen to either of you", I said, "Promise."

"You can't promise that", Nero said, "you and I both know you can't."

"I can", I said, "as long as I've got one round in the cylinder of the REX or the chamber of the 700, no one will touch you."

"I can make you one 850 times a minute", Nat said.

"I can make you one with any small pistol caliber carbine", Shannon said.

"I can make you one with six ounces of high explosives", Benjamin said, "I served with your Dad Nero. He dragged me 20 miles back to base when a sniper split my skull on nothing more than pure Soviet Rage. I owe it to him to make sure your safe."

"Ben's right", Zack said, "Mya, I served with Kyle and Rigby when I was in France, They always told me Lesser Dogs were the most loyal of all Canines, they were wrong, Rigby took a bayonet in Paris that was met for me. I owe to both of them to make sure you stay safe."

"We're not gonna let anything happen to you guys, promise."

Nero didn't say anything. Neither did Mya. Overtime, both of them ended up falling asleep in my arms. Zack said he would take the next watch, while the others went back to what they were doing. At around eight in the evening, Benjamin poked his head into the hallway.

"Hey Ari, James want's to talk to us before we head out."

"I nodded, "Kay, lemme get the sleepin' pups off me first."

I stood careful, so as not to wake them and moved them to the couch in the living room before joining the others in the garage. With the exception of Nat and her Environment Suit, our team was now put together and organized like a unit of the regular military. Kind of felt good to be back in uniform, though I tried hard not to show it, where as Ben and Zack made no bones that they weren't really comfortable at all.

"Can't decide if I'm happy to be back in BDU's or not", he said tugging at his collar.

"Me either", Ben added, "I fucking hate desert camo."

"Well it's that or stick out like a sore claw", James shrugged leaning back against the table with a phone in his paw, "so, I was in town this afternoon, running a little recon to see what I could see, and I have something I think you should look at."

James handed me his old, cracked Iphone with a picture open on the screen. It showed a view of a house that was mostly caved in with an old camping trailer painted in tan bedliner sitting in the driveway. The size of the thing was perfect for what we'd be needing. Now having said that, I couldn't ignore the two animals standing outside of the house. The taller of the two, may or not at one point have been a dragon, now it was hard to tell. From the top of his head to just about down to his upper chest the skin was this disgusting yellowish brown and peeling off very aggressively, leaving parts of bone visible. One of his eyes had been melted out of his head and congealed while it was running down his face, leaving a sickening string of meat that reminded me so much of eggs I'd probably never eat another one ever again. I didn't see his wings, only two pieces of bone that jutted out of his back that at some point might have been his wings, but now it was hard to tell. Most of his body the rest of the way down was a mass of pussing blisters and open warts leaking fluids I could smell through the camera. Most of the skin on his right leg was stripped completely off to about three inches above the knee, leaving just bone with the foot gone completely, just sharp bone left to support himself, or herself, I legitimately couldn't tell, given the way everything on this poor dragon was just...melted.

"That...is the stuff of nightmares I tell you", I sighed handing off the phone to Eirren.

"That's the Scourged", James said, "before we go into town for your trailer, I need you to understand exactly what it is we're up against. Since the scourged first showed up, I've survived many an encounter with them, and I promise you, as you'll see, that's not an easy feat. Scourged are very psychically limited, but they are the smartest Rabids you'll come across in the wasteland."

"Everything always seems to come back to Rabies", I sighed.

"Seems like", James said, "yes, the Scourged are infected with the Rabies Virus, but Rabies alone isn't responsible for them. Scourging is what happens when someone get's boiled alive by a ZR-5, and then gets infected with the Rabies Virus. Scourged are very weak, but they understand that, and that's what makes them dangerous. They'll work together as a team to overcome each other's handicaps to set and bait lethally complex traps that are nearly impossible to escape once you step into them. Trust me, I know, because I have."

"So how'd you get out then?", Shannon asked.

"I'm a Demon", James said, "I was hungry, when you eat dead and rotting shit regularly, and you're dealing with animals that for all intents and purposes are still somewhat sane, making a snack out of their friends that ambushed you doesn't sit well. They've been trying to kill me for months now, other Demons that have wandered into town haven't been so lucky, only ones I haven't seen them kill are two Demonic Northerners that live around here, but they mostly keep to themselves."

"Why is that?", I asked.

James scoffed, "they had money to be paranoid before the bombs fell and had the skill to back it up. They've got kids to look after too, Demonic Plague doesn't treat little, feral dragons very well. Did I mention their a family of Demonic Northerners ?"

"Once", Eirren sighed.

"Now, they do live near by the area we'll be operating, but I knew both of 'em Pre-War, so they should leave us alone. Of course if we go stomping around with a full team, it's bound to attract attention. So, I'm only taking a few of you", James said, "pick."

"I'm not gonna go fight the fuckin' zombies", Shannon said, "fuck that."

"Ben, Zack and I will go", I said, "that way we have all of our basis covered, combat rifles, explosives, long range and shotguns."

"You better not die", Nat said looking at Ben, "if you do, I'mma be really pissed."

Eirren leaned in towards me, "why do I feel like..."

"Noted", Benjamin said.

"And if you survive I'm tearing those BDU's right off your body."

"Also noted", Benjamin laughed.

"How did I know that was coming?", Eirren smiled.

I grinned, shrugging, "don't know. Let's get loaded up."

2 Hours Later

Marshal Pennsylvania

Marshal was probably a ten or so minute drive from Jame's place. At around eight in the evening, we unloaded the Ford of everything that wasn't mission critical and headed out. Before pulling out of the driveway, I put the windows down, letting in the crisp, evening air. James had said that there wasn't any harm to be had in having the windows down and Radio on, so that's exactly what I decided to do. As James finished buckling, I put my foot on the clutch and gave the key a turn. The Ford shook the quiet night with two very distinct notes. One was the song of a seven liter giant woken from a peaceful slumber and the other was the bounce of deep notes as they moved air with the forward motion of the Ford as I pulled out of the driveway.

"Quick to dead the bull like a matador Quick to dead the bull like a matador Bull, bull, bull like a matador Quick to dead the bull like a matador. Cap and a stem, catch a wave on us, splish. Take a shot, make a friend, just enjoy the moment. I'm Luke Skywalkin' on these haters, splish. Celebrate every day like a birthday. Good things come to those that wait up, splish. But don't wait to jump in too long. Don't sleep, you gotta stay up, splish. Don't, don't sleep, you gotta stay up. Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Looking around the Ford as I pulled from the driveway, kicking up a cloud of dust with the gearshift, everyone looked...relaxed, for the first time since I met them. Zack was reclined in the back seat with one leg up over the other, Ben had the passenger's window down with his arm hanging out of the truck and James had put his seat almost completely down with his hands behind his head.

Ben took a deep breath, "I wish I had my Frontier. On a night like this, with the stars out, the fresh air and an empty mountain range, just me, three pedals and the road. God...I miss the old days."

"I hear ya", I said, "used to take my Tundra out on the weekend nights when it was nice all the time. Moonroof and windows down, put the transmission into standard mode and just enjoy the night."

"If only we weren't driving straight for hell", James added.

"No shit", Ben agreed.

We ended up smelling Marshal about 7 minutes before we actually got into town. I'd smelled dead animals before, in the Arctic on the Chinese battleship and then again back in Maine when we stormed a Rabid hive and found six months worth of uneaten food piled up in a room and left to rot. This...this was a complete 180 different kind of stomach turning. The best way I know how to describe it is to say it was kinda like a mix of the rotten stuff in the sink drain, mixed with fresh shrimp and skunk spray, it was one of the most vile things I'd ever smelled in my life. James explained that the smell was coming from the scourged as we pulled to a stop at the tree line, concealing the Ford, about fifty feet from the Marshal water tower, something that they couldn't really help being rotten and all.

"How is it that live animals can actually smell worse than the dead ones?", Zack asked putting his gas mask on, "I thought the Western Trench stunk."

"Good idea", I said putting my own mask on as I pulled my W1200 out of the back of the Ford. James loaded his last magazine full up with some wicked looking hollow points and rocked it into his M82. The only modification I could see to the rifle was the safety, ranging from Safe, Semi, Binary, Burst and Auto.

"What's the point of having a Barrett M82 with three round burst?", I asked, "doesn't seem to me like you could hit shit with it."

"You've never seen me shoot then", James said, "trust me, I can put all three shots through a coke can at a thousand. Lemme get into position, then we can get this going."

James slung his Burst fire franken rifle over his shoulder and started free climbing up the water tower, moving with all of the agility I'd come to expect from many of the wastelands monsters.

"Dude knows how to climb", Ben said loading a round into his M203.

"Yeah", I said, "hey Zack, can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot", he answered.

"Did Mya's brother really take a Bayonet for you?", I asked.

He nodded, "sure did. Shortly after arriving in France, me and some other guys were doing some Trench raiding. I was using a sawed off double barrel with some wicked Rat Shot in it and was coming up on a Hyena when the other Lion dropped into the trench behind me and clubbed me in the back of the head with his rifle. I spun around with the shotgun just as he was rearing back to plunge that two foot knife right through my skull. Out of utter nowhere, I hear Rigby barking and making a mad dash up the trench line with his head lowered. You have to understand Arien, Rigby wasn't built like a normal Coyote, he had body density like nothing I'd ever seen and he'd actually killed a Feral African dragon with a head but to the chest, caved his ribs in and shredded his lungs and heart. The lion of course, didn't have any trouble in skewering Rigby with that Bayonet, and in the time it took for the Lion to reach up to work his action, I retrieved my shotgun and gave him the what for.

"The US Army was still using side by sides?", I asked.

"My outfit was", Zack said, "a normal six animal team of Africans could hold their own against any full auto with their long bolt actions, sometimes I felt like we were facing minigun fire when it was five round Mausers. But get 'em alone in a trench? Rat Shot always has been, and always will be, the quickest way to deal with anyone who looks at you funny."

"Yeah and it's also the way to ensure your targets screams in unholy agony as they bleed to death from giant gaping holes in vital organs and missing limbs", Benjamin said, "I hated Rat Shot, I hated the idea of inflicting that kind of pain upon my enemy."

"Yeah, I wasn't the biggest fan of it either, but it was all the shells we had", Zack shrugged, "if it makes you feel any better, I always aimed for the head."

"It doesn't", Ben said, "whose on truck duty and whose facing the horde?"

"Zack should watch the truck", I said, "I want you with me on this Ben."

"Rodger", Ben said.

"James are you in position?", I asked over the radio.

"Yeah", James said, "scourged are out all over the place. We'll have to take this slow if we're gonna get away with your trailer. Whose gonna be driving the truck?

"I am", Zack said.

"Okay, listen up, you need to go where I tell you, when I tell you, if not, this place will quickly degenerate into a Warzone", he said, "if we have to start shooting, the night won't end well."

"So what do you need us to do?", I asked.

"See the school about 200 yards across the way?", James asked.

"Yeah", I said.

"From the cafeteria, you can reach the main entrance rather easily, I can guide you once you're there, but from the main entrance you'll be able to see the target house. From there it's a straight beeline to the Trailer, but the problem is that the Rabids have all decided to take up residence in the school parking lot, once the Ford starts, we'll have seconds to attach the trailer and get moving."

"We'll make it work", I said.

"A'ight then", James said, "let's work for a living."

I racked a shell into the 1200's chamber as I started out from the cover of the water tower, Benjamin bringing up my six. The 600 foot long field in between us and the school was nothing but flat sand covered with drifts caused by the wind and offered us no cover or concealment of any kind, but thankfully there weren't any of the scourged around to see us. At the opposite end of the field was a chain link fence that separated the driveway along the back of the school from the field. Though it was rusted out from the years of abuse and neglect that had followed the war, it was still holding steady. I put my shotgun over my back and crouched down.

"Keep an eye out", I said taking the wire cutters off the back of my vest, "gonna take me a second to get through this."

Benjamin and I started cutting on the fence, starting at the bottom and cutting the rusty links as quickly as I could. As rusted as it was, I didn't understand why it was putting up the fight that it was. It took me about five minutes to cut through the fence. Benjamin and I filed through the roadway single file until we reached the back door of the school. Looking through the old, grimy windows in the back of the school between burglar bars, I kind of laughed sarcastically at what I was seeing. The cafeteria was completely trashed, of course, and it was also filled to the brim of Scourged. I lost track at roughly 40, God only knows how many of them I counted twice.

"James, hope you can find us another way around, school is full of Rabids."

"What?", he asked.

"Cafeteria is crawling with the Scourged, trying to go through this way ends in World War Four, or our deaths."

"Shit!", James growled, "it was supposed to be clear!"

There was a pause.

"Rrrggghhh", James growled, "fuck!"

"I don't suppose you have another plan?", I asked.

"No, the damn school was empty when I scouted it this afternoon. Lot can change in five hours I guess", James said, "come back to the tower, we need a new plan."

"Okay let's get outta here", I said, "you go I'll give cover."

Benjamin slunk away from the door, starting back for the tower and I followed him, keeping my M4 pointed at the door until I was well clear of the school. I ducked under the fence, and then I heard the first scream. It was probably the most terrifying thing I'd ever heard in my life and lasted only a second before a thunderous crack split the sky in half. The bullet flew past my ear and missed my head by I would say less than an inch and blasted the Scourged behind me into paste. Benjamin and I both took off running as I heard Zack start the Ford.

"Were compromised!", James shouted over the radio, "looks like we'll have to do this the old fashioned way."

Zack pulled the Ford around to the front of the water tower and slid out of the driver's seat, side strafing to the rear driver side door, firing his AK with three round bursts while James had his Bipod set up on the hood and was firing his .50 on full auto, truly a show worthy of admission. I could hear the bodies dropping like flies behind us, but I didn't dare turn around to see what was going on, thinking I'd either get eaten or die in Zack and Jame's shower of bullets. As Ben and I closed the distance to the idling Ford, Zack popped back into his seat and James entered the passenger's seat. I let my M4 fall to my stomach and jumped into the driver's seat, grabbing the door and pulling it closed with my tail as I righted myself in the seat. I snapped up the harness in record time and with a press of the clutch, the mighty Excursion was spinning tires in the sand as I whipped it around and pointed the nose around towards the road, intending on going straight back to Jame's house, but instead, I got a new suggestion.

"No go left! Go left!", James said, "we can still get the trailer, I got an idea!"

"Okay I'm trusting you!", I acknowledged. I pressed the clutch with my left foot, hit the brake with my right and pulled the parking with my right paw, whipping the Ford a full 180 off the sand onto the pavement, putting it back in first gear and matting it. At 5200 RPM, we hit the redline and a set of stupidly bright running lights came on automatically, bathing the bleached and scarred road in a white light harsher than what even the sun could drench it in. The clutch travel was smooth and the Ford belched a cloud of dark black smoke as I made the transition into second gear. James fumbled around trying to reach the radio on the back of his vest as the Fords 800 horses of V8 fury awoke every single Scourged in the town and let them know that dinner was served.

"Damnit I can't reach my radio!", James said, "Zack! Set my channel to 7! I gotta make a call!"

Zack punched in a bunch of buttons on Jame's radio as we approached a three way intersection.

"Which way James!?", I asked.

"Left!", James said.

I nodded, punching the clutch for the downshift, slamming the brakes down as far as they would go. The Ford literally ripped up the old pavement as it slowed down just enough for me to yank it through the very edges of the corner, hitting two Scourged which splattered on the deer guard from the force of the impact. This road let out in front of a high school, which was also home to a parking lot filled with about a hundred or more Scourged that wasted no time in howling satanic shrieks and making a beeline to the Ford.

"You said these fuckers were slow!", Benjamin said, "Firing M203!"

"No save that shot!", I said, "You might damage the truck and if we lose her here we die! Three way up here! James! Which way?"

"Left!", James said.

I turned the Ford through the corner, nailing three more Scourged who tried to jump out on us, the deer guard tearing their boiled and eviscerated bodies to shreds when the grating made contact with their flesh. With the road opened up, I shifted my left foot off the clutch and my right towards the accelerator. At that moment, I realized that there was a small green leaf underneath the Tachometer that read "Eco" and with it there was a switch by the door that said "Eco Mode Off/On. And so with one of my brighter ideas, I reached down and turned it off. The green leaf under the Tach vanished and in it's place there was a red gear with "Race" underneath it. With that flick of a switch, I woke a monster that was quick to let me know it wasn't happy. It clicked in my head that the Ford must have been equipped with emissions cheating software disguised as Eco Mode, with Eco off, all of the restrictions on fuel and air flow as well as artificial Rev Limiters, were removed. I don't even know how to describe my feelings at that time, there was the fear of being eaten by the Scourged, and then a new fear, the fear of losing control of the Ford and ending up in a ditch. Within seconds of turning Eco Mode off, the truck sat down by three inches and screamed across the powerband to a stroke inducing 11 thousand RPM. From an engineering perspective, nearing 10,000 RPM is normally reserved for the best racing engines, some F1 cars could make it to 13, but not usually past that and they did they were usually small displacement V12s, not 7.9 liter, all mechanically controlled V8's with two turbochargers strapped onto them.

Despite the burst of power making the Ford far faster than any of the Scourged, I learned very quickly that the steering column loaded up at those crazy RPM's, making it near impossible for me to steer at speed, which given the situation wasn't that great.

"Work with me here!", I growled to myself as I tried to reign the Ford back in, but not having much luck, "Hey remind me never to turn off Eco Mode again!"

"I will if we live", Zack said.

"Cut it out we'll make it!", James said peering out the window, "Arien, you should be able to see the trailer any second."

I caught sight of the trailer quite quickly, about 200 yards up the road from where we were at. Between here and there? Probably about a hundred of these Scourged fuckers, with more of them closing in from every direction. Holy hell, had we stepped in it this time. Under covering fire from Ben, Zack and James, I pulled the Ford up to the house, quickly slowed to a stop and backed the tow hitch right up to the trailer. I put it in park and grabbed My W1200. My objectives went unspoken to my friends as we spilled out of the Ford, Ben and Zack on either side of me and James had transitioned to some sort of suppressed, AK Family bullpup. I threw the 1200 over my back and started hooking the trailer up to the Ford, latching and chaining everything down and getting the wires all hooked up. I gave everything one last look over and was already to give the go ahead, when, even in the chaos, I came to the stark realization that the wheels of the trailer were all hooked together with a Crossbar. Designed in late 2010 by Frieghtliner to prevent Semi trailer wheel theft, Crossbars were hardened stainless steel tubes filled with carbon fiber and rebar reinforced concrete, almost impossible to cut through even with the most powerful saws. Short of an acetylene torch or plasma cutter, or just dragging it, that trailer was going no where.

"Oh my fucking god!", I panicked over the gun fire.

"What could possibly be that bad!?", Zack asked turning back.

"The trailer's got a Crossbar through the wheels!"

Zack's face blanched white as he turned back to face the ever growing scourged Horde, "dear God, I'm sorry for having offended thee!"

I looked at the Crossbar and gritted my teeth, throwing up the white flag, I started to unhook the Ford from the trailer, then a thought popped into my head. I sprung through the gap between the Ford and the trailer, joining Zack and Ben.

"BEN!", I shouted, putting my paw on his shoulder to get his attention, he slightly lowered his SOPMOD and looked at me, "DO YOU THINK YOUR CORIUM CAN MELT THROUGH THE CROSSBAR!!?"

Ben thought for a moment, and winced, "I can try!"

Ben slung his M4 over his back and went between the Ford and the trailer, I followed him getting Jame's attention.

"I'll take this AO!", I said, "use the Ford for cover against Ben's radiation and change places with Zack, I'll support the both of you from the roof of the trailer!"

"Rodger!", James said ducking behind the truck to get to Zack, "trade me!"

"Got ya!", Zack said as they switched places. Benjamin helped me up to the roof of the trailer, where I had a look at just how bad the situation was. Can you say Zombie horde? My heart sank into my boot, as much from pure fear as it was wishing I had my M4 and the Sig, instead of my W1200 and REX. I couldn't give you an exact number of the amount of scourged, there were far too many for that, and the Ford just idling was making a lot of noise, but shutting it off was suicide. I drew between covering Zack and covering James. All of us working multiple angles and lines of fire to keep from getting overrun. Birdshot was probably the worst thing in the world to deal with a horde of scourged with, simply because it popped 'em like grapes and sent the diseased liquid in their blisters everywhere. I fell into old muscle memory with the 1200 in a way that I couldn't with the M4. There were few animals out there that could train you to be effective with a shotgun, since they hadn't been used in combat since WW2 and were only back in combat service for five months before the bombs fell and because of that, all of my shotgun tactics were based around Post-War combat, primarily with fast moving, aggressive Rabids, quite hard to hit with a Pump-Gun, but devastating when a full shell made contact. So, with targets just as weak, but a third as fast, as far as rounds on bodies, it was a target shoot, but the fear was real, more than with Rabids.

"Guys we are so out numbered", I said into the radio as I ejected the final shell from my shotgun and grabbed more from my vest.

"Tell me something I don't know!", James said dropping the magazine from his bull pup and reaching into his vest for another, only to realize, he had none, "Zack! Got some 5.45?"

"Comin' over the Ford!", Zack shouted tossing James a magazine over the truck. James caught it with no trouble and rocked it into battery, quickly re reacquiring his targets. Since he appeared to have things under control again, I slid down the trailer to ground level to see how Benjamin was faring, and the answer to that was...not well. One of the Crossbars was melted clean through, little more than slag. The second was glowing white, near melted, but Benjamin's wrists and hands were bleeding profusely. It didn't take me long to realize what he'd done amounted to suicide as he'd slit his wrists long ways and cut his hands to pieces.

"BEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?", I yelped.

"Helping", he said weakly.

"No your not!", I shouted, "FRIENDLY DOWN! FREINDLY DOWN!"

Zack turned back and looked at me, then back at approaching scourged, grimacing, he quickly fired off seven rounds and came to help me with Benjamin.

"I can get it", He said weakly, "don't pull me off yet."

"Ben it's not worth your death!", Zack said as he dug out his first aid kit.

"Just a little more", he said tugging on it, "if you wanna help pull too!"

Zack started to pull and hammer on the remaining Crossbar as I took up my shotgun and began working multiple firelines to support James, whose weapon had fallen silent again.

"Arien!", James said, "Tell Zack I need...no fuck this! I'm a DEMON!"

All I heard as I climbed back atop the trailer was Jame's vest and gun hit the ground. When I had eyes on again. I saw James throw aside his shirt and boots, all he did then was scream. It was the single most terrifying sound I'd heard in my life. The only way I know how to describe it is to tell you that my blood literally ran cold. His scream echoed through the night in an unnatural way and he started tearing his way through the horde of Scourged with just his claws and teeth. The Scourged fought back as James tore limbs from sockets and wrenched heads from necks, landing stab woulds inches across with broken exposed bones that punched through James' scaleless skin with zero issue. James noticed his injuries and they served only to anger him more, slashing violently with all five claws against stomachs and backs, sometimes killing as many of six of them in as little as a single slashing attack. He bit pieces off animal's heads, arms and torsos, slurping up intestines like bloody spaghetti as he butchered his way through our opponents, using bones he tore off his victims as single use weapons he left embedded in skulls. He was splattered with all manger of those foul smelling fluids and congealed blood as the Scourged swarmed him, stabbing and slashing back, returning the favor of being ripped apart in full. Whereas the Scourged were dropping like flies, every new wound on James' dead looking body served only to increase his level of aggression to the point where the last Scourged only dropped when James literally ate the animal's heart right out of his chest and used a bone as a handle to snap his neck. He kicked the lifeless body over, as if he were dissatisfied. For a moment, he just stood there, glancing around at his surroundings, appearing impatient to find the next Scourged to kill. After a few minutes, seven to be exact, he seemed to mellow out, and crawling through the pile of gore on all four's he returned to the Ford, meeting my gaze with the same eyes he'd had when we met him.

"So that's how it goes", James said reaching into his vest, producing a towel, "a live demonstration."

"That was one hell of a display", I said setting my shotgun aside and taking a breather, "just glad your on our side."

"Feeling's mutual Arien", James said quietly.

I looked back down, Benjamin's wrists and hands were now bandaged, his strength appeared to be coming back.

"That was a really stupid thing you did there brother", I said, "long ways is when you want suicide with results."

"Who cares?", Ben said, "I'm alive, and it worked."

"And Nat is gonna be extra rough when she finds out what's going on", I said sliding off the top of the trailer. I set the 1200 down against the trailer and pulled the Crossbar out, turning to toss it aside, when I came face to face with a Southern American Scavenger Wasp. He wasn't a Scourged, but he was definitely sick with something. Be that as it may, he was already in mid air, with that combat knife of a stinger fully outstretched. It didn't take but a second to realize no matter what happened, I was getting stung, and get stung I did. He knocked me flat on my back and buried that thing as deep into my chest as he could. The depth was limited by my plate carrier and ammunition pouches, and I wasn't wearing a plate, so it didn't go in very far, but that didn't stop him from filling me full of the lethal nuerotoxin they were so well known for before Zack shot him dead. He fell over like a door nail and James pulled the body off me as I rolled over.

"Holy fuck that's real bad real quick!", I groaned the pain in my chest inducing near instant vomiting. My entire body went numb nearly instantly after that and I fell to my stomach, passing out.