“I’m sorry Sam.”
Never in a thousand years would I have imagined killing my own best friend. Hell, if it weren’t for this guy I wouldn’t even be alive right now. “The least I can do is escape from here for you.”
I noticed a battered American flag covered in blood hanging from the flagpole in front of me. Sam was a real American hero. He’s the one that helped design the teleportation systems used in our defense bases throughout the world. Now those systems would be the only thing keeping me from being exposed to the same poison that turned him into a zombie. Sigh. “I can’t even look at your face without tears running down my cheeks. I know this flag meant a lot to you. Goodbye, Sam.”With that final farewell, I laid the flag across his chest and continued down the hall to the emergency elevator leading to the war room.
“Looks like you’re all I have left, Mustang and Sally. You’ll have some fun once we make it downstairs.” These M1911 pistols have killed many men. As long as I point in the right direction, they do a pretty good job of finding a target.
The elevator doors opened. Gosh. I can smell the stench of death all over these walls. There are blood stains, broken glass, and the bodies of agents that made a last stand. “The Pentagon has been compromised…” As soon as I stepped out of the elevator a zombie lunged for me. I instinctively grabbed my pistols and let off a few rounds into its skull, just like I learned years ago in basic training. The sound of the guns alerted the other zombies. I dashed straight for the teleporter switches and fought through waves of the undead. “My magazine’s almost gone!” After I pushed the button for the teleporter, the system directed me towards the presidential room. When I started running towards the room, a group of zombies rushed me from behind. I threw a few grenades in their direction and shot into the crowd. “Die!” There were a few feet separating me from the teleporter. I continued to hold off the zombies and move into the room until…
“Agh!” One of the zombies I hit with the grenade must’ve crawled towards me while I was shooting at the group. It wrapped around my left leg and bit me until I bled. I shot at it until it ceased to be a threat. My leg was hurt pretty badly. By now, the zombies were closing the distance between us as I limped towards the teleporter. “Almost, there…” I fell into the teleporter as zombies converged on my location. When I looked at the zombie that bit my leg, I saw a rusted dog tag dangling from its hands with the name “Sam Stevenson” written across it.
Everything turned black. I heard a voice calling my name. It was Sam’s voice debriefing me about his recent teleporter success: four years earlier.