\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2214719-A-Familys-Last-Stand
Item Icon
by Dergon Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · War · #2214719
When friends and family band together, not even the apocalypse can stop them.
Chapter 1

THE END


Look I get it, 'What do you mean the end? The book just started.' Yeah well the end is where it all began. Everything was going just fine untill some assholes with too much money and not enough sense came along and dry-fucked the whole world.

Nanotechnology had made major improvements it the recent years. We could fight infections and viruses in minutes with med-bugs and amputees could have a better life with Neuro-nanomites. All this was going fine untill and group of brilliant scientists tried to create a nano-bug that could replace our immune system and stop all illnesses. Well that meant that it had to have AI to perform optimally. As you might have guessed, that's where they screwed up. The nano-bugs made a healthy man into a raving lunatic that was nearly impossible to kill.

This company tried to stop the growth of the nano-bug but shot themselves in the foot with the self-replicating function. Now we have a bug that can heal it's host, control it's host, infect others with any contact and was almost completely impossible to kill. We managed, in our infinite wisdom, to create a robot zombie virus. The only thing that made us giggle at the end of the world was the organization's name. The Syndicate Housing Advanced Technologies Incorporation. The world as we knew it was ending because S.H.A.T. inc. wanted to better humanity. Yup.

As for how I got draged in and am writing this, well I'm a nobody from nowhere and am nothing special. My name is Marcus James Conner. I was born in a middle class family from Mississippi. I live with my parents, sister, and 2 dogs. My dad was a welder before an accident put him in a wheelchair. Mom is a store manager at the local supermarket. Sis is still in school and is, again, nothing special. I am 17 and was attending a trade school when the world went sideways.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Nicely done Marcus, another month and you will be going home will all your welding certificates." said Mr. Collins, the welding instructor. I had just finished welding the frame to my custom Ford F-350. As the highest ranked student in class, I was well on my way to a successful lifestyle and well paying career in welding. All that i had left to do was build something that would represent my skills and knowledge. My time at this campus was not just fun and games. I had to work constantly to achieve my goal of building my own business.

"And by the way, what are you doing to this again?" he asked pointing at the truck.

"I plan to turn it into a party barge. I want to reinforce the frame, attach a 5th wheel plate, and custom build a trailer to take to Mardi Gras."

That was the plan. I had all the parts but needed to put them together. As for the trailer, all it needed was a paint job and it too was done. All in all i had it going on.

As i lowered the body back onto the frame I noticed my phone and everyone else's phones going off. Put off by the timing, I grab my phone and check the alert. 'To all American Citizens, this is an emergency alert. This is not a drill. An outbreak of T-309-A2 nano virus is spreading across the U.S. Lock all doors and do not leave shelter for any reason. I repeat THIS IS NOT A DRILL.'

What. The. Fuuuuuck. The miracle bug that was supposed to save millions is now a virus that has sent the U.S. off the deep end. Mr. Collins immediately shut all the doors and locked us in.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

2 Months Later

Now that we have backstory, we just need a hero. Well if you hadn't figured it out, we weren't going to get one. Not only are we kids with no combat experience, we had way out of our situation. We were trapped. in just a few hours the virus had spread to over 45% of the U.S. we will S.O.L'ed with no contact with the world. The first things is to go out were the power and the communications. After 2 weeks a band of idiots left and came back infected with friends. We got through by the skin of out teeth, but that's not important. The big problem was getting out. After 2 months of shitty rations and bad company, I was ready to move.

"Hey Marcus, what are you doing? We are not supposed to be hear." That is José. He is my right hand man. Whenever I had a problem, he had a problem. If I was fighting then so was he. He was the older brother I needed. So when I snuck out one night to start my plan, he was right behind me.

"I'm getting stuff ready."

"What stuff? And ready for what?"

"I'm getting out and going home. No I'm not stupid and no I'm not going to stop. Go back to the dorms if that is what you want. You will not stop me."

"Dude slow down. I'm not stopping you and I'm not going back. I want out and you are my best option. When it comes to logistics and battle plans, you are the only one here that can help. So in light of my infinite wisdom, I'm gunna help you."

"Ok, fine. I'm going to prepare my truck and trailer and bulldoze my way out. If you want to help, I need someone to help me load my gear and food."

"Ok but one thing. If you leave alone you'll die. So how's this. I'm gonna round up our group and send them this way. We all know that if we want to leave, we're gunna need some luck. How many can you take in your rig?"

"At most 20, but the problem is we-"

"What the hell are you two doing out here?" Mr. Collins was standing in the path with a foul look.

"See we needed to breathe-"

"Don't play that with me. I know you plan on leaving and it's not happening." Well shit. All my work is for nought.

"Look I'm just telling you that without some major skill and heavy dose of luck, you aren't getting out of this town. So in light of my past, and my connections, I think you too are going to need some help."

"What! You're saying that you want to help us get out?"

"Yes and not just me." Well my day just got brighter. I now have a loyal group of friends and an ex-military powerhouse on my side. My high may never come down.

"Who else is in?"

"All the staff and 90% of the kids are going insane trying to get out. If you have a plan, let's hear it."

And that started a shit-storm of preparation for the escape. We had people building crude weapons and outfitting trailers to hold everyone. We got 3 more big-rigs from the nearby warehouse and started putting plows and other Mad Max style defenses on them. We had 2 of the trailers hauling people, 1 hauling fuel (lucky find there) and the last one was full of food, weapons, camping gear, water, tool, etc. After a week of tense working and bickering, we were ready.


Chapter 2

ESCAPE

"Alright, let's move it folks. We need to go." said Mr. Collins. As the one person who everyone respects, he took charge quickly. Everyone who wanted out was working around the clock to get the convoy ready to roll. As the man who started this mess, I had the pleasure of making the necessary mods to the trucks to get them out and on the road. This was mostly make plows and shielding for the rigs.

"Marcus! Come on the final meeting is starting and we all need to be there, especially you mister 'Man with a Plan'." José said with a grin. Over the last week, I had done more work to my truck and trailer than I had initially planed. after some small tug tests I found out that my truck was fast but not fast off the line. So I needed to change my plan for leading the charge.

"José, pass me the 3/8 socket and the plyers please."

"Dude, we have 4 hours untill the convoy is supposed to leave and you are fitting a gun rack on your truck. We don't have GUNS. We have bats and bricks and pointy sticks. WTF."

"Okay fine I'm coming." I sigh as we make our way to the gym. As soon as we get inside the meeting starts.

"Alright, settle down. You know why we're here. All our work is about to be put to the test. We have worked hard this last week and I thank you for it. At dawn we load up and roll out, and we are not stopping until Jackson. If you want to stay there then be my guest, but that is not the end goal. We are headed to the coast and the guns. After that we're gunna build a safe-haven and hole up. If you need a place to go after you find your family, come find us. If you find someone who needs help, send them to us. If we can make it out of here, it will be the first step towards a less shitty tomorrow." At this everyone relaxed. "We have done all we can so let's get some sleep, cause tomorrow I plan to kick some ass and get the hell out of here."

We all make our way to the trucks, already loaded and looking good. Altogether, the 4 truck convoy was an interesting sight to behold, 3 semi-trucks and a heavily modified Ford F-350. The plan was simple, I was in the Peterbuilt up front, José is in my F-350 in second, and the two Freight-Liners in the back.

As the front door to this shindig, I was the most armored truck. Boasting a massive plow and plenty of spikes, anything I hit would be gone. Climbing into the seat I quickly started the rig, the roar quickly followed by 3 more as everyone strapped in and held on for dear life.

"Alright, this is it boys and girls, let blow this popsicle stand." I call over the radio as i pull off. We had one chance to go or we were as good as dead. My truck hit the gates doing 30, and boy was it FUN. The feeling of power was intoxicating as I grabbed gears and floored it out of town.

"The hell is going on? The whole town looks empty, and not a Bugger(infected) to be seen." As we hit the highway, we notice the lack of resistance or any signs of life. Mr. Collins was holding the back end of the line as we started on our long-haul. After a week of stress, boy was this easygoing. Remind me to stop smelling the roses, as karma was a bitch. Shit.

Chapter 3

CONTACT

"Uh guys? We have a problem," I call over the radio, "I'm getting some CB chatter and it ain't good news. Seems as if all the survivors are holed up in a warehouse near the city and are currently surrounded."

I had been sitting in my truck about a mile ahead of camp. We set down 2 miles north of Jackson in a forest. I was scouting the city from afar when my CB radio started to chatter. After listening for a moment, I got what info I needed and radioed in.

"Alright, come back and we will figure something out." Said Mr Collins. I fired up my truck and headed back. This day was only getting started.

As I rolled into camp, I look for the command truck, parking nearby. I climb in HQ and find Mr Collins, José and Tonya all looking mad and scared at the same time. Tonya was the head of the offensive team, but you'd never know. At 4'9 and 170lbs, she was tiny, but god forbid you try and mess with her or her posse. Even me, the 7ft and 240lbs of muscle that I am was scared. She was well trained and viscous in a fight. José was head of prep, food, and moral, and Mr Collins was in charge of defense and maintenance. All of us were put in charge by default and we ran the camp as best we could.

"Alright, spill. Where are the survivors and how do we help them?", asked Tonya as she laid out the map.

"They are in a military warehouse just east of Jackson, and they are not doing well. They have all the materials needed to improve our convoy but have no uninjured people besides the guards and there are only 10 left. If we can get a team of mechanics and soldiers in there, we can build a few rigs and truck them out. The problem is the Buggers surrounding the warehouse.", I say as I plot out the location and relay my info. "They don't have much ammo and guns left but if we take 1 truck through the crowds and get to the back door, we can get in. A max of 10 people can get in, so we need to setup a team and prep Big T.

---------

Within ten minutes we had 9 people packed like sardines in a rig. We had all the tools and weapons we would need for the extraction in the tool boxes (go figure) and all the people necessary for this plan to work. We got moving and within 15 minutes we were on final approach, hauling ass at 90 down the highway.

"You have one chance and it's not gunna be hard to fuck it up. God, this has to be one of those 200 IQ plans." ,I sigh as we take the last turn and barrel towards the gates, "Everybody HOLD ON!"

The crowd of Buggers was stand at the gate, trying to get in but failing miserably. As we approach' I hit the air horn and punch it. We plowed through them and the gate without stopping and slam on the brakes so as not to hit the building. The folks inside open the door and let us pull in.

"So you guys are the ones helping us out of hear?", said some official looking guy. By the way Mr. Collins straightened up, I'd guess that he was a higher ranking officer. "I'm Sergeant First Class James McAllister. I'm the highest ranked officer here and am currently in charge. Who are you?" Damn that explains Mr. Collins reaction.

"The name's Marcus Connor.", I say after an uncomfortably long silence.

"Sergeant Mathew Collins, sir. I am in charge of our group. We hope to help you and your people get out of here." He offered a handshake. SFG McAllister look taken aback for a second, then took his hand.

"Tonya Hemmer, head of offense in our camp"

"José Hernandez, advisor."

"Good to meet y'all, but let's quit beating around the bush and get you what you need to get us the fuck out of here." Marathon start-o. (Use a anime voice)
© Copyright 2020 Dergon (dragon121 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2214719-A-Familys-Last-Stand