He ran as fast as he could trying to keep up with the person in front of him, his equipment rattling as he ran. Sweat poured from under his helmet and streamed down his face and onto his neck soaking his shirt. He ran, his and the others' boots making a steady whump, whump sound their magazines chattering and clicking as they swung on their web gear. He was starting to fall behind the others but wasn't the last one yet. He pulled his rifle closer to his chest and ducked his head as he increased his speed slightly. He caught back up his breath coming in ragged gasps as his body armor and web gear constricted his chest.

"Let's go!" A sergeant shouted standing still as his troops ran past him. "Get to the fucking line! Let's go! Let's go!" He passes the sergeant close enough that he slapped him on the back. "Move! Move! Move!" He ran even faster his feet starting to hurt having slapped the pavement so hard for so long without a break. Soon he started up the metal stairs his boots making it ring out as he slowed to keep from bumping into the soldier in front of him as he climbed the stairs as well. The soldier behind him hadn't managed to slow in time and bumped into him causing him to almost drop his rifle. He would've fallen if his last step hadn't been on to the catwalk. He turned sharply to his right and followed the soldier in front of him. It was a short run and then the other soldier stopped turning to face the street resting his rifle on the catwalk's rail. He stopped as well turning to face the same direction and rested his rifle on the rail as well, getting shoulder to shoulder with the fellow soldier. The soldier that was behind him did the same resting his rifle on the rail and getting shoulder to shoulder with him. After a few more seconds the entire platoon was on the catwalk that had been built over the high fence that separated the quarantine zone from rest of the city and the world.

"Steady. Steady now," The sergeant said jogging up and down the catwalk behind his men. "They'll be coming soon. Don't fire till you're ordered to." The sergeant squeezed in-between him and the soldier next to him. "Remember get a good sight picture and to just squeeze the trigger. It'll be just like a day at the ranges, right son?" The sergeant asked him.

"Roger that sergeant," He said fighting to keep the waver out of his voice.

"Good," The sergeant said patting him on the back of the helmet causing it to slide forward partially obstructing his vision. The sergeant pulled himself away from the rail and went back to jogging behind his men. He used his thumb to push his helmet back up and he re-shouldered his rifle as he peered into the distance. The forward observers had radioed the advance of the hoard two minutes ago. It couldn't have been at a worse time the sun was already going down and now it was all put gone from the sky everything having a orange tint to it. The moisture from the morning rain had come back as a low creeping fog that hugged the street. Not only was it very creepy but it was hindrance as well. As the light reflected of the fog it turned orange as well making it seem like it was on fire. A screech was heard echoing through the air, followed by the chattering of equipment as the soldiers shifted their aim looking for targets.

"Steady. Steady boys," The sergeant said still jogging up and down the catwalk. "Wait for a good sight picture and for them to come into range." More screeches were heard echoing through the air but the ones doing the screaming still went unseen. He flip his rifle from safe to semi and pressed his eye closer to its rear sight. A moment later the first of the infected came into sight just like a child's nightmare, walking out of the fog. First hundreds then thousands, then tens of thousands came running out of the fog with more behind them still hidden by the eerie mist. A fresh sheen of sweat burst force onto his forehead as his hands began to shake. The mob sprinted towards the barrier and the soldiers on top of it howling madly. He held his fire as ordered as his front and rear sight started to waver as his hands shook more violently. He took a deep breath in and held it, like he used to do when he was at the range when his nerves would start to get the better of him. He exhaled slowly shortly afterwards his heart still thumped but his hands shook less and he was able to steady his rifle as the infected charged them.

"Fix bayonets!" The sergeant shouted. It was a strange order, an order that hadn't been issued in a long time. But they were soldiers and if nothing else could be said about basic training and the Army they were training and drilled to follow orders at the drop of a hat, no matter how strange them may seem. He hesitated only long enough to process the order and a second later he flipped his rifle back to safe and lowered it so the butt was on the catwalk the barrel pointing straight up. He pulled his bayonet for its sheath on the belt of his web gear, and locked it into place under his rifle's barrel. It was a good thing he was infantry because they were the only ones that still got bayonets anymore. He re-shouldered his rifle being one of the last to do so just as the front of the hoard neared the first range maker. When they had built the barrier they had placed flags to let them know a target's range the max was at 300 meters. They were ordered to not engage targets more than 300 meters out to ensure they remained accurate. He didn't think it really matter at this point since there was so many and even the sergeant thought so since he had them fix bayonets meaning he thought they would be fighting them close.

"Open fire!" The sergeant shouted just as the first infected reached the 300 meter flag. The line of soldiers opened up the infected acted as if they had run into a wall stopping dead in their tracks and then pitching forward. The first of the infected were shredded as rounds torn into them but more, right behind them, were willing to throw themselves at the soldiers and take their place. He didn't really notice all he could think about was aim and fire, aim and fire, aim and fire as fast as he could pull the trigger. They were so tightly packed on that catwalk that he could feel the spent rounds ejecting from the soldier on his left rifle hitting the side of his helmet and shoulder. He knew his was doing the same to the soldier on his right as well. As if to emphasize that a shell from the soldier on the left flew pass his face just missing the tip of his noise, he still felt the heat from it and the smell of gun powder was overwhelming. His bolt locked back on an empty magazine he reacted quickly pushing the magazine release and tilting the rifle back slightly letting the magazine fall to the catwalk. His left hand reached into a pouch on his web gear and pulled a full one out, he shoved it home and slapped the bolt release with practiced ease.

He resumed firing the soldiers had killed hundreds but thousands took their place. Soon he had emptied three more magazines and thousands of infected had been killed but still more just charged over their dead brethren. The first of the infected slammed into the fence and started to climb it after he had emptied two more of his magazines. He like the others shifted his aim pointing his rifle straight down, slightly leaning over the railing to fire on the infected that climbed the fence. As the fire shifted downwards it let the other infected surge forward and soon they were at the bottom of the fence climbing on it and each other trying to reach the soldiers. Despite the danger the infected present this was actually better for them as the infected were easier to hit and the easiest thing to hit as they climbed was their head. When an infected got too close to the catwalk a soldier would slash or stab them with their bayonet. The sergeant had made the right call having them fix bayonets he thought as he drove the tip of his through the skull of an infected as it tried to grab his ankles. He pulled his rifle back the bayonet popped out of its head with a sucking sound. It fell from the fence as the life left it, when it did it hit others as they tried to climb and knocked them to the ground again. He fired point blank into more infected as they tried to reach the catwalk.

"That's right keep 'em back boys!" The sergeant shouted over the gunfire and screams of the infected. "Runners! I need runners! Grab empty mags from the line and get full ones from the ammo point! Double time! Move! Move! Move!" A few solders pulled themselves from the rail, safetied their rifles and ran along the catwalk collecting empty magazines. One of them slapped him on the shoulder and he handed him his empties. Another runner seconds behind the first handed him a bandolier with six full magazines and he looped the strap around his right shoulder. He didn't have the time to place them into his web gear's pouches and just pulled the magazines from the bandolier hanging from his arm. The dead infected had started to pile up at the foot of the fence creating a staircase out of bodies that only aided the infected. The soldiers were in a frenzy and didn't notice as all they did was shoot, stab, and slash at the infected trying to keeping them back and off the fence. He sliced his rifle in a short arch the bayonet slicing open an infected's neck. It still wasn't dead as it fell a short distance before it latched back onto the fence and started to climb back up until he put a round through its head. He felt something wet and slimy hit him in the face and he looked over just in time to see the soldier on his left be pulled from the catwalk and into the hoard of infected below. He watched in horror as another soldier was entangled by the long slimly tongue of a mutated infected. A second later he too was pulled from the catwalk and fell into the mob of infected below where he was literally ripped to pieces.

"Gene!" He shouted. "10 o'clock high on the roof of the red brick building!" He switched his aim seeing the two tall and lengthy infected that had abnormally long tongues. He switched to burst and fired once all three rounds hitting one square in the chest, it stumbled back but remained alive and on its feet. He fired again the next three rounds taking it higher, as he let the rifle's recoil walk the barrel up, hitting the chest and one passing through its shoulder but still it remained alive. His third shot, which was actually three, took it even higher hitting its neck, face and forehead. That finally knocked it on its ass a large cloud of smoke emerged from its body covering the other one in a smoke screen. He shifted his aim emptying his magazine into the smoke screen where the other one had been, but when the smoke cleared the other one had disappeared. "We have a Gene on the loose!" He shouted as he reloaded before firing into the hoard of infected as the pile at the foot of the fence grew.

The military had given code names to the infected including the mutations, since they have to give code names to everything. The common infected were called Zulus since the enlisted called them zombies but command wouldn't allow them to, saying it would cause panic amongst the civilians. So the enlisted started calling them Zulu which was the phonetic alphabet word for Z which itself stood for zombie. Not the most imaginative name but they thought they were clever beating their superiors. The ones with the long tongues were given the name Gene and it didn't take a genius to figure out why command had decided to name them that if one remember their rock history. The other mutation, the only other one that was known to the military, was the one that could leap great distances and climb on objects while moving at great speed, they were called Jack. There were debates amongst the enlisted half saying their name was sort for Jack in the box because they jumped out and pounce on their target. The other half said that was stupid and it was short for Jack the ripper since it had sharp claws which it used to rip its target apart and favored hooded sweat shirts. It didn't really matter to him he thought they were all stupid names and wondered why they had to have code names to begin with. He didn't care as he pulled the last magazine from his bandolier and shoved it into his rifle's lower receiver. He felt someone slap him on the shoulder again, the runner making a second round. He happily gave up his empty bandolier in exchange for a full one. He stopped firing to shove the magazines into the pouches on his web gear, not really sure why, he just knew he felt like he should that time. He had just finished, re-shouldered his rifle, and pressed his eye back up to its sight when a roar rumbled through the dusk air.

Out of the fog came something that none of them had ever seen before, and it was massive. As it lumbered towards them it started to gain speed. Its upper body was huge rippling with muscles but it's lower body was still that of a normal human. It let out a roar as it used one of its massive arms to shove infected out of the way that ran around it. There is no way that thing was ever human, he thought as he kicked an infected's head as it grabbed the lower rail of the catwalk, knocking it back to the ground. His rifle was still on burst and he fired an entire magazine at it even though it was outside of the 300 meter range. It didn't matter the thing was huge and he hit it with every shot. It didn't even slow in fact it only seemed to piss it off more. The sergeant saw the behemoth as it charged them, they all did.

"Shift fire! Shift fire!" The sergeant shouted. "First and second squads keep the fuckers off the fence! The rest take that big motherfucker out!" They reacted quickly half firing on the infected that climbed the fence adding to the pile at the bottom the highest point now reaching the middle of the fence. The rest fired on the charging monster most of their rounds hitting it but a few stray rounds drilling infected that ran around it as they also charged the fence. The rounds had little effect on it as it neared the 300 meter mark, the sergeant saw this. He had just reloaded and was about to empty a second magazine into the thing when the sergeant slapped him on the shoulder. "Get an AT4 and blow that bastard straight to hell!" The sergeant ordered.

"Yes sergeant!" He shouted. "Moving sergeant!" He placed his rifle on safe and pulled himself away from the railing and ran towards the stairs. His feet hit pavement a second later and he was running again but this time in the opposite direction. He passed the runners as they carried more full bandoliers to the line. He ran past them and he reached the ammo point that was surrounded by loops of razor wire. He ran into the gap and started rummaging around the boxes of ammo looking for the AT4s. He found the large flat box underneath several other boxes and quickly shoved them off as he knelt to open the wood box. He tired to open the box but it was nailed shut, and he reacted quickly by using the bayonet that was still attached to his rifle and shoved it in-between the lid and the box. He pushed down on the stock and the lid lifted up pulling the nails with it. He used his fingers to left the lid completely off the box and looked behind him, back towards the catwalk and fence. The soldiers still were hamming the infected, thousands more had been killed by their hand but still more ran out of the fog, it seemed the whole city was after them. The pile had gotten taller and wider as well spilling back into the street more. Then the roar of the monster echoed through the air again snapping him out of it and he turned back towards the box of AT4s.

He pulled one of the tubes out of the box and cradled it in his arms. He pulled the safety pin, flipped down the shoulder rest, flipped up the sights and moved the charging leveler to the firing position. With the rocket launcher mostly armed he throw his rifle's sling over his shoulder and snatched up the AT4 and started running back towards the line. He was only half way there when there was a horrible screech of metal twisting and breaking as the monster crashed through the fence. When it did not only did it bust a hole in the fence but it destroyed the section of catwalk directly above it. The soldiers on that section were scattered as they were thrown into the air most landing in the hoard of infected one unlucky bastard landed in front of the monster as it still charged forward. The beast didn't stop as it crushed him with its massive size as it continued forward. Following right behind it was the rest of the hoard flowing in like water through a busted dam. He saw the beast coming right at him, he jumped to the side landing hard on his stomach the massive thing just missing him. It only stopped once it plowed into the tent he had been calling home for the past few days. As it crashed into it, the canvas knocked loose of its supports fell around and onto it entangling it. It thrashed around angrily trying to free itself but it only wrapped the canvas around itself even tighter. He scrambled to a kneeling position and shouldered the launcher taking aim at the thing that was trapped in the tent. He jammed his thumb down on the firing button the tube slammed back against his shoulder as the rocket left the tube. It hit the creature square in the back but it didn't explode, the range was too short and the rocket didn't arm itself in time. It was still a rocket however and it punched right through it leaving a large hole when it entered and a massive one as it exited the beast's inside exploding out behind the rocket. It slumped to the ground the section of tent that it was holding up gently fell around it.

He let the smoking launcher slip from his shoulder and fall to the ground. He took his rifle off his shoulder and started running back to the line. More infected were pouring through the hole in the fence. The soldiers that remained on the catwalk fired at odd angles into the ones that ran through the gap starting a new pile. Still more had made it through the fire and were charging the stairs as some soldiers tried to stop them. The narrow stairs was the perfect fatal funnel as their rounds cut through multiple infected at once their bodies creating a natural barrier they had to climb over. The infected were relentless in their charge however as one of them jumped the pile and skewered itself on the end of a soldier's bayonet. The infected didn't seem to care as it still reached for the soldier pushing the bayonet deeper into its torso. An infected right behind it slammed into its back pushing it further onto the bayonet and rifle barrel, the end of the barrel actually sticking out of the infected's back. More infected slammed into the soldier as he started to lose his balance and fell backwards the pile of infected landing on top of him and started ripping him apart. As the infected started to storm the catwalk the other soldiers started to jump from the catwalk and run towards him. One was in an all out sprint and passed him heading away from the line.

"Run for it!" He screamed panic in his voice as he ran by him. "The line can't hold!" He watched him run for his life thinking less of him but not very much for the situation did seem hopeless. More soldiers started to run from the line as the infected swarmed around them pouring in through the gap as others climbed the fence spilling onto the catwalk.

"Form a new line!" The sergeant was shouting trying to rally his troops. "Form a new line here!" He shouted making a stand a good distance from the fence and the massive gap the infected were pouring through. He took aim with his pistol and fired into the charging hoard adding to the pile of bodies. A few soldiers continued to run passing the sergeant a feral look in their eyes as they ran for their lives. The remaining ones stopped and turned forming a horseshoe facing the gap and fired into the hoard. The infected were ripped apart as they tried to pass through the gap, acting as a funnel which was working better then the catwalk and fence. He saw this and ran towards them wanting to do his part. He was almost there when he heard the screech of Jack as several of them leapt over the fence landing on the sergeant and other soldiers and started ripping them apart their body armor only giving them an extra second of meaningless life. Losing their leader and half their remaining number in seconds was the last straw. The remaining soldiers panicked, broke ranks and ran away from the line as the infected surged through unchallenged now. Most catching up to the soldiers that were the furthest behind unable to outrun them in full gear. A fleeing soldier bumped into his shoulder and it snapped him out of it. He turned and ran as well seeing no point staying and fighting.

He clutched his rifle close to his chest as he ran hearing the infected closing the gap. He heard the screech of Jack as one leapt past him landing on and pining the soldier that had bumped him. Jack started ripping in to his torso, blood spraying around him in wide arches. He changed directions heading right for the helpless comrade, lowing his rifle's barrel the bayonet was still attached to. He jammed the blade into Jack's back as he lunged forward actually lifted the infected off of the soldier with the blade. As he lifted the mutation into the air he fired point blank into its back the rounds tearing him apart as it screeched in pain. He flung his rifle to the side the dead infected falling off the end of his rifle. He stopped and looked at Jack's victim, he lay unmoving on the ground, his chest and gut shredded blood beginning to pool under and around him. He was about to start running again when the bleeding soldier spoke.

"Mason," He croaked blood bubbling from his mouth. "Don't leave me. Don't leave me man." Mason looked at the bleeding man and knew he wasn't going to make it, he then looked back at the infected hoard as it neared them. "Please man you can't leave me." The dying soldier pleaded weakly raising a hand for Mason to grab. Mason shouldered his rifle and fired a round through the dying soldier's head just before he started to run again. He looked behind him to see the infected that would have been after him stop and start to rip into the soldier he just killed, finish off he remained himself. He reached the ammo point and grabbed as many magazine as his pouches could hold and filled them. He then grabbed several full bandoliers and looped them over his shoulders and arms. He checked on the hoard behind him and saw the more were stopping to eat the soldier but even more were running past him and he didn't have much time. He rushed into the collapsed tent and grabbed his packed rucksack, threw it over one shoulder and started to run again. He ducked into an alley and around a corner as the hoard chased after the other fleeing soldiers only have them in sight. He stood there, back pressed against the wall, breathing heavily, rifle held to his chest, listening for the infected. He could hear them running, the crack of rifle shots, and the scream of dying comrades but none turned down his alley. Mason stuffed the extra magazines into the rucksack before he pulled it onto both his shoulder wearing it right. He started to walk down the alleyway only one word echoing around in his head: Deserter but at least he was still alive.