Long Nights in Alaska

Somewhere outside Anchorage…

Smuggling soviet arms via Alaska was a huge pain in the butt, but Drake made the trip one last time for the sake of his Russian contacts. Certain developments had made the supply routes unnecessary, so Drake had brought extra parting favors and gifts for his “friends”. The deal was well and done under cover of night, and Drake swapped a container full of food, medicine, consumer goods and gold bars for a huge container full of soviet munitions, camouflaged with 10 feet of refrigerated seafood, leaving the rest of the container for guns and refrigeration.

The drive had been brutal on Drake, who had only so much tolerance for long drives, and was compelled to stop over in a small no name time some miles short of Anchorage, but if he had to endure another hour of mind-numbing driving, he’d likely jump out the window. His companion wasn’t up to the task of driving either. His relative, commonly called by folks as ‘Sage’, but to him she was Ayi Niao, or aunt Niao. The small Asian lady could’ve passed as his teenage niece or daughter, but she was an especially significant metahuman with a fantastical story. She was also a huge boomer, wanting nothing to do with modern technology.

She was also sleeping like a little baby, getting drool on her chin, wrapped up in thick children's winter clothes.

“…Ayi, we’re here. We’re gonna stop for the night.” Drake checked his watch and was aghast at the time. “Oh, heck no, it’s still afternoon. Crazy Alaskan long nights.”

Sage yawned, taking a moment to compose herself. “We are not home yet I see. ah, I have a headache…” she rubbed her head, feeling dizzy.

“Yeah, well, you’ve been sleeping the whole trip. That’s not good for you. I’ve been driving for hours and now, I want to sleep. I’ve already checked us in electronically to the motel. I’ll just grab some groceries and meet you there.”

Drake got out of the car to stretch, then followed the town’s main road to its only grocery store. He entered the rather nondescript place, there were only about five lanes and only one cashier on the job. A small handful of folks were grabbing groceries. Drake sighs and begins wandering the aisles for some basic necessities… like beer. He would not be prepared for the price of goods in Alaska, nor the coming shambling horde coming in from the Alaskan wilderness. (Arriving in about 4 posts I guess.)

= = = =

After speaking with the concierge, Sage managed to find their accomodations. This motel was just a converted large house, as they weren't expecting many guests out here in Alaska. She inspected their ground floor quarters, a most bare minimal accommodation of cream white walls and a carpeted floor. She puts her travel bag on the bed. She was not sleepy, considering she’d already had about 12 hours of it, and looked at herself in the mirror. Drake had bought her a pink winter coat, with a cutesy white feline character with a bow in her hair. This coat makes me look even younger and inconsequential, she thought.

She however, had a recurring headache since arriving in town, and could feel her mind suffering an attack. Something in the earth was tainted and she felt it. She attempts to manipulate the earth outside her window, only to scoop up a messy handful rather than the standard cubic feet that normally could. Something was out there in the wilderness, and she could feel the earth’s pain for it.

Out in the wilderness, amongst the trees and rocks and snow, a fog has fallen. Thicker than any sheet of snow and as silent as an assassin's dagger, the fog rolled over a pocket of the wilds and seemed to move steadily across the wilderness. Within the fog, a flickering orange light could be seen vaguely at its center and, if you looked close enough, perhaps even a face could be made out amongst the lights. Glowerdown had been patrolling this Alaskan town for the past day or so, weaving a cloak of fog to hide his presence. He had been hunting a certain criminal that had escaped the judgement of God and now sought to hide from him in the freezing north of Alaska. Worse still, he had fled into the woods, the cretin, aiming to hide amongst Nature's bounty until God turned his eye elsewhere.

"Thou art ensuring thine own damnation..." A raspy whisper echoed through the fog. "Three lives upon thine bloodied hands... The Lord's judgement shalt not be denied..."

The fog slowly circled the forest around the town, starting at the edges and moving deeper with each loop. The whisper of the creature within would not escape the confines of the fog, stopping dead where it would normally escape into open air. Instead, the whisper would rebound back inwards, as if a thousand voices beckoned for the man to give himself up.

"Take pity upon thine own soul, slayer-of-kin..." The Searchlight beckoned, his lantern creaking ominously with each step. "Thine children call to thee from beyond the grave... Inviting thee to a place besides... Dost thou deny them in death... what thou hast denied them in life...?"

As Searchlight wandered, the heavy breathing of a man, a human, touched the creature's ears, the quickened breathing of fear, of chill... and pain...? Searchlight tilted his head in thought as he pursued the sound. T'was not long this man had taken to the forest... It wasn't likely any local predators would dare to tread this close to civilization, either. The fear of man, after all, was instilled in the hearts of all beasts. A self-inflicted injury perhaps...?

Michael was reading over the cooking instructions for a box of premade chicken cordon bleu when his phone went off, a text message from Circuit.  

Sources confirm package has exchanged hands, should be arriving in your AO shortly.

A picture followed the text, showing a refrigerated truck, being loaded by large burly men with various unmarked crates, which Michael easily recognized as standard weapons and ammo crates.  

Michael let out a sigh, closing the chat. He had been here in this little no-name town for a solid week, waiting for this very text. He had been supplied a rather sweet Jeep Gladiator, tricked out with satellite GPS, fully armored, heated seating, remote start up, and a full Alaskan Police Department decal, complete with the Red and blues.  

The job was simple, he was posed here as an Alaskan Sherriff, waiting for the unmarked vehicle carrying a decent arsenal of weapons, which he would intercept in transit, apprehend the leader, and either apprehend, or eliminate, any others in the vehicle, and call in the retrieval team.  

If he had it his way, he would’ve packed the vehicle with explosives, with the weapons, and sent it to the moon. But Interpol wants those weapons secured, and won’t take no for an answer.  

After all, there is no profit for them if the guns are destroyed.  

He rolled his eyes at the thought, as he made his way to the liquor aisle, not wanting to think about the political B.S.

As he entered the aisle, his attention turned to a new person. It wasn’t uncommon to see new people walking around town each day. Though, in this town, with the weather, it was easy to keep track of the ins and outs of people, as there are often a handful of bodies that come in and go from town at any given time.

This guy, however, was different.  

Most of the time, the travelers coming through are just hunter, no real skill.  

This new guy, however, was far from a typical civilian.  

He screamed Army, specifically, Green Berets, from his posture, to his walk, and everything in between.  

While it wasn’t enough to say whether he was a smuggler, it put him on Michaels respected list.  

As he got closer to the Guinness, he noticed they were out of stock. “great, just my luck.”

SAGE

Sage felt the sickness in the earth affecting her. If she did not deal with it, she feared it might have lasting consequences. Sage leaves a detailed note on the dresser describing her symptoms and suspicions, direction she would take, and time she would come back.

She telekinetically summons her armored clothes and wear them under her winter coat. Then, she calls her sword to herself, and slings it over her back. In contrast to her taste in building, her sword was steel and utilitarian, unadorned. But it was the very finest of steel and heavy, suited for telekinetic control over mundane handling. It was without a guard, and once she had a chance to inspect it, she heads out to the wild, determined to get to the root of this problem.
Mere minutes pass into the woods, her observational skills and sharp seismic sense told her that there were no birds chirping nor were there any animals – not even insects – in the ground.

Sage presses on, eventually finding herself into a strange mist in the wild. Then she sees a strange light ahead. She calls out, changing her usual flat tone into one of a lost and confused youth.

“H-Hello? Is anyone out there?” she said, though she was an odd sight, a teenage looking sorceress with a sword in her back.

GROCERY
Drake definitely had the telltale habits and signs of a trained warrior. He had looked over the grocery’s entry and exit points, the cars parked just outside, and the people in. Alaska was one of the places where he felt he was of average build. Heck, he even saw a mountain of a man in jeans and flannel, his head towering over the grocery racks. “Beautiful beard win.” He muttered to himself. The rest were hunters, or blue collar folks, there were even a trio of young army guys in uniforms, privates by their single chevron, and given how clean and soft their faces were. “Greenies.” But, once he had taken a look at the prices on the shelves, his expression was that of a man who had been stabbed in the back. Everything was double digit US dollars. A young teenage girl, probably no older than Drake’s own brat back home, was stocking the shelves with more booze.

“Uhhh… hello… miss… Sally?” Drake saw a name tag. “Sally, why is everything here really… expensive?” Drake asked nicely, getting a warm response from the young lady.

“This is Alaska, mister. Everything has to be shipped or flown in. You must be from out of town.” She explained briefly, looking at Drake’s basket that had beans, spam, some Guinness.
“Uh yeah. Just passing through. You, ah… wouldn’t happen to have a veterans’ discount would ya?” He asked again.

“Oh. You served? Yeah, discount, definitely, I think so. Just bring your ID at the cashier.”

“Heh, Thanks.” Drake turned around and saw another dude, Michael, apparently a sherriff, walk into the liquor aisle. Drake could not deny a man his booze, oh no. “Ey, Broskie. You wanna split this 6-pack? Don’t think I’ve ever drank a 14 dollar can of beer before.” He said with than big lug grin of his. Drake was easygoing, friendly and charismatic… not someone you’d expect to carry the mantle of the second Death Blow.
The small town though, was not quiet forever. Outside, on the main road, a convoy of military vehicles were driving at full speed up the north road out of town.

“…Wonder what the commotion is about. Are the Russians crossing into Alaska?” Drake commented off-handedly, and made a rather inappropriate joke. Internally, he did not like it. Besides the very obvious fact he carried a truck full of contraband, those national guard units had infantry fighting vehicles and heavy armor with them. In addition, Drake managed to glimpse, very briefly, one guy in the truck was wearing NBD gear.
His suspicions were only tingled further when the three privates in uniform at the cashier all checked their phones at once. It was time to do their duty, and they weren't happy.

“Must be the military dig site up north.” The stocks girl said, not elaborating much further.

As Searchlight drew closer to his target, he could start to make out more... intricacies in his breathing. The sharp twinges of his voice with each breath, the whimpering and gasping like a wounded animal, the sharp scent of coppery blood touching his senses. It seemed as if something had gotten to this man before Searchlight himself. Possibly a predator he had stumbled into. Indeed, he could see the droplets of red staining the veil of snow by his feet, a splash of it followed by a liberal trail just ahead. Whatever had rent his skin from his bones was vicious, relentless even, if that much blood was spilt. Often times, animals will take a bite and retreat, enough to scare away potential hostiles with little danger to themselves! Predators especially, when faced with man.

...How odd.

T'was only a minute more before he finally found his target, propped up against a tree stump, his hand on his neck! He was dressed for the hostility of winter, padded substantially in several layers of winter-garb, but even so, something had torn RIGHT through it all on his left arm. Blood ebbed out from the torn flesh on the limb, rendering it useless, hanging purposely to the side! Even with his hand blocking it, Searchlight could see how deeply into his throat the wound had been gashed, tearing into the artery, given how lively his lifeblood gushed out. His flesh was pale and his eyes sunken, almost a green-ish complexion with the whites taking on a jaundiced yellow. Sick? Perhaps. Could have been a side-affect of blood-loss, though. What was TRULY interesting, though, was that even though Searchlight was standing BEFORE this man, flaming pumpkin-head and all, the man didn't seem fearful of HIM at all! No, he was looking past him... and all around! He was still afraid of his assailant!

"Y...You... We.... We have to get out of here..." The man wheezed, taking the initiative after a period of silence! "The..... the forest it.... Its changed..."

"Oh...? Dost thou thinkest it wise to waste thine final moments...?" Searchlight responded, slowly withdrawing his blade from his coat. "I believe it best thou makest thine peace with God... Fore thou shalt meet him readily."

"...N...no... You.... don't get it...." the man coughed, his hand falling away from his neck, revealing the wound! It... was a grisly sight, ripped up shoddily as if blunted teeth had sunken into him. "...The animals... and those... creatures... They've gone crazy... the deer..." He let out a wet, grisly hacking cough, blood and blackish phlegm spraying lightly from his lips.

"Deer, thou sayest...?" Searchlight muttered thoughtfully, raising his blade against his chest, its silver edge separating his pumpkin-head in half. "...Deer scarcely bite the hand of Man. Thine own lies are as hollow as thine repentance."

"Sh...shut up, you pumpkin-headed.... freak!" He shouted... or as much as one can with a hole in their neck. "...Shut up... and help... me... We need to.... We need to go...."

"In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit..." Searchlight chanted, leveling his blade at the chest of the man as he bowed his head. "I beg of thee, forgive the soul of thine child who hast strayed from thine eternal covenant..."

"Wh...What are you... doing...." The man gasped, staring at the point of the blade!

"He who hast shed the blood of his own children, who hast fled from thine holy retribution and spread mockery upon thine wise and eternal judgement..."

...A low groan echoed through the fog, an inhuman rumble that faintly touched the ears of the man! His eyes went wide and the remaining color in his face bled away! Searchlight, however, was too deep in his chant to notice

"...Oh god..."

"May thine mercy allow thee to open thine arms to thine son once more, welcoming him into thine eternal grace forever..."

The man tried to move, to lift himself, but the weakness of his bloodied form barely allowed him to shift his weight, the man falling over on his side as he attempted to scramble away!

"Amen-"

Suddenly, a massive pair of moose-like jaws SHOT out from the fog, LATCHING around the man's neck as he let out a feral, fearful scream! Searchlight jerked back in shock, as the man was pulled into the fog head-first, his scream REVERBRATING through it all... until it too disappeared! Searchlight stood there, stunned beyond words... before quickly dispelling the fog with a wave of his hand! As the white faded, giving way to the forest ahead of him and the road behind, Searchlight saw that, parallel to the road, a red-trail had been left behind where the man had once been, leading deeper into the forest.

Not a moment later, several military vehicles drove past Searchlight on the road, blowing past him at such speeds, it would have blown his hat off had Searchlight not held it in place!

"...What in the Lord's name...?" He muttered, staring at the convoy as it drove off into the woods. He held his blade close even now, unwilling to sheath it after what he had seen... Something was out here and it wasn't the normal wildlife... Something that might risk the safety of the nearby town! Searchlight turned and walked in the opposite direction of the convoy, back towards civilization. He needed to ensure the safety of the people before deciding what to do next!

Michael had picked up a bottle of Jameson whiskey, when the other man offered to split the Guiness with him, the price apparently too rich for his blood. Michael couldn’t blame him, the bottle of Jameson was damn near a hundred bucks per bottle.  

“Yeah, thanks, man...” Michael gave an appreciative smile, putting the Jameson in his own basket, with the chicken, and frozen vegetable mix. “Prices up here are definitely killer.”
Michael noted how friendly the guy was, given he could very well be the mark Michael was after. Though, Michael was also being friendly, not wanting to spook anybody before he could get the drop on them.  

This very was one of things Michael hated the most about these kinds of missions, too many smiling faces, from people who might stab you in the back. But he couldn’t help that he had the resolve for such a mission.  

The attention shifted, as a convoy of military vehicles started to blast by the small store, heading up the North Road.  

As the other man discussed what was happening with the Store Clerk, Michael looked over at the FNGs, walking over to them. “Hey, anything we need to be concerned about here??” He asked, nodding to the convoy.

HORDE ARRIVAL IN TOWN: TWO TURNS

WILDERNESS

Sage walked slowly, listening intently with seismic sense more than seeing with her eyes. She could now sense, deeper in the earth, there were tendril like veins, veins that somehow spread far and wide. This far out in the wilds, these veins now reached up to the surface and began to slowly spread some vile black ichor onto the surface. Niao was now grateful for the boots Drake provided.

The mist receded, and Sage was now in sight of the source of the light – a creature with a pumpkin for a head, who had been dealing with another. The man was violently pulled deeper into the dark woods by something terrible and ominous – no living animal made that kind of lifeless, mechanical movement. But he was not the source- the vile roots in the ground had no connection to him, nor did their malevolent intent emanate from him whatsoever.

“You! Creature! You are not the source! I would know your intentions here!”

Introductions would have to wait, though, as they both now had problems. A large number of footsteps put Sage on the defensive, as the infected deer herd had encircled these two. This was no longer some random infection – there was a malevolent intelligence guiding the Necro-ambulant creatures, and they would not let these metahumans reach the town. Drawing her blade and levitating it overhead, the metal manipulator was in a sword fighting stance, her powers granting her an unusual fighting style. The creatures were now if full view; half a dozen deer, and one of their number, much larger.
A large buck scraped the ground and bayed an unholy sound. Its jaws and gums were protruding out its mouth. Large patches of fur had sloughed off, and its spine was visibly protruding from its back in 3 places. A wound in its stomach showed a bit of entrail hanging out, oozing vile fluids. Its flesh had visible boils and pustules. Not ordinary ones, Large, shiny and bulbous, and some were visibly pulsing. Its nose Its eyes glowed- GLOWED! With a purplish-pink bioluminescence.

The infected buck let out, a blood curdling cry, and like a command the herd deer charged Sage and Glowdown, three each. Sage remained icy cool in the face of these horrors, but razor focused – she knew one bite on exposed flesh was all it took to spread their vile poison. With the environment unusable she turned her power inward, focusing on her blade and her armor. She begins her deadly dance, removing the ambulant from necro-ambulant, her blade flying through the air at high speed and slicing the forelegs of the three meant for her, causing them to tumble forward. This cut their mobility in half right away, as now their hindlegs awkwardly dragged them along. Sage swayed her hands in reverse of her original movement, and removed their remaining limbs, in one smooth, wide cut. She could feel the steel slice through skin, bone and joints.

Sage breathed rapidly and refocused. She checked her surroundings, if there were more coming; she spared Glowdown a glance, if he needed aid.

GROCERY

Drake did not like that. He spared Michael a glance. “A. Military. Dig site. Man, those are two words I do not like want to hear in the same sentence.”  He sighed, heading to the cashier with his luncheon meat, beans and three cans of beer, and paid with cash.

A military Humvee drove up into the parking lot, the man driving it frantically leaving, not even bothering to turn it off. He pushed the grocery’s double doors open, looking about with frantic eyes. He wore a white helmet with ‘MP’ painted black. Military police.
The three privates looked at him nervously, and not because he was here for them. “…Sarge, you look awful. What the hell’s going on?”

Drake unfortunately, had a good look at the man. His skin was deathly pale with an undertone of green and yellow. There were deep lines under his bloodshot eyes. Some kind of green mucous dripped from his nose.

With a raspy, dry voice, he looked at the three soldiers. “We have to… evacuate the town… they’re coming…” He gasped, garnering nervous glances from the townspeople. A soldier telling them to evacuate? People came forward to press him for information.  It was below zero outside, but the MP was sweating bullets. Without asking, he grabs one of the liter bottles of drinking water from the privates’ basket, and chugged it down as fast as he could, finishing it all in under 20 seconds, while getting the front of his uniform soaked.

“Whoa, where’s the fire Sarge?” The privates asked, and people in the store stopped looking at their phones, and stood in place, uneasy. They stepped away from the MP when he went straight to the grocery shelves and opened a bottle of Vodka and started chugging.

Drake did a little tilt with his glasses to take a good look at the MP starting to chug that cheap Russian liquor. He could see his pain, his throat barely able to cope with him trying to drown himself with fluids. In his long experience, there were a handful of things that made people this thirsty, and none of them good.  “Shit, shit, shit” Drake realized that the situation now was escalating. Niao was still at the motel, probably alone. He made a few steps towards the exit, his hand already pushing it open when he hears the most awful sound that caused him to turn around.

Halfway through his second bottle, he started retching blood and fleshy bits in front of Michael, probably getting some on his shoes. That was when a lady shouted, and panic began at the grocery. “Oh my god! Call for help!”

One of the soldiers approached the MP, and grabbed him by the arm. “Sarge, you’re in no condition to be here. Let’s take you to the clin- EAAAAGH!” perhaps to no one’s surprise, or to everyone’s horror, the MP sank his teeth into the private’s neck, taking a big chunk of flesh out of it. The young man collapsed, clutching his neck; his major artery had been torn open and blood spilled out on the floor. The Infected MP looked around with his bloody exposed teeth, eager for his next victim. People dropped all their groceries and ran, bottle-necking the exit.

Glowerdown, much to his own frustration, was stopped on his way towards the town by some... nobody, a woman demanding to know his purpose here, remarking he was not the "source." The pumpkin-headed avenger stopped dead in his tracks at a respectable distance from the stranger, the flame in his face flaring challengingly with the quite roar of stoked fire. Source...? What source? Of the maddened wild-life, perhaps? And what of it did this stranger know? And if she did know of it and, seemingly, Glowerdown's lack of connection to it, why would she stop him? Many questions... but only one response.

"Thou hast no business with me." Searchlight stated flatly, gripping tightly the hilt of his blade. "'Tis best if thou flees southward towards civilization. Dark forces beyond mine understanding plagues these woods."

As if on cue, the heavy, clumsy footsteps of the accursed echoed through the hallowed woods, Glowerdown turning quickly towards the noise only to discover... that it came from ALL directions! Slowly, pushing through the barbed and dying arctic brush, massive, ragged deer pushed out into view, a small herd surrounding both the pumpkin-man and the woman the way a pack of wolves might their wounded target. If his face could change expression, the flaming-headed man might have displayed a look of shock, horror even, seeing how utterly DEVESTATED these creatures were, from the shred-marks along their necks and bodies, to the gaping holes in their skulls! Blood, puss and whatever nameless fluids ebbed from the wounds of these beasts as they circled their targets!

"God has abandoned this place..." Searchlight whispered, raising his blade between himself and the accursed animals! "...Demons infest these bodies... and must be purged! Infernals taketh thee, foul creatures!"

As if triggered by Glowerdown's battle-cry, the buck, the largest (and perhaps most heavily wounded of the bunch) let out its own soul-chilling bellow, commanding the other walking-corpses to charge forwards! Three deer charged down Glowerdown specifically, the pumpkin-headed man leveling his blade towards one as he raised his lantern towards another! Flames would BURST out of the open-windowed lantern, WASHING over the walking-carcass to his right, ENGULFING it in an instant! It would collapse to the side and writhe, inching towards Searchlight until its flesh bubbled to nothing! The second ran RIGHT into Glowerdown's blessed silver-sword in the following moments, the strength behind the blade turning it into a pike which struck true through the hardy skull of the deer, DIGGING into its noggin and down into its neck! The deer made not a sound, as its form gave way, Glowerdown pulling free his weapon before the collapsing deer could wrench it from his hand!

The third deer struck Glowerdown... or, rather, passed through him, its fel-horns slipping through his shape as Glowerdown faded into a foggy cloud around it!

"Unholy monsters..." He whispered as he reformed atop the deer's back, STABBING his blade into the creature's neck and cutting off its brain from it's body! The deer would freeze, shudder, then collapse as Glowerdown jumped off of it, the head still SNAPPING at the man's ankles, its teeth closing around nothing but fog. Searchlight... was sickened by this... ravenousness, a ferociousness that denied even the basics of anatomy! It should be DEAD yet... it lives even still!

"Burn in holy fire!" Searchlight hissed, flames BLAZING from his mouth over the deer, engulfing it in a matter of moments! He had waiting until its body ceased to move before snapping his fingers, the flames going out to reveal nothing but charred, smoking bones... The scent was unfathomable, the taste of the smoke glued to his tongue. Rancid flash... Dead for a time.

Glowerdown would turn his head back to see how his "compatriot" was doing, only to see that she, too, had just finished off her share of the beasts. All that remained... was the buck.

"This foul scourge commands them, yes...?" Glowerdown rumbled, turning towards the moldering buck! "We end this 'source' here!"

Before Michael could get an answer, a Humvee drifted up to the store, and a MP busted into the store, looking like he had been swimming in a pool of hazardous waste. “Hey, buddy...” Michael approached him cautiously, as the MP had already downed a jug of water, and then had started in on a rather large bottle of cheap Russian liquor. “You need to take it easy, there, or you’re gonna...”

Before Michael could say it, the MP turned, his face flushed, heaving in an all too familiar fashion, before blowing chunks.

Michael, seeing it coming a mile away, managed to side step the poor guy, letting it all out on the floor.

As the Privates gathered up the MP, Michael noticed something odd about the contents the man just purged.

It was mostly blood, which some chunks, most likely internal organs that were starting to be eaten away. But there was something else in the blood, something black, and almost seemed alive.

“What the...” He couldn’t finish, one of the privates let out a scream.

Michael spun around to see something he thought he would never see, as the MP had ripped out a decent chunk of the rookies neck with his teeth, rupturing the carotid artery. “Ah, that explains it.”

As the customers all started to gather at the exit, creating a bottle neck situation, the MP snarled, looking from Michael, who remained alone, to the crowd.

“Don’t you even think about it...” Michael muttered to the Zombie, as if he was talking to a child, about to do something bad. He reached down for the 1911 colt he had holstered, unclasping the loop as fast as he could.

But before he could draw the pistol, the MP made his next move. As if it knew going after Michael would be an issue, or seeing the crowd as more food, the MP opted for the crowd, as it snarled and screeched, making it’s charge.

“Fuck...” Michael, seeing that shooting it would risk hitting someone on accident, rushed forward himself, trying to catch up to the man before he could reach the crowd. “Everyone, move away, now!!” He barked to the crowd, scooping up a can of beans in his free hand.

With rather surprising precision, Michael beamed the beans towards the mans head, going to try and at least knock it off balance, and slow it down enough for him to catch it.

NATIONAL GUARD – DOWN THE ROAD FROM SAGE AND GLOWLIGHT

The National Guard was a formidable force, and in a conventional fight they would likely win. But this was no conventional enemy, nor a conventional fight as they'd understand. A malign intelligence caused the bubbling black liquid on the ground to release a foul black mist. The battle tank in front was bogged down by the same fluids, causing the convoy to halt in its tracks.

The Horde scaled the battle tank, though they could do little to it, the tank couldn’t contribute meaningfully either. Its crew put it in reverse, and the engine into overdrive. They rapidly reposition deeper into the woods.

The infantrymen in the transport truck were on alert. “The fuck is that? Hey, Sarge, I can’t see a thing in this chicken shit outfit.”

“Deal with it. Lock and load, boys.”  The men comply and load their rifles with magazines, chambering a round and ready for battle.

“Visibility is shit for me too, Sarge.”

The Sergeant wiped the condensation from his NBD head gear. He saw something large and fast. “Everybody out of the truck!” he yelled, but it was too late. The troop transport truck was violently pushed over when a massive figure concealed by the mist emerged, sending men flying. An unlucky few were impaled by massive tusks, the massive ivory stained crimson with blood. Men screamed, but they attempt to fight back. Someone yelled for “flamethrower!”

The sergeant’s footing was lost when he stepped in that treacherous liquid. He rolled around to see a massive Mammoth killing his squadron, its unnaturally long and prehensile snout snatching more men and impaling them on its tusk in a morbid kebab. The liquid held fast like adhesive, not allowing the sergeant to stand.

The sergeant steeled his heart for the end. He primed all his grenades and tossed them at a point between himself and began blasting away at the beast with his rifle. “Come on, motherfucker!” Getting its attention, the mammoth came over to reduce the brave man into a smear on the ground. The grenades exploding beneath it, but black matter from inside it closed the wounds.  

Once the mammoth was done, all its intact victims stood up, and joined the horde behind it. They continue down the road.

SAGE – THE WILDERNESS
Sage covered her nose and mouth with silk napkins to block out the wretched smell of burning infected flesh. She acknowledged the possibly otherworldly stranger having quite a few abilities. Against the infected deer he fared as well as she, but Sage was never to assume victory in any situation.  The Buck, imposing as he appeared, was not much more a threat than its former herd. Its limbs were thick enough that Sage could only cleave one at a time, but this proved enough- it awkwardly fell over and had difficulty getting up.

Sage opened her senses to the earth once more. No, the Buck had no effect on it. “The corruption inside the earth is only increasing. The buck was not the source…” Sage concluded rather ominously.

From the mist they emerged. It was a large wooly mammoth, a creature trapped in the Alaskan ice and only thawed out recently. The mammoth was in as poor condition as the wild animals thus encountered, but, rather than exposed flesh and organs, its form seemed held together by a black goop. And of course, it was leading an army of the dead. The shambling corpses were a mixture of fresh bodies, old soviet soldiers in great coats, and even skeletal husks in furs, returned from a primordial age.

“That is!” Sage eyed the lumbering beast, and the vile black goop that filled the crevices in its body. Supported as it was by its minions, she performed a quick mental arithmetic and concluded that staying here was a bad idea.
“I would advise we make for the town! And quickly!” Sage said calmly, advising Glowlight. She turns around and starts making for the town.

DRAKE - THE GROCERY

People were more than eager to leave the grocery in a hurry, though a few brave souls went and saved the private that was bitten. His companions pointed their guns at their former handler. “Sarge stop it!” “Sarge we’re gonna shoot!” they warned their fellow, to no avail. Not that they could shoot, as the MP was now committed to snacking on Michael.

The can of beans simply dented against the infected MP. Its helmet served as rudimentary protection, but its unnatural tenacity kept it coming, recovering much too quickly, or rather, no longer having a conventional nervous system that could be incapacitated.

Drake saw the MP come for the crowd and put himself in the line of fire, pulling out a telescopic baton. Drake saw that pain was not going to deter this infected. Like a druggie high on their poison, he’d have to rely on mechanics. With room to swing, he goes with a jaw strike, feeling and hearing the crunch of steel on bone, following through immediately with a backhand swing then a heavy front kick. His lower jaw hung loose, so the bite threat was diminished, and the kick sent him sprawling. The MP recovered and lunged at the young cashier they spoke to earlier. "Get away from her!" He said, fatherly instincts kicking in. He put the baton around its neck, pulling as hard as he could to bodily pry him off and toss him to the side.

The MP was not unbalanced for long. “Motherfucker is strong!” Drake said, struggling with keeping him at bay with one arm, the thing digging its teeth and nails into Drake, scratching away at his clothes to reveal dark scale mail beneath. It was literally the only thing keeping him from getting bitten.

Drake reached for his own piece, a massive Taurus .454 casull, but its size let the infected slap it away, sliding at Michael’s feet. “Ah shit, shit, shit!” Drake’s attention was put entirely into just keep it at bay, redirecting its jaws and limbs. The Taurus was a weapon suited for hunting wild boar and bear, but perhaps also, inhuman enemies like this one...

"It is not? Then slay this beast so we might find the true source." Glowerdown stated, annoyed at Sage's report. What was more, she seemed to have her focus elsewhere, musing on something not immediately present now that the threat of danger was, for the moment, erased. Well, if she wasn't content to purge her share of these demons, Glowerdown was more than content to pick up her slack! Sheathing his blade and tucking it back within his coat, Glowerdown, instead, raised his lantern as he approached the buck, a searing flame coagulating into a dense sphere of blaze within the confines of its steel cage.

"Burn in a hell of thine own." Searchlight growled... Only to pause as the ground rumbled around his feet! It was a rhythmic, rumble like the world-quaking steps of a giant, the pumpkin-headed man slowly raising his head as he realized that a REAL monster... was approaching from behind the buck! As the fog gave way to its hulking husk, the beast's rotted trunk-nose reached out for Glowerdown, the man raising an arm to bat it away... only realize just how heavy and thick the appendage was! What stood before Searchlight was unlike anything he had ever seen, with its ruined, wing-like leathery ears to its thick matted fur, with a body more dense than a Bear's and a face with a tentacle-like protrusion coming out of its middle! Its eyes sunk into its face like red beads amongst the black, dark ooze and bile sanguinating from the gashes upon its ancient form.

"...A true demon..." Glowerdown whispered, his voice trembling in his hollow, pumpkin-mouth!

Human shapes, as ruined and gutted as the creature was, ebbed out from the woods around them, their groans and gasps like the hollow breathing of dying men, crying out for God's mercy in the only way their ruined shapes could allow. Blood and black seeped from their bodies, insides on the outside... mockeries of the human form. They flanked the giant demon like a contingent of soldiers, arms extended, reaching for Glowerdown and his companion, mouths open and drooling gore and worse. For a moment, Searchlight stood there, stunned still as he beheld such a terrible sight, his body trembling and even the flames within himself dwindling amidst his intimidation! The demon seemed to lower its head towards Glowerdown for a moment, considering him like a big cat might its entrapped prey, its sanguine eyes staring soullessly at that which stood before it! Its rotted, corkscrew-tusks nearly raked at Glowerdown's chest as it made such a motion, as if taunting the man... if it were capable of such cruelty!

"...F-...Foul creatures!" Glowerdown declared, snapping out of his daze! Raising his hands, flames would FLARE up around him in a circle of FIRE, the buck recoiling quickly beside the mammoth, the giant... unmoved. "I SHALL BURN THEE TO THINE SOUL!" The roar of flames nearly drowned out Sage's words of wisdom, beckoning them to retreat back to town! Securing their safety, after all, was more important than this battle here! Glowerdown looked through the flames to his left and right, realizing that the human-monsters were only growing in number, the chattering of their rotted teeth and the squelching of their exposed guts filling the woods as they surrounded the two!

...With these numbers, an engagement here would doom them both. Even Searchlight saw that.

"...Bah." He growled, SWIPING his hand to the side! Suddenly, a deep cloud of fog would roll in around both Glowerdown and sage, obscuring them from view and hiding them from the demons' corroded senses! With mammoth demon would let out a throaty bellow as it STAMPED its foot where Glowerdown had once been, feeling nothing beneath its meaty-limb as it collided with the earth! As the fog cleared... they, with their rotted eyes, would see... nothing, their prey gone just as they had encircled them!

____________________
Glowerdown and Sage would arrive back in town in a veil of fog... a town now under siege by MORE of those creatures! It was chaos. From the store in the center of town, people screamed and ran and fled, some covered in blood and jumping on their fellow man, others "clean" but acting just as madly, shoving others down to get away!

Images of his colony burning FLASHED before Searchlight's hollow eyes, rage... BOILING in his stomach!

"This is unacceptable..." Glowerdown growled, marching towards the crowd and drawing his blade! "Mine own suffering shalt not be relived again!"

As the MP latched onto the other man, smacking his firearm away, Michael picked up the rather large magnum. “Marines and their big ass guns.” He pulled out his .45 with the other hand, firing a few rounds into the MPs back.

While it didn’t drop the creature, it definitely got its attention, as it looked up from other mans arm, its mouth, now flayed to a gaping maw, it’s lower jaw barely hanging on, having been torn up by the previous beating, let out bloodcurdling sound, like a wild cry. “That’s it, you ugly mother fucker, come get a real meal.” Michael muttered, holstering his .45.

The creature practically leapt from it’s position, lunging forward towards Michael, a rapid dash on all fours, like a wild animal.

It made a jump, trying to use it’s body weight to force Michael onto the ground.

Michael would, instead, use that momentum to flip the creature over his shoulder, and slam it back onto the ground in a judo-toss fashion. He then quickly put his boot to its throat, pinning it down while he took aim with the hand cannon, firing a single round into the creatures left eye.

The head burst into a small puddle of blood, brains, and skull pieces, as the entire store smelled of rot and gunpowder, and the room had a consistent ring from the gunshot.

“You good??” Michael walked over to the other man, offering a hand to help him up.

That’s when Michael noticed the under-armor, a black scale mail style. While the gun could easily be explained, given they were currently in bushcraft and bear country, but that armor wasn’t exactly something you could pick up at your local gun store.

“Names Michael...”

There was nothing he could do, not right now at least. He was supposed to intercept this man out on the road, and call in the extraction team. With everyone scrambling, and more of those creatures coming out, Michael had more pressing matters than the mission.

“We need to get people back in here and secure it...” Michael stated, checking the rounds he has left on his current pistol mag, packing 6 more on his belt. “We’re also gonna need more than just sidearms, so we need to secure your vehicle first.”

At this point, the man was more of an asset to Michael, given he had a truck currently stocked full of high-powered weapons. So, it was best if he just laid the cards on the table, then they could focus on securing the town, and eliminating the threat.

SAGE

Sage felt the brief split second her connection to the earth severed, as the familiar sensation of teleportation via Glowerdown’s mysterious mist carried them to the center of town, facing the grocery. People were leaving the store en masse, getting to their vehicles.

“Attention! Citizens! The town is under threat! Your lives, nay, your very souls hang in the balance!” Sage tried to get their attention, to no avail.

Sage’s words fell on deaf ears. She sighed, and created a large earth mound to get all of their attention. This time, she inhaled deep, and projected her voice, her draconic presence stirring a deep and primal instinct in the people. “A horde of monsters is coming to the town!”

“Then we’ll just leave for Anchorage! The National Guard can handle it!” One man in the crowd said, a few agreeing.

“No! the National Guard were destroyed! Help is too far, the danger is too near! We saw them! If you run, you’ll be caught in the open and killed!” Sage pleaded.

Sage looked around for something to use. She pointed to her ally, Glowerdown. “Behold this revenant! He has witnessed the blight coming to claim this town! Hear his words!” She said, hoping Glow could help convince the people that fighting was the option.

DRAKE

Why did Michael have to be so casual about knowing about his operation? Not “…Fuck, somebody did know. Not cool bruh.” Drake cursed. But he looked out the grocery window and saw his crazy time displaced aunt Niao was already rallying the citizenry in what was obviously a grandiose speech. When he went out into the cold parking lot, he saw people were going for their guns. “Yeah, hunting rifles and shotguns aren’t going to cut it.”

“Drake! We have no choice. We must use the weapons.” Sage spots Drake in the crowd, and just finalized the plan.

Once he was put on the spot, Drake had not much else to say. He was no hero, and certainly didn’t find it in himself to be altruistic. But letting the people of a town die to those… things… without a fight was too cruel even for him. “Hey! I need everybody who knows how to use a gun to follow me!”

Drake called the crowd to follow him to his truck, and slowly they trickled after him.

Sage shook her head. The secret was out it, from her understanding, and quickened the process. Like paper wrapper, one side of the container groaned and was torn open by telekinetic force, revealing the massive arsenal within. Drake approached, but the master of metal was not done – she brought the racks out of the container one by one, until all the weapons intended for Africa was now spread out for all to see. Mountains of ammunition and explosives were available to use.

Drake felt like he was parting with his own limbs. Giving away weapons for free, he’d never live this down as a gun runner. A very skeptical Alaskan man and his two brothers were first in line. “AK- 47’s, 74’s and AKMS for everyone! 100% absolutely free! A once in a lifetime offer! This is your chance to own authentic hardware from Mother Russia! If you know how to use an RPG, feel free to grab one!” He arms the Alaskans, who gave him the stink eye, but if it meant surviving whatever was to come, they would deal with Drake later. Or never.

“Didn’t think I’d see these again. Hey Harold! Remember when we stole a bunch of these from the Russians in Afghanistan??” A bunch of older gentlemen eyed up the RPG’s and hefted them with practiced ease. Others picked up machine guns with bipods and belts of ammo, and set up on a small crest overlooking the road into town.

Sage saw the townsfolk were willing to defend their home, she’d give them the credit. With no further words, Sage begins creating earthworks, creating a long, winding trench on one whole side of the town and filled it with sharpened rocks to halt the advance of the horde when it arrived.

Glowerdown had already been making his way towards the chaos by the time Sage had attempted her appeal to the crowd, his sword biting through infected as surely as their teeth had through the innocent. His actions were cold, quiet, sterile, his movements quick and efficient, but without obvious malice, anger of fear one might expect in a situation such as this! The haunting faces of the dead were enough to shake any man's resolve... and lucky for Glowerdown, he didn't have much of a face to show what he was feeling. All he had to do was focus on the work, the purging of the infected. He had to save as many of God's children as possible before their souls too were tainted by this demonic presence! This was his mission, what he harbored this demon for, what he walked this EARTH for...

...But Sage, in her infinite wisdom, decided to make him more than a martyr: an Icon. Glowerdown would rip his blade from the skull of one of the infected, a woman whose blood curdled red and black, as Sage invoked him, turning the attention of all those living upon him... as if he had an inspiring word or two to say. Glowerdown raised his head from the corpse he had just ended, his hollow, flaming eye-sockets falling upon the locals, observing them closely. They were frightened, weak-willed, pathetic in an innumerable number of ways. It was almost guarenteed, in his estimation, that if they fought, they were going to die either to the infected... or to him when they turned. If they ran, chances were they'd either die in the wilderness or to the infected running them down.

...Bah.

"God helps those who help themselves." Glowerdown began, lifting his blade up, the black sludge rolling down his blade and dripping onto the pure-white snow. "Thou shalt not abandon thine own kinsmen in their time of need. To do so guarantees thine own death and theirs. Too arms, men. Draw thine blades and load thine guns. Purge the demons that infest thine village! The faces they wear matters not... nor shalt they spare thee quarter. Spare them none in turn."

As if to emphasize his point, Glowerdown would STOMP his foot onto the body of the infected at his feet, their form BURSTING into flames before fading to ash just as quickly!

"...Hell welcomes the souls of demons and cowards... See to it that thou shalt become neither."

...And without another word, Glowerdown marched into the crowd and towards the store where the infected had sprung from, flames starting to arch up the neck of his silver blade, coating it in a blazing orange veil. Some would follow Glowerdown in, picking up whatever heavy/damaging object they could find: Sticks, rocks, even shards of glass. Others looked at one another in confusion, as if uncertain what to do... And others still seemed unconvinced... and perhaps even MORE frightened by the unholy creature's meaningless ramblings!

As Glowerdown kicked in the door to the store, sending fragments and pieces scattering inside, the wild-eyed infected looked up from their "meals", faces caked with the universal color of man. Together, in unison, they SHOT UP AND LUNGED for the townsfolk, behind Glowerdown, unholy gibbering escaping from their rotted lips!

"In the name of the Lord, the Son and the Holy Spirit..." Glowerdown chanted, caving in the head of the nearest infected with his lantern! "May thine children stand firm against this demonic plague... Banish these invading spirits from the bodies of man and entangle them forever in the deepest pits of hell..." Another infected lunged for Glowerdown, but this time, one of the civilians hurled a brick at it, SLAMMING it in the face and dropping it to the ground at the revenant's feet! The pumpkin-headed man wasted not a moment in raising his boot up and CRUSHING its head.

"...May thine children be protected against this blight and all that come after..."

Glowerdown bowed his head , raising his blade up to his face.

"...Amen."

Michael didn’t stick around to see Drakes face when he revealed his knowledge of the smuggled weapons, he simply didn’t have time, as outside of the store turned into a bloodbath.

He looked over to the other privates, who seemed to be lost in the chaos and confusion, clearly fresh out of training, with no CO to bark orders at them.

Luckily, there was a Captain on hand. “You two, form up!!” He unzipped his Sherriff jacket, revealing the plate carrier underneath. “I got a couple arms and vests in my truck, we’re gonna take point, and find the source of this infection.”

“Sir...”

“Captain, private.”

“Captain, we aren’t prepped for this kinda situation.”

“You’ve passed basic, right?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Up to date on your callsigns and squad tactics, right?”

“Yes”

“Then you’re as prepped as you’re ever gonna need to be, private.”

“Cap...”

“Private, I don’t have time to give you some motivational rally speech, because if you look out there, there are lives on the line, somebody has to stop this, and there are three of us standing here, who are capable to doing something, so if you wanna sit here, suck on your thumb, and wait for things to blow over, then go ahead, but I’m gonna go out there, and I’m gonna find out what’s causing this, cause that was the oath I took as a Ranger.”

As he said Ranger, the Privates eyes nearly lit up, as a newfound confidence had been instilled them.

The one Michael was talking too straightened up, all fear and concern leaving his face, as he spoke up. “We should go check the dig site, Captain, top brass had something they were looking for there.”

Michael smirked, pulling out his spare pistols. “Alright, first we get kitted up, and then we head to the dig site.” He handed the privates the pistol. “Headshots seem to put them down, count your shots, and move in formation.”

“Yes, Captain!!”

The three of them then moved outside, pistols up.

They only had a few yards to get to the truck, but the commotion and chaos made it a fight, as they dropped infected left and right, helped civilians get clear of the creatures, and made a path for Drake to his own vehicle.

As they got to Michaels truck, a mound of earth suddenly sprung up from the ground to his left, as a small Asian womans voice called out from on top of it, getting the towns attention.

“Damn, she’s loud.” One of the privates noted, as they strapped themselves up with plate carriers, spare mags, M4s, and a couple grenades.

Michael nodded, grabbing his own 416, making a mental note as she mentioned Drake, realizing the Agent who contracted him left out some crucial details about a meta being involved in the smuggling.

The second figure to speak up, made it clear by his words he wasn’t directly associated with Drake and this woman, but was most likely a meta that had been swept up into the fight.

None-the-less, his words oddly rung true for Michael, regardless of the religious phrasing. “Everyone, get inside and barricade the store...” He barked out to the townsfolk. “Anybody able to shoot, grab a gun, and protect the others...” He looked back to the privates. “I will be leading a fireteam to the potential source of this mess, and, hopefully, find a way to stop it...” He looked back to the townsfolk. “If you don’t hear from us by morning, then I suggest you make plans to extract from here.”