Night of The Dead- Chapter 3: The Source

Anti-matter. The supposed material synthetically engineered to replace the energy-providing nuclear power. This newly generated material was a reputable finding, that it was able to undo all nuclear plants, giving way to a safer and non-contaminating world for the people. But like all new discoveries, scientists would normally not release them, not until they are absolutely proof of flaws. The financiers thought otherwise. It was time for profit to flow in. It was time to sell the Anti-matter.
The material was not safe. Not one little bit so. This synthetic powerplant can generate enough energy to light up metro cities 5 years over, with only one ounce of its mass. Enough energy to compete with 500 mega-tonnes of nuclear bombs. Enough energy to wipe out half a continent, more like. The Anti-matter is not stable, not as the advertisements said. It was particularly weak against one matter: Oxygen.
Carefully constructed from the biological stance of energy releasing and energy absorbing chemical reactions within, the Anti-matter was created with a theory that it would consume itself and then release its own power again, in an endless cycle to power the world. The chains of reaction were vulnerable to oxygen, the substance that would break all of the Anti-matter's bindings, causing the material to lose all its chemical stability.

Sales of this new found technology was unbelievable. Nations calculated and estimated billions of dollars of reduction on annual power supply expenditure, having used the Anti-matter to power their countries. Half a year prior to their launching, the development company was already cashing in profits clean to every other ounce of Anti-matter sold by the marginal prices of production.
The world rejoiced at a cleaner planet, one safe to live in, and one well preserved for 'our children, and theirs'. But the idealistic world of safe power generators, free from unstable nuclear plants, ended. 4 months back, parts of the American continent was burnt down. Six Anti-matter generating powerplants blew, and land the size of half the USA was flattened into wastelands. Billions died, innocent, all.
The ones responsible sat in the comfort of their luxurious offices, behind their expensive lawyers, and blaming the scientists for all the flaws. Panic drove every city in the world empty, civilians now seeking refuge in the poorer nations that were before this unable to purchase the Anti-matter for their own countries.
Reports filed, as rescue teams recovered something besides dead bodies of innocent lives at the accident site. A little less than full bodies, some have had themselves torn apart by.... claws. Rescue teams have also had little problems getting back.. alive. Special forces have been dispatched to the site to further investigate the sightings, and scientists were to find out what happened in there.

"There had been a biohazard meltdown in the accident site", some declared. Politicians and business people denied those claims, and started stuffing the scientists' throats with either cash or bullets. Havoc began to wreck the world, curious people voicing opinions that the governments were hiding conspiracies. The United World's Committee dispatched a team to the site to uncover evidences of biohazard fallout last week. Six men, three were highly skilled Bioengineers, the other three elite members of the Ghost Team created for extreme case co-op missions.
Its been nearly a week, now. They're not back yet. That led to us being here in this meeting room.

Night of The Dead- Chapter 2: Introduction

The day was already drawing to an end. There I was, sitting on a chair, in front of a long table. Both red, save the steel frames. The aroma of the cup of coffee I had clad in my hands, the yellow plastic cup still warm. Behind me, the sun was already making its descent, casting a drape of orange carpet flooding into the room. My eyes ran up the wall, in search of an answer.
'7 o' clock.'
The wall was wholly white, save the decaying corners of the paint due to years of bad upkeep. It wasn't a surprise anyway. This place has been uninhabited for quite a while. The last time this place saw life, the world saw an end to bio warfare. What led to such unanimous decision, was a depressing incident that caused destruction at catastrophic proportions.

I gripped the cup's handle, and stood, pushing the chair backwards. Silence was broken with a set of loud screeching sound of steel grinding on the cement floor. I freed myself from the seating area, and proceeded towards the other side. A wide set of glass panes, stretching from one end of the hall to the other, divided only by aluminum frames.
The sky was red, as if it was on fire. Beyond the horizon, a ball of flames was almost half way behind the world. The coffee filled my mouth, taste of bitter aroma calming my mind, then ran down my throat, the warmth rather soothing.
There was nothing to be seen through the glass windows, save a desolate wasteland that stretches as far as the horizon drawed, and an approaching Gazelle Type helicopter.
'Must be the guys,' I thought to myself, as I gulped the remaining coffee down my throat.
'A total waste of good coffee, being downed in such instance.'

The helipad was at least at a measurement of 50 meters by 50 meters, running yellow lights chasing each other around the designated courses. If one could have the time to just gaze at the lights running around, he would surely find it mesmerising, as how I was when I was up there awaiting the chopper's arrival.
The helicopter landed, stirring up else settled sand and dust from the ground. I sheltered my eyes for a moment to avoid the whirlwind, and as I regained sight of the helicopter, 3 shadows emerged from the veil that hid the machine that was screaming behind. Each figure had heavy-looking cases hung from their fingers, heavy from their posture of the 'gravity-defying' like.

Night of The Dead- Chapter 1: The End

The night was already drawing to an end. The surrounding was silent, save the roar of the machine propelling the helicopter we were in from the outside, and the radio reports announcing our arrival back to base from the front. It felt like heaven having boarded the helicopter, as if god gave us a second chance at having to see another sun rise.
It was there. The sun. Rising from behind a mass of fogged up mountains, and it was like a carpet of golden ray flooding up the world. The veil of darkness will once again be revealed. I could feel my temple pounding, pulse feeling like a hammer slamming in my head. I was getting my migraine again. There was no medicine to take away that pain right now, but somehow I was happy to feel it. I was happy I could still feel anything, actually.

To my right, the rest of my team. The highly respected Omega Squadron, supposedly being able to fulfill any requirements set for us. Propaganda. They wanted the people to feel at ease. They merely wanted to control panic from the civilians. What we saw last night, they will make us keep silent. What we saw last night, we could never forget.
Sitting at my right was Chris. The Ghost Division of the Marine Corp calls him Sergeant Major Night Cat. The government military bragged this person having the eyes of a cat at night, that he could see through all shadows of darkness, that his marksmanship was the best. They were right, actually. There was no one else I would've trusted to support our team with, but his ability to precisely puncture the enemies' hearts from 3000 feet away.
Still holding on to his sniping rifle, Night Cat was already halfway into wonderland. That rifle. The M-29C Black Arrow .50. An armor piercing gun that loads up ammunition so sharp and slim, they could penetrate kevlar like paper. That was regarding man-made protection suits. The ones we've encountered last night was rather.... unconventional.
In front of me sat Ric. His face scarred from bad shaving unkeep, and souvenirs of previous battles. The Marine Corp calls him 2nd Lieutenant Kheez. I called him the Torch. Kheez was a trained expert at a specialty known as a Firebat. In normal circumstances, his expertise was only needed in Search And Destroy (SAD) missions. The previous mission was a little more delicate, but his unwillingness to 'keep the fire small' prove to be quite an asset.
That gun he was holding. It looked as if it could weigh half a ton. Black steel exterior, with carbon stains still hung onto the edge of the wide double-barrel sitting on the ground of the helicopter. They call it the Arclite M23 Hecate, but I personally would scrap off that docile scientific rendition of the Hellfire Edition-X. Next to the gun was a twin gas tank, now empty. Still, I could smell the heavy sense of petrol hanging in the air.

The helicopter was banking left, and from where I sat, I could already see civilization. Too much has happened last night. I could make do with a nice shower, some lovely pancakes, and 3 days of continuous sleep. Not to mention a 6-month holiday to the beach. But the incident last night was far from over. I had a feeling the Admiral would only allow us access to shower and pancakes. She was nice, Admiral Ling. But her actions were always tied by the authorities above, the so-called Hands-of-God. Relating themselves closer to being with God just meant that they had the power to create and destroy all of us. Those idiots. They made a mess of the world, and they send us to fix it.
I should think there'll be a lot of explaining to do once we land. Being the leader of a squad is surely an itch of a hassle more than the rest. I guess it sure does pay off, when I get to come home with all my teammates intact.

Mikel Raikov, the fourth person on board the helicopter. His callsign was Crucist, and I personally think he was the best reconnaissance soldier I've ever worked with. He could study the map for half an hour, and remember almost precisely every grid and inch of the map for a week. On top of that, he could run like an Olympic Gold Medalist. Crucist was an important asset to my tactical planning, as he could track enemy prints and project their movements easily and correctly.
Crucist was the second man I have in command, although his job could be calculated as being far more dangerous than any of ours put together. He was given Number 2 only because his sensibility, of rather, sanity was still present in him. Also because he was ranked Captain, second to mine.

We were already closing in to our destination. All of them were awake, and had begun packing their 'luggage' now.
"So much for a 'simple' SAR mission, eh," Night Cat broke the silence, speaking at a volume higher than the machine's roar. I gave a slight nod.
"I think they've got more explanations to do instead of us," I agreed.
Silence hung around for a moment, then Kheez said, "I just wanna go get my cigars."