Embrace The Madness: Cataclysm

Expedition-9 (epilogue)

[day 378] - {Pvt. Dublin}

In the northern reaches of England, just outside of York and Middlesbrough, a small convoy of trucks sped along a bypass.
Cars were pushed into the ditches along the roads, making the streets more clear and easier to drive on.

Dublin, the young private's code name, sat in the dark with his fellow soldiers and researchers. They all listened as the voice of a rambling scientist filled the air. They stammered as they explained their fascination with the dead, as well as their research plans.
The two "spods", a nickname that they were unaware of, droned on and on and on about their findings.

"The base form of the reincarnation is extraordinary in itself, though I'm looking forward to seeing this specimen."

"There's a new one?!" The lab rat was a young woman, maybe mid-twenties. She had light brown skin with brunette hair tied in a bun. She pushed her glasses back up every time they fell.

"Oh yes! We've had reports of double, even triple times growth in muscle mass, height, aggression..." the other researcher was a man, slightly older, with pale skin with a receding hairline. He looked tired, but that didn't hinder his enthusiasm.

"What is wrong with you?" Came a different voice. It came from a man with a thick Scouse accent, a thick layer of stubble covered his pink face. He wore a dark grey skullcap with thick sideburns sticking out from underneath. "They're not animals, not fucking aliens, they're people."

"They were..." a new voice came from the back of the truck, from an even older man staring out the crack in the doors. He had a sorrowful look on his face. "Hey, Jen... how many people are left?"

The researcher gripped her clipboard tighter, slowly beginning to flip through the pages. "Uhh, nationally or globa-"

"How... many" he repeated.

"Well, the initial outbreak resulted in 50 per cent global casualties, that... was months ago."

"S-some island nations have managed to hold on, y'know places like the Maldives, Madagascar, some Greek islands... but... but nearly every country has reported heavy casualties" the male scientist bit his lip and looked down at the thought of what he said haunted him for the rest of the journey.

"Get it together, all of you" the last of the six passengers was a large man, with dark grey hair, a squared jaw, and a body packed with muscle. He sat tall with his arms crossed. Unlike the other soldiers, he did not have an orange armband, his face was known amongst the A.F.D.C, the 'Armed Forces for Disease Control'. His name was Michael Morgan, but everyone called him 'The Warden'.

The truck came to a halt, causing everyone to lean to one side momentarily. The driver tapped on the truck wall twice and the doors automatically opened.
The clicking and tapping of machine guns kickstarted the departure. One by one, the soldiers escorted the scientist along a wide field with a patch of trees on one side.
A few undead stragglers emerged from the other side of the motorway. After a quick radio chat, the second team of soldiers made quick work of them.

Dublin couldn't believe what he was seeing, his mouth agape. He had come into very close contact with the undead, but nothing like this.

The booming growls and angry roars could be heard from miles away. The beast itself stood at around seven feet, the soldiers had managed to wrap the beast in thick ropes from all sides. It could step from side to side ever so slightly, but no more than that. The most movement came from its head thrashing around. The muscle growth had caused its clothes to tear, revealing faded, greyish skin.

"Holy shit!" Exclaimed Glass, the code name of the Scouse man, "hey Jen, you seeing this?"

The researcher squeezed between the group, looking like a child seeing snow for the first time. Her eyes lit up at the harrowing sight, which made some of the group exchange worrisome looks.