Call of Duty Zombies: The Story

Prologue

Prologue

"Zombie Apocalypse"

10th December 1963

Samuel Stuhlinger

Green Run

Washington, USA

As the decrepit cream coloured bus trundled through the barren, fiery wasteland once known as America, zombie groans and hisses could be heard, catching up with each second that passed. Blue glowing eyes shone like torches in the darkness through the bus's back window. A flash of lightning illuminated the cracked road they were following, littered with potholes where the undead had emerged. The bus suddenly heated as it struggled to drive over a large pool of lava yet the zombies following were relentless and continued sprinting although their clothes and dead flesh were alight.

Inside the bus, all the windows, smashed long ago, were boarded up and there were no seats just a few green cushions. The four survivors occupying the bus glanced furiously at the driver, whose blue glowing eyes were looking at the road ahead. His blue bus driver's uniform was in rags while his cap was intact. His cracked teeth matched the state of his clothes also. His right arm had been completely torn away while the remains of his left arm hung limply at his side. Quickly he glanced back at his beloved bus and the survivors got a glimpse of his dirt covered brass skull and torso as he was in fact a robot called T.E.D.D.

"Can't we make metal brains go any faster?" Abigail Briarton, known to everyone as Misty, moaned.

"Well we can see if knifing him does anything!" I brought my knife out and stabbed at the metallic skull, creating yet another dent in the scarred head.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Marlton Johnson shouted. "His GPS unit is stored in his head; if you damage that he could lose satellite communication and won't be able know his position. Do you want us to be stuck here?"

As in agreement the robot spun around at me and his eyes flashed red while his automated voice somehow held some anger. "Keep doing that. See if I don't crash this bus and kill you all." Just as quickly as he spun around at me he spun back to face the steering wheel.

Russman gasped as zombies jumped and hung onto the sides of the bus, powerful arms pulling the barriers away. Their piercing blue eyes, threateningly dangerous were staring right at us as they made intelligible rasping sounds. "Looks like we've got company!"

Without another word we burst into action, raising our weapons and shooting the zombies. There was a zombie on almost all the empty windows, pulling the wooden barriers away that blocked them from coming straight into the bus. Directly in front of me a zombie roared. Quickly, I aimed my AK-47u at its head. With a short burst of bullets its head exploded but to my disbelief the headless zombie continued to pull away the barriers. The sight shook me but I soon pulled out at my knife and after its chest had been stabbed the zombie lost its grip and fell off the wall of the bus. Behind me, I heard a deep growl. I spun around and found myself face to face with a zombie who had managed to climb onto the bus. Again, another burst of my sub-machine gun brought the zombie's head to the floor but this time the zombie fell down immediately after. I glanced at my allies at my sides; they were fighting the zombies off the bus just as intensely as me.

Marlton shot down zombie after zombie with his double barrel Olympia shotgun, retreating slightly as he reloaded. He cautiously glanced up, through his glasses, at the terrible sight of the zombies as he did so. Misty expertly shot down the zombies with a pistol in each hand; reloading one as she shot at zombies with the other. Russman desperately used an MP5, spraying at every zombie in sight.

Inaudible under the constant zombie screams and gunfire, the faulty T.E.D.D. made an announcement. "We are now arriving at the North Pole"

Presently, the bus' horn sounded, signalling the approach of a bus stop. We furiously fought off the zombies but the situation was rapidly hurtling out of control. All the barriers were ripped off and we were forced against the front of the bus. The masses of zombies hanging on the sides off the bus flooded in and our ever shortening supply of bullets was the only thing keeping them back. I pulled the pin off a grenade and I threw it to the back of the bus. The explosion blew about dozen of the zombies' legs off by they still dragged their ripped bodies to us, immune to pain. The other three covered me as I reloaded yet again. Then, when I finished putting the new magazine into my AK-47u the voice spoke to me again. It came from all directions at once. It felt distant yet near and although it was quiet it dimmed out all the other noise, focusing me on it alone.

"Get out of the bus, now!"

My normal hearing resumed and I felt the bus shake violently beneath my feet as the breaks hissed and we came to a sudden halt. "We need to get out of the bus!" I screamed. Masses of zombies were converging right outside the doors while others stumbled down the bus. Dozens of icy blue eyes glared at me through the doors' windows. The other survivors behind me had turned to the doors, still holding off the zombies running down the length of the bus. I took a deep breath as I prepared myself. Then punching the door button there was a sudden hiss and the door slid back. Screaming insanely we blasted through the hordes of zombies.

I tried and remembered how the world used to be, but it got harder with every day that passed. So many experiences of the undead; so many faces of death. But one thing remained constant; whatever we did to stop the zombies, it was never enough. We lost more often than we won and people kept dying anxd coming back as zombies. When everything is taken from you, you only fight because you don't have anything to lose and you believe there is hope that there is a chance you can bring your old life back. Remembering the way things were, used to give me hope, but the truth is; I am now starting to lose faith. With every zombie kill another one always stands in its place and a statement is always burning in the back of my mind. We couldn't survive like this forever.

It had been almost six months since the world as we knew it ended. Six months before the missiles descended from the moon. Six months before zombies infected the world. Apart from small bands of survivors like us the population of America, probably the entire world, was either dead or a zombie. What everything used to be like is overshadowed by the day that hell was unleashed on Earth. Every day I woke up to another nightmare and his voice.

The voice the others can't hear... I haven't found a lot about him apart from that he was called Richtofen. Sometimes I talked to him; the others thought I was going insane. Maybe I was but in a world like that it is difficult to tell. But there was always one question I asked myself; what caused the world to become like this?

To answer that you have to go back to the Second World War . . .