Pathogen

Stranded

                                                                                                III

    I fell into the hot sand.  In a burst of adrenalin I unsheathed my gun and fired before he could.  He fell and became a lifeless lump.  A sore pain encompassed the area of my ribs.  I got up and walked toward the truck.  The next thing I knew I heard a weak voice say " If I'm going down, your comin with me!"  The car exploded and I fell back once more.  I assumed it was a grenade but I never knew for sure.  Looks like I'm walking.

    2 Days Later

    The world is spinning.  My senses are deceiving me; I've been hearing gunfire in the distance, but how is this possible?  I'm in the middle of nowhere.  Then I saw flashes of light.  Maybe there was gunfire.  Before I could decide, a security guard ran to me and then I woke up in the base's infirmary.  I could still feel my arm.  But it wasn't there!  A small stub remained.  I screamed in horror for about 5 minutes until a man with a surgeon's mask injected a needle into my neck.  It all went dark again.  This time I awoke with Jameson by my side.  "You did good, kid.  We thought we lost you.  You've been bit, so we had to remove your arm to avoid spreading the infection.  We have a piece of tech from ground zero.  Try it on."  He handed me a robotic arm.  "What the hell?"  "Pretty cool, right?"  "I thought that prosthetic robotics only existed in Robocop!"  "Where do you think they got the idea for Robocop?"

     He held out the arm.  There was a complex series of needles on the side that attached to my arm.  "Don't worry; it's kinda like acupuncture.... but it hurts a hell of a lot more!"  Jameson jabbed it into my arm.  "Ahhhhh!  Why does it hurt so much?!"  "It's attaching to your nervous system."  Then the pain stopped and I could feel my arm, as if it was there.  "How..."  "It's called phantom limb syndrome: your arm isn't there, but your brain thinks so.  And if your brain thinks so, so does your nervous system.  Try drinking this glass of water."  My new hand shook and before I knew it, there was shattered glass spread across the floor.  "You'll get the hang of it, kid."

    Within a month's time I forgot I had ever lost my arm.  Things were going great with a grave dweller here and there.  However, they were the least of our worries.  A terrorist group formed called the Reapers.  They went around dismantling civilization after civilization for one reason; death.  They believed that since the world was plunged into anarchy it was supposed to end a long time ago.  So now they go around enforcing their sick justice.  They believe in no restraints, so whatever they kill - anything they kill - they will eat because supposedly it has no meaning, for the end of days has passed.

     A couple months back a squad on perimeter petrol disappeared.  We wished that whatever happened, they were dead.  This may sound cold, but I assure you it is for the better.  They either joined the Reapers or were off somewhere being tortured.  But we could never have expected what really happened.