Last Dawn of a Horde

Prologue

Last Dawn of a Horde

Prologue

"Listen to me, General," Press Parker pleads the silence of the deranged general. The general only wanted to save the ones healthy, and to eradicate the infected using a way that the healthy ones aren't be affected. He's concerned about the world's population, wants it to be solved, but not in an idea like this.

"Sir," says the General. "We need to save those healthy ones. Go and salvage the live ones, not when they're already turned to man-eating cannibals."

"Sssshh!" says Parker. "Quiet, you. This plan of the army about solving the population is great--one need not to die that painful."

"Painful?" the General repeated in a higher tone. "The nuclear bombs are nothing to this plan."

Parker laughs as he serves himself a wine from his personal bar. "Nuclear bombs? The President never approved that option."

He stares at the TV, and he looked satisfied in what he's seeing.

The General wants to plague to be over, although no one of the army team that are responsible for the spread has devised a cure or an antidote.

"But he didn't know about this plan!" the General trills. "You made him look stupid, just to make yourself look powerful!"

Parker crushed his wine glass using his bare hands, and veins on his face were prominent and showing. 'Shut up!"

The General was not upset; he was doing a good job in angering the Secretary far above him in power. The Secretary gets angry so quick when somebody says how his plans or statements actually stinks.

"Where's the cure for it, huh? Tell me now or I'll order the bombing of your plant!" the General challenged the Defense Secretary.

Press Parker looked at his severed hand, and watched blood slowly dripping from his fresh wound. "Go try it, or the virus will go airborne. When one breathes, he'll get it for good," says Parker, taunting the General.

"You have no cure, I'm sure. Sooner or later, when this doesn't stop, you'll be creeping around the country like a rabid animal wanting flesh!"

Parker just smiled maniacally at him. "That's a good thing. Every one of us. You'll be infected soon, too. Your troops are nothing."

The General looked beleaguered. He trained his troop for almost half of his life, and it seemed like a predicament for him for someone to say his troop is nothing. "Say it back, or I'll tell the whole world how much of a stink, stupid, and evil of a demon you are!"

The Defense Secretary to the President wiped his hands clean of blood, and his white scarf turned into a nasty shade of dark red. "Before sueing me for my wonderful plan, haven't you asked me why I did this?"

"You're evil, that's all! You have no conscience! Shame on you, you psychotic lunatic!"

Press Parker laughed hard as he threw his bloodied scarf to the face of the General, who quickly jerked it away the instant the blood touched his face.

"I will be the god, the most powerful creature here on earth, the smartest demon ever lived! And everyone will cower before me!" Press Parker bellowed, and he withdrew a gun from his pocket. "Say goodbye to our infected planet, General."

Before he can even react, the General was shot right into his head, the bullet buried itself deep in the once-mighty General's eyes. Blood spurted out like a fountain, and Parker knew this was what the infected likes to stimulate their killer instincts on.

"Of course, I'll be fair to myself," says Parker to himself, as he aims the gun inside of his mouth.

A loud, deafening sound of a gunshot circled the place, and the infected outside sure heard it. Now they squealed like a hungry dog, ready to find where the sound came from, because probably it means flesh to them.

The infected was able to break the door of the Secretary's house, and when they found him and the General dead just moments ago, they feasted inside and two of the country's respected officials are no more.