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Note from author: Just a tiny touch of dark humor permeates this tale of zombie horror. Caught between the White House and an impoverished ghetto, a suicidal, specialist team of National Guardsmen chooses to stay and fight long enough for a presidential scientist to evacuate the capitol. Using an arsenal of high-tech weapons and the fanatic beliefs of the Knight Templars, the National Guard division raises all hell as they fight off a chaotic, undead mob in what the military has dubbed the 2^nd Civil War; a war between Americans, both dead and alive!

"I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: "O Lord, make my enemies ridiculous...and God granted it."

- Voltaire: Courtesy of Marie, thanks

"Nooooo!"

"No, not again!"

In the morning slump, Russ woke up from a very weird nightmare. After showering, he called his closest friend and decided to discus the odd vision before getting to work.

"I’m telling you, my brotha’ -- I had a trippy dream, and in that dream I was a reluctant king. I stood in front of a palace and beside me, stood a familiar, lean woman with an automatic rifle in hand. Behind me, I saw -- well, like all the forefathers and shit. You know, Ben Franklin, George Washington, and those types. Dude, it was a fucking trip. A small group of misfits cheered us on, but as soon as the cheering began, I woke up. That’s some weird shit, ain’t it?"

That was the odd confession from a part-time military man who talked openly to his old friend, Pepper. The conversation was unrushed and steady, but his agent began to hurry Russ, the man who had the dream. Russ slept over in the studio last night, as he had to get up fairly early for rehearsal. But now, time had passed and it was time to start the show. His agent, Fred, began counting down the seconds behind Russ’s dressing room.

"Three, two one; that’s it, Russ…it’s Dinomite time!"

Later that afternoon

"My fellow Americans…"

"This nation is under a dark cloud, but despite the ruin and despair, we must adhere to a saying that has always brought us sensibility. I say to you, that all we have to fear is fear itself! We will arise from these dark times and we will rebuild and live our lives raising our children in another safe dawn. These atrocities will end…so please, bear with me and God speed our delivery from this evil. …God bless you all -- and God bless America!"

That was the nationally, broadcasted message from the President of the United States and it rang out with a haunting sense of oblivion. Colonel Mace had heard it along with anyone else that tuned in to television or radio. The entire nation was in the grip of a maniacal epidemic, but despite the forlorn circumstances, Colonel Mace needed to get his men ready for war. He had instructions to bring his team of National Guardsmen to protect an important, state scientist held up at Capital Hill, and he’d do so even if he had to battle straight to the White House lawn. He wouldn’t be alone in his endeavor; he was told to bring the most volatile platoon he knew of and Mace knew just the unit to send for.

The unit in mind was a team of weapons experts called Bravo team X. BTX as the unit was called, had gone under very lethal training and had experience in urban warfare. Having fought in Afghanistan and the Gulf War, BTX was especially skilled at infiltration and protection. What made Bravo team X so battle-hardened was its strange union with a religious cult called the Knights Templar. The Knights Templar had originally been Crusaders from the Dark Ages that had marched toward the Middle East over a thousand years ago to recapture the Holy Lands.

Today, however, they exist as a seedy cult that although had strong reverence for the Christian ideology, had been notoriously known as a rowdy, drinking, cursing, and insidiously, violent bunch. The cult now expanding into the thousands worldwide had a few members in the armed forces and these factions had teamed up on more than one occasion during wartime affairs. In BTX’s case, the unit was fighting the minions of Osama Bin Laden in the Middle East, which considered themselves to be the re-born heirs of the "Jihad" enemy to the ancient Crusaders. In response, BTX became the manifestation of the Knights Templar Crusaders of old, yet now, warred against Jihad practitioners in modern times. However, BTX was far from prejudice as their own team consisted of quite a few Middle-Eastern members itself. This eclectic mix of pitched, urban, and religious ideals along with stern, military training had made BTX the most suicidal and maniacally, offensive platoon in recent history.

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