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Raising Hell

     Above the sky of Wichita, Kansas, an entourage of sophisticated air power was taking flight. Three Dark Falcons, six old Black Hawks, and four Apache combat helicopters formed triangular flight patterns over the ruined city. Behind them, nine Air-scooters equipped with fifty-five caliber rounds, and four Jet-pods complete with long-range flame-throwers, were busy reeking havoc on a rundown part of the city.

    Below them, thousands of ghouls ran to and fro. Some were walkers, some were clickers, and some were runners; whatever the case, they were all very dangerous and blood hungry as ever. Siting in the passenger side seat of an old Black Hawk chopper, Vanguard watched as the U.S Military dealt their fiery blows against the undead mobs below. Vanguard was not with the army, instead, the CIA ordered him to sit in as an observer. He was after all, a well-respected member of the most powerful institution on the planet, namely – the Knight Templars. The CIA had recently taken on these ultra-violent monks as a substitute, representative militia in U.S borders.

     After the undead plague ripped apart civilization, people were forced to live in fragmented societies. The U.S still kept its basic government intact, but depended heavily on the military to keep the ever-pressing ghoul scourge at bay. To add more power to their efforts, they gave legal power for certain organizations to carry arms and raise armies of their own, as long as they operated as allied organization to the U.S. Among these new and powerful groups were the ‘Agent Priests’ of the Catholic sects, the ‘Knight Templars’, a religious and military cult, and the Red Cross, which basically evolved into a single division of compulsive healing fanatics that regular folk simply called ‘Scabs’.

     Scabs actually paid no allegiance to anyone, and much in the same vein as their Red Cross ancestors, this fanatical sect regularly set forth into the dangerous Dead-zones in search of survivors. They are a revered and misunderstood group. Apparently, the Red Cross literally bred and trained new inductees to live a life dedicated as combat medics. To specialize them further, the division employed no one over four and half feet tall, and put the pygmy healers through rigorous psychological and medical training. It’s not really known why these expert healers are stunted in size, but some say their short stature helps them to maneuver through the massive rubble of the dead zones and escape undead reanimates by scuttling through manmade foxholes. Whatever the case, they, like Vanguard’s own group, would soon find themselves at odds with the U.S army’s hectic war campaign.

      Currently, Vanguard’s attention was on the pilot seated next to him. Lieutenant Gray was a tall man with blonde hair cropped out in a new age military cut. He shouted orders to the other aircraft behind him like his life depended on it.

      "Jones – Jones, God damn it, where were you? I told you stay in restricted airspace. What the hell were you doing, flying over the ghouls with the biggest tits, or something?"

     A second later, a voice echoed in on his com-unit.

     "Sorry, sir – I took my flight team over the river to refuel, but we bagged about a hundred of those worm-heads back there!"

      "Alright, alright – that’s good for you, son. I’m glad to see we still got some real damn patriots here, but how’s it going with those firearms?"

     "Lieutenant, we got all hell fire missiles locked and loaded, sir. Where do you want to unload?"

     Pointing at a huge swarm of ghouls running rampant around an old barn, Gray gave an order to alienate.

     "Good God, soldier. Shit, boy, I thought I told you to flank those bastards on three O’ clock! Oh, well, fuck it now. Just shove those H Fs’ up their asses! Deploy all hell fires on six O’ clock – near the old barn!"

     Hearing the Lieutenant’s order, Vanguard tried to intervene.

     "Wait, that barn could be filled with survivors!"  Shouted the disheveled knight.

     "Yeah - well, it could also be filled with flesh-eating faggots, too. …Or maybe Jim Morrison is in there taking a shit! …Listen, man – I got orders and I’m aiming to fill them. You were only sent here to observe, so just bud out of the action and…observe!

     "Sir?" Replied the flight leader, awaiting the Lieutenant’s order.

     "Blow em’ all to hell, Jones – blow em’ all to hell!"

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