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The papers had been spread out before him for days now. The reports were all the same, the dead were rising and they had a hunger for flesh. How the hell was he supposed to deal with this? He had been holed up inside the White House compound for close to a week and he was very close to the breaking point.

Security was strong enough to keep out a would be assassin, but it was not made to handle the constant onslaught of the walking dead. The gates were almost to the point of collapse, and the number of bullets were dwindling. Looters stopped coming around after a couple of days but they were never really any danger. His men were trained to kill without emotions but even the strain of the dead seemed to drive them to the edge.

Even now he could see his secret service agents ready to jump ship. What could he do about it? He was the captain and he had to go down with the sinking ship. As tears welled up in his eyes he wished for a miracle to save himself and the country, a miracle that would be swift and effective. As he drifted into a fantasy land he was jerked awake by shouting and gunfire.

“Sir, we need to get you out of here they have broken through our barriers.” The Secretary of Defense spoke in a total business tone, the President envied him and hated him for his ability to mask his emotions.

The President took one last look out the window. The east green was speckled with shambling figures. In the distance he could see the fence knocked down. Steel, after a week those bastards knocked the steel fence down like it was made of plastic. The realization of their numbers almost made him collapse in anguish, that was when he felt the strong hand on his shoulder.

“Sir, I know what you are feeling. We need to get to the tunnels, your survival is of the greatest importance.” The President saw a tear forming in the corner of the Secretaries eyes. Again the Secretary of Defense sounded strong, but at least now he knew that the man had emotions working inside him.

Even after all that happened protocol was being followed. He knew that his home for the rest of eternity was going to be Mount Rushmore, amazing that his life will end in a tomb when the dead would be able to walk the earth. He seriously wondered if his men would be capable of shooting him when he finally died. The thought made his body shudder with fear.

The tunnels under the White house were filled with his staff. It was a two mile walk to the base where the planes were waiting. The President looked into the faces of his staff, he saw a mixture of contempt, fear, and pride. They were preparing for the departure of the President. Two planes were waiting to take the staff out. Air Force One was only carrying the President and his cabinet. As the President was ushered into the plane he saw the fences falling. It was really coming to an end.

As the huge engines warmed up the President did not see the mass of zombies attacking the second plane. The runway was becoming a battleground around them. Most of his staff ran through the tunnels to escape the onslaught. Several people made it into the second plane but could not get the door closed in time. Over fifty of the President’s faithful had become a statistic. As blood flowed onto the runway Air Force One left the ground flying off into the clouds.

Inside the plane light music played, giving it the sense that nothing was wrong. As he looked about him all he could think was what an awful waste of space. He took a sip of bourbon, it warmed his body and seemed to bring him back to the world he was living in.

“Jim.” The President spoke lightly. “Did the other plane get out? Ask the captain.”

A white phone on the wall was picked up. The President could tell by the expression on Jim’s face the answer. Tears welled up in his eyes. He knew that the end was near. He thought of his daughter, and wife. They were at Camp David when the shit hit the fan. They were supposed to be en route to Rushmore, but contact had been lost. Even with the thoughts of his family he still only thought of his own well being.

What was happening to him? He was feeling so many things at once. He sagged down in his chair and slowly drifted off into sleep. At least he knew he was safe in the air. Those damn ghouls could not get up here. As he slept he dreamt of his wife’s naked body laid out before him. As his eyes enveloped her body a gunshot sounded, bringing him out of his sleep. He saw several men rushing to the cockpit.

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