They move pretty quickly, considering they're dead.

"Blood-sucking bastards," the Captain growls, shouldering his assault rifle.

The gun barks three times. The sound that follows shortly after can only be best described as a watermelon being smashed by a baseball bat.

The Captain lowers his rifle and smiles proudly. Even after all that we've gone through, he still manages to find joy in the simple things.

"Took off the top half of his head," he muses.

 I look out at the acres of field in front of us. It's an old cornfield which looks like it had been barren for years. Peppered throughout are the lifeless masses of once-humans covered in an eerie blue shroud from the full moon above. I look up at the moon; I've never seen it so big before. It reminds me of a scene from one of those old school Vampire movies. Except our Vampires aren't wearing fancy capes and don't turn into flying rats at will. God, if only.

"You get through to the Eyes yet?" the Captain asks, taking a seat.

Twitch looks up from the battered radio. "N-n-not yet sir," he stammers. "There hasn't been any activity for hours now."

William Rogan is a scrawny kid, no more than 110 pounds I'd say. He's got blood-red hair and skin as white as an albino's ass. We call him Twitch because he does. His doc told him it's a brain disorder. He calls it nerves. I call it damn annoying.

It was a series of unfortunate circumstances that got him stuck with us. The last place this kid wanted to be was out in the fields with the Hands. He was fresh out of high school when the Brain recruited him for their Intelligence Program. He was used to the safe confines of HQ...big comfy desks, white walls, the gentle hum of running computers. That's where he reigned supreme, not out here, not with us.

"Damn," the Captain growls. "Don't tell me we're blind as well as immobile."

It was four hours ago that our Legs were taken out by Red Creek Bridge, about thirty miles out. We were ambushed by a group of Vamps, probably ten to twenty of them I'd say. Not a very large force, but their increased strength and agility makes up for a lack of numbers. The bastards were able to take out two armored vehicles. It took everything we had to get out of there with our SatCom, the battered radio, the Signature, and not to mention our lives.

"It's probably because of that damn radio...it looks older than my grandpa," Gallaway says, taking a swig of his whiskey.

He was right. The radio looked like it was a leftover from World War II. It was never supposed to be used, a standard issue for all Hands units and a last resort if all other communication failed. Unfortunately for us, we used the last of the battery power on the SatCom to download crucial files back to HQ. The Captain said it was worth it; he said what we found would turn the tide of the war. That doesn't do us much good right now though.

"Well, it's all we got," the Captain says. "When we get back to HQ I'll make sure to file a complaint and get us some better equipment."

Only he and Gallaway snicker at the remark. A part of me knows what is humorous; the rest of me doesn't want to.

"Enemy contact, 900 yards," Ace calls out. He chambers a new round and falls silent.

David "Ace" Bennett, one of the best sharpshooters ever to join the Hands. He is just as scrawny as Twitch, except he is real tall and lanky. When he stands up he looks damn awkward. Positioned behind his rifle though, there is no awkwardness about him.

He takes a deep breath, whispers something to himself, and squeezes the trigger. We all look out in the distance and watch as the barely visible figure jerks violently and crumbles to the ground.

"Nice shot," the Captain says, clapping his hands together.

Ace breaths deeply. "Thank you, sir." He says as he picks up his bible and returns to his reading.

He was one of those annoying religious kind of guys, quoting Bible verses and talking about God's Will all the time. I guess they got him out of some dump town in Missouri right in the middle of the Bible Belt. He said he wanted to be a Minister before he got recruited by the Hands. I have to admit, I can't picture a shot like him preaching God to a bunch of Baptists. But hell, I've seen crazier things.

"Sir," Twitch squeaks nervously. "I got a hold of the Wings, sir."

"About damn time," the Captain sighs. "When can they pick us up?"

Twitch jams the earphone into his ear as he tries to listen to the crackling voice on the other end. Somehow, his face turns even whiter as he pulls the earphone away.

"What?" the Captain asks.

"At their present distance, they'll be here in two hours."

A pensive silence falls among the rest of us. We had all seen twenty of our friends get slaughtered only hours ago. We know that it is only time until those bloodsuckers will be coming for us. We all know that it will take them less than two hours to finish the job they started. We all know.

"When is sun-up?" The Captain asks.

I look down at my watch hoping that the answer is good. "Three hours, give or take," I say, realizing that it isn't.

The Captain says nothing. There is no emotion in his face. He remains frozen in his stance, like one of those statues erected for great heroes. The contemplative leader, planning out his next move.

"Give me a weapons count," he finally says.

"Assault rifle ammo is at about 500 rounds," Gallaway says.

"I got about sixteen more rounds for my rifle," Ace says.

"We've got two claymore mines and one UV Flashbomb left," I say, holding the grapefruit sized glass orb in my hand.

"That it?" the Captain asks.

We all nod in unison.

"Two hours," he sighs, staring out at the expansive field that lay ahead of us. "I don't think our dinner guests are gonna wait that long."

***

My older brother Tommy and I used to watch those old black and white horror movies every weekend when I was younger. My mom always told him not to let me see them, because it would give me nightmares. I told her that they wouldn't, even though they did.

I still remember how Vampires were portrayed as smooth talking foreigners in fine suits and capes. I remember how they couldn't come into your home unless invited, were extremely allergic to garlic, and were terrified of crosses. Sadly, the truth is nothing like the movies.

Vamps don't wear nice suits or speak in suave accents. They don't mind garlic, they're not afraid of crosses, and they certainly don't wait for invitations to be let into your house.

They're just mindless killers. Machines programmed to do only one thing. Eat.

We were taught in training that once the Vampirical Mutagen enters the brain, it basically shuts it down like you would a computer. Seconds to minutes later, it reboots it, with only one program.

Once the mind has been rebooted, the body gets a number of...upgrades, for lack of a better word. Muscle strength is increased, along with stamina and agility. Vision is enhanced and so is hearing and smelling. Essentially, they're the perfect predator.

The only upside of Vamps not being like their movie counterparts is that they're a lot easier to kill in real life. You don't need to stab a wooden stake through their heart. All you need is a fresh clip and accuracy. One shot to the brain will bring the beast down instantly.

The movies did get one thing right though, the bastards are extremely photosensitive to UV rays. They even catch a glimpse of one, t, ,,    heir skin will fry like bacon. This is the reason why we carry around those UV Flashbombs. When detonated they release a burst of UV rays comparable to that of a sunny day for about three seconds with a radius of thirty feet. They won't always kill a Vamp, but they definitely slow the bastards down.

***

The first half hour of our wait went relatively uneventful. We set up the two claymore mines about 500 yards out and attached trip wires to them. It would only be enough fire power to take down a small group of them, but we were hoping that if we had visitors that there would be even less of them than that.

Ace was able to take out two more Vamps, each at about 800 yards away. We congratulated him on his shooting and continued on in our wait for help.

Twitch kept loyal to his station behind the radio, never pulling the earphone away from his head. Gallaway was busy gnawing away at a piece of wood with his knife. The Captain and I tried to play crazy eights, but it was hard to stay focused on the game, especially with Ace preaching a sermon on the other side of the roof.

He kept on reciting passages from the Bible. Most of them I didn't understand. But, there was one in particular that shook the laces right off my boots. I think he said it was in Corinthians or something like that.

"I declare to you, brothers, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the Kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Listen, I tell you a mystery. We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed."

Now, I'm no Bible expert. Hell, I've never read the thing once. But to me it sounded damn ominous.

"I don't see why we can't just make a run for it," Gallaway says, tossing his wood carving off the side of the roof.

The Captain scoffs.

"It'd be suicide," I reply, sliding the deck of cards back into my pack. "Simple as that."

"Oh, and sitting on the roof of an old abandoned house isn't?"

I fight the urge to elbow him in the face.

"Gallaway, you wanna take your chances out there, be my guest," the Captain says. "But take a look around first. Behind you, you have miles of forest. To the left, you have more forest. To the right, guess what, more forest! The only place without forest is that way!" The Captain points out towards the field in front of us, where the enemy is waiting in the shadows.

After the ambush, we were able to hotwire an old Ford and took off down some old country roads. We drove as fast and as far as we could until the old clunker gave out on us. We hoofed it as far as we could after that, until the forest cut us off. Captain called it, Nature's Giant Roadblock. Ace called it God's Will. I called it bad fucking luck. That's how we ended up here though, cornered at the edge of God's Giant Roadblock, on the roof of an old abandoned house.

"We'd probably have better luck in the forest anyhow," Gallaway snaps.

Jacob Gallaway, one of the best soldiers you'll ever meet and not to mention one of the most stubborn son of a bitches you'll ever meet. He grew up in one of those military families, which means he spent most of his youth moving from army base to army base. Both of his older brothers were war heroes, I,, hear. Both came home in boxes with Medals of Honor pinned to their chests too. His parents looked to him to live up to the same standards. A lot of pressure if you ask me.           

"Are you serious?" Ace asks. "In the woods we lose our visual advantage. Not to mention those bloodsuckers run twice as fast as us. If they're lurking in there, we're as good as dead."

"Don't you see it," Gallaway fires back. "We're already as good as dead!"

"Shut your mouth," I growl. I know what he's saying is true, yet I can't help but feel boiling hot rage inside my chest.

"Fuck you, Edmonds," Gallaway says, standing up.

Before I can even tell them to, my legs stand me up, putting me face to face with him. "I've had just about enough of your bullshit, Gallaway."

"Quit this shit! Both of you," the Captain says, stepping between us. "Why the hell you wanna kill each other when there are hundreds of bloodsuckers out there who want to do it for you?"

Good point.

"Sorry sir," I say, taking my seat.

Gallaway remains standing, staring belligerently at the Captain.

"You got something to say soldier?" the Captain asks, stepping closer to him.

"I ain't waiting around to die anymore," Gallaway says. "I'm out."

With that, he turns towards the make-shift hole in the roof and climbs down the ladder. We all listen as he makes his way through the house and out the front door.

"You're making a big mistake!" I yell out to him.

He flips me the bird and keeps moving, never looking back.

What an asshole.

***

I was ten years old the first time I saw a Vamp. Not one of those movie Vamps...a real one.

My brother and I were out back by the old creek. We were trying to catch Crawfish. My brother loved catching them for some reason. I never found it particularly interesting, but I would've done anything to spend time with him.

I wanted to be just like him, in every way. He was athletic, smart, and good looking. Hell, I remember he used to have a new girlfriend every week. It must've been that shaggy hair or that cleft chin he had going, because I know it wasn't those big-ass ears he had. I always used to tease him about them. It was his one and only flaw.

Just as the sun was about to set, Tommy was finally satisfied enough to go home. When we were getting ready to leave we saw him, or it. It was just standing there across the creek, staring at us with this blank, lifeless stare.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked, hiding behind my brother.

"I don't know," my brother said. "Sir, are you alright?"

It didn't say anything, it just stood there. Coagulated blood covering most of its body which was shaking with uncontrollable tremors. Its skin was blistered and burnt.

"Arthur, get out of here," Tommy said, picking up a stick.

It let out a inhuman hiss as it crouched into a pouncing position, like an animal ready to attack.

"No, I'm staying with you," I said to him.

He pushed me away, knocking the bucket of crawfish over. "I said, get out of here!"

The last thing I remember seeing before I topped the hill is Tommy gripping the large stick like a baseball bat. He was a great baseball player. Dad always said he would've gone pro.

***

After another forty-five minutes passed, there was a hesitant enthusiasm among the remaining three of us. I wanted to sit back and relax. I wanted to just lie down and let the days of sleep deprivation take me into a week long slumber. Yet, the soldier in me knew better. The soldier in me told me not to let my guard down, not to let myself get distracted. So, I fought the urges and stiffened my back and placed my assault rifle at the ready.

"Sir," Twitch calls. "The Wings are still en route and they say they'll be at our location in less than an hour."

I could almost see the weight being lifted off the Captain's shoulders.

"About time something started going right," the Captain says, fighting away a smile. "Hell, we may just get a chance to go out and get a beer after this."

Captain Keane, he's the kind of guy who can be a real hard-ass and at the same time he'll be your best friend. I think fatherhood did that to him more so than being in the Hands. He always talks about his three daughters and how being a father is harder than killing Vamps. Just makes me lucky I don't have kids.

Suddenly, off in the distance we hear a series of gunshots. Not the controlled bursts we're taught in training, more sporadic and uncontrolled. It sounded like whoever was shooting is either extremely unqualified to handle a gun or was caught off guard. Either way, it isn't good for us.

"Gallaway," the Captain sighs.

The sound that follows tears through me like Vamp fangs. Gallaway's blood curdling scream echoes across the field. All of us cringe as his scream dies away and is replaced by silence.

"This isn't g-g-good," Twitch stammers.

He's right. It's not.

***

I made it all the way to the front porch of the house when I heard my brother's scream for help. I stopped where I was and fell to my knees. I just knelt there, crying. I don't know how long I was kneeling there before my dad finally found me.

He asked me what was wrong, but I couldn't get the words out of my mouth. They clung inside my throat, choking me. All I could do was motion towards the creek. He picked me up and ran me into the house. I remember my mother was screaming at the top of her lungs, asking where Tommy was. My dad placed me on the living room sofa and took my head in his hands.

"Where is your brother?" he asked me calmly.

I don't know why I said what I did, maybe because of my innocence or lack of vocabulary, but all I could spill out was the word, "monster."

My father kissed my forehead and walked to the hallway closet. I knew there was only one thing in that closet and knowing that made me wince.

"Why are you going into the gun safe?" My mother asked, grabbing a hold of his shirt.

He struggled to put in the combination as my mother tugged on him relentlessly.

"Take Arthur somewhere else Delilah," he said, pulling out his old hunting rifle.

"Jonathan, what are you doing?!" she cried, as he began to load it.

"Damn it Delilah, I said take him somewhere else!"

I remember hearing howls from outside. Not dog howls, no, they were more human-like. I got up from the couch, walked to the window, and pulled back the blinds.

There were two figures wondering around our front yard.

"Dad," I said.

He looked at me and then out the front door.

"Oh God," my mother cried, collapsing into the wall.

I looked back at the two figures which now were moving around in the lighted part of the yard. I recognized the one figure as the man I had seen at the creek. The other figure kept its back to me.

"Arthur, go to your room," my dad said as he opened the front door and shut it behind him.

As the door slammed shut the second figure twirled around, finally revealing its face. I couldn't help but collapse as the image repeated over and over again in my head. The face, I remembered that face so well, yet, there was something so different about it. Whether it was the blood that covered it, or the soulless eyes, or the white fangs that protruded from its mouth. With all those things I could still see his long shaggy hair, his cleft chin, and those big protruding ears.

My dad yelled something that I couldn't make out and I could hear the beasts howling again. Suddenly, my world echoed with the sound of two gunshots, back to back. Then nothingness. Emptiness.

The last thing I remember is waking up to my father taking me into his arms and walking me up the stairs to my bedroom. Tears poured down his face and fell onto mine as he laid me in bed, kissed me on the forehead, and closed the door behind him.

***

"I'm estimating at least, 200 contacts, sir," Ace says from behind his scope.

I pull my binoculars from my pack and zoom in on the charging force that is steadily bearing down on us. It looks like Ace was spot on with his estimation. Hundreds of blood thirsty, rabid faced Vamps are speeding toward us.

"Alright men," the Captain says, turning his back towards the advancing army. "You know me. You know I don't bullshit. We don't hold a chance in hell of making it out of this. So, I'm giving you your options now."

The three of us all exchange glances with one another. Options?

"You can cut and run, and by God I won't blame you for doing it. You can try to hide, and again I won't blame ya. Hell, you can even end the show right now by pulling the trigger on yourself. The choice is yours."

Personally, I don't find any of the options that appealing.

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me," Ace says, chambering a new round.

"I'll take that as you're staying," the Captain grins.

"I-I-I'll stay," Twitch says.

"Edmonds?"

The memory of my father crying fires across my mind. I think about that day at the creek. I think about the creature stalking along my yard like some diseased animal. I think about my mother screaming from the front porch. I think about the anger I've bottled up for years. The hatred. They killed my brother. Now. Now, it was time to repay them in full.

"I've got a personal grudge to settle sir. If that's alright with you," I say, tightening my grip on my rifle.

The Captain nods.

"Well boys," he says.  "We're already heroes today. Our names will be remembered and well, hell, that's something to celebrate."

Off in the distance we hear the two claymore mines fire. A series of pain filled screeches follow shortly after. We all look out towards the large plume of smoke and dust and watch as the bloodsuckers leap over their fallen companions and bear down upon us.

The Captain inserts a fresh clip into his rifle, turns toward us and smiles. "It looks like our dinner guests are here to celebrate with us, so let's not keep them waiting any longer."

***

It was the worst day of my life. All the hugging and kissing from people, thinking that squeezing me and covering me in lipstick would make the pain subside. All of their well wishes and sympathies, empty and hollow words. I wanted to leave, but I knew the minute I got home I would see the old creek, the still-stained front porch, and his empty bedroom.

People went up to talk about him, most of them I didn't even know. One was supposedly his baseball coach. He went on and on about how great of a team player Tommy was and how he would've gone on to the best college and been drafted by the best baseball team. The more that son of a bitch talked the more I hated him.

Then there was a girl, I guess she was Tommy's girlfriend or one of them at least. She only managed to get out a few words before breaking into an unstoppable frenzy of tears. A bunch of her annoying friends came up and walked her back to her seat. Dumb bitch.

By the time it was all over I was emotionally drained. All I wanted to do was collapse somewhere and sleep until my world went back to normal. But, just when I thought the day couldn't get any worse, we left the funeral home to find a huge crowd of reporters.

Now that I think back, they were a lot like Vamps. Relentless, hunger driven monsters completely devoid of human emotions, seeking to suck out the last of our souls.

I guess news traveled quickly about how Tommy died and apparently a woman two counties over had died from the same circumstances a few weeks back. That made him the third reported victim in our state. In the end it would turn out that Tommy was the 50th victim of the so-called "disease" in the entire nation.

He was all over the front page of the local papers for years. Every time a new victim was found, his picture would be staring up at us. It was a picture of him and my dad down by the creek. It was the last picture we ever had of him.

The news stations weren't any better. They would continually flash his picture along with the other victims across the screen with the words, Victims of the Epidemic.

They called it an epidemic. A Rabies-like disease, people were saying. They had doctors come on t.v. trying to describe it, assholes acting like they knew what the hell they were talking about. They never saw what happened to people who were infected. I did. I saw it first hand. I knew it wasn't rabies, I knew it was something more. I knew it was something worse. Way worse.

***

Trying to stop the charging force of Vamps is like trying to stop a train with a slingshot. Just as useless and doubly frustrating. For every bloodsucker we take down, it feels like two more take its place.

After emptying out two entire clips, the giant wave crashes up against the old farmhouse with the force of a locomotive. The whole house shifts on its foundation, forcing me to loose my footing. As I slip the UV Flashbomb slides out of my bag and starts to roll down the incline of the roof.

"Shit!" I yell instinctively, diving down the roof of the house like I was sliding into home. I reach the bomb just as it hits the gutter and goes airborne. As I hang precariously over the side of the old farmhouse I look down and see a mosh pit of hungry faces staring back up at me. Like a bunch of angry dogs they howl with hunger and begin to claw their way up the siding.

"Good save," the Captain says, reloading his rifle. "But how about you quit playing around?"

I get back up onto my feet and pull the detonation cap off the bomb. "Sunglasses on!" I yell out as I press the flashing blue button and drop the bomb off the side of the house. I slam my face into the crook of my arm and shut my eyes. The air explodes in a loud crackling snap followed by a brilliant blue light that is so bright I can still see it through my eyelids.

The world suddenly goes alarmingly quiet. I unveil my eyes and struggle to look past the flashing blue dots that blind my vision. I look around as the rest of them all rub their eyes ferociously, obviously struggling to rid themselves of the same annoying blue dots.

"Next time," Ace says. "Give us more of a warning."

"How rude of me," I scoff, picking up my rifle.

"This still ain't over boys," the Captain says, looking out over the edge of the house.

He was unfortunately right.

It looked like the Flashbomb had only put a small knick in their force. A few of the blood suckers that were up front were now wriggling around on the ground as their skin bubbled and fizzed. Some of the ones behind them were stumbling around, obviously blinded by the light show...but still dangerous. Meanwhile, the rest who were unfazed by the bomb were now climbing and pushing their way through the mess of victims and closer toward us.

Just when I think things couldn't possibly get worse, I shoulder my rifle, squeeze the trigger, and hear the unsettling empty click in the barrel.

"Son of a bitch."

Before I can even reach into my pack, I see a Vamp leap up onto the right side of the roof with the grace of a blinded monkey. The remains of its left arm dangle uselessly at its side. Its entire body and tattered clothing are covered in coagulated blood.  The only part that isn't covered in blood is its shiny white teeth, which I assume won't stay white for very long.

 I don't even get a chance to warn the others before the beast knocks me off my feet and sends me spinning head over heels in the air. I come crashing to the roof with a loud thud and feel a sharp, shooting pain in my right leg. I assume it was fractured in my haphazard gymnastics, but when I look to investigate it, I find the startling truth.

The beast has already started to feed on me. It's latched on like a leech, and I can feel the blood being drained from my leg. I yell out for help as blinding pain shoots through my entire body.

The Captain's rifle barks twice in reply to my plea. The head explodes like a meat filled piñata, splattering my face with blood. I push the beast off my leg and see the face, or what was left of it.

"Gallaway," I say, panting in agony. "You asshole."

The Captain kneels down beside me. He combs his hand through his sweat slicked hair as he assesses my wound.

"I think it's time to sign the deal," he finally says calmly.

"What?"

"It's over," he says, looking out at the forest.

"Are you sure, sir?"

He doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to.

"Yes, sir," I say, struggling to get to my feet.

I look over at Ace. He abandoned his sniper rifle and is now behind an assault rifle. I can tell it is foreign to him, yet, nothing is lost in his aim. He stops firing to reload his weapon.

We make eye contact for a brief second. He gives me a simple nod, before returning his attention to the enemy that was now clawing their way further and further up the walls.

"We never did get that beer" the Captain says between gunshots.

"Maybe we can meet up after this," I say, saluting one final time.

"Sounds like a plan," he turns toward me and returns my salute.

I can feel the Mutagen spreading up my leg. It feels as though someone is pouring searing water into my veins. With every step I take, liquid hot pain shoots through my entire leg.

I'm able to make it to the hole, somehow, and slowly begin to climb my way down the ladder. As I get halfway down, a spell of vertigo rushes over me and I lose my footing. I crash hard on the wood flooring below.

"Ouch," I grumble, pulling myself up.

I limp down the hallways of the house, knocking over picture frames and vases. I figure after what I'm about to do to this house, the homeowner won't mind anyways. I get to the stairway and another spell of vertigo washes over me, this one more powerful. I trip and stumble down the staircase and land on my back, staring up at the ceiling.

I can feel it spreading up past my groin and into my stomach. It begins to twitch viciously. For a second my stomach feels as though it's completely turning inside out.

I listen as the last gunshot is fired and world goes silent once again. I contemplate for a second on just lying there and letting it take over me. Just let them finish what they started.

I'm staying with you.

I said, get out of here!

"Alright," I say, pulling myself up again with the help of the railing.

I finally manage to stumble into the kitchen where the Signature awaits patiently on the table, its shiny metal casing glistening.

I collapse on a nearby chair and grab hold of the detonator.

I listen as the beasts begin to fall through the hole in the roof. I hear them scrambling around the upstairs, trying to lock on to my scent.

More beasts break through window barricades and knock down the front door. They flood into the house like a sea of cockroaches.

I feel the mutagen seep into my heart and the lights begin to dim.

Where's your brother?

Monster.

Tommy was destined...

The trumpet will sound.

Sign the deal.

We will be changed.

Hey Arthur, you wanna catch some Crawfish with me?

"Well boys," I say, holding up the detonator. "My brother sends his regards."

***

"HQ, this is Ivory Wings, do you copy?"
"Ivory Wings, this is HQ, we can hear you loud and clear."

"We just saw one big ass explosion, HQ, no more than forty miles out."

"Can you confirm its origins Ivory Wings?"

"We think it is Beta Squad HQ. We think they signed off."