Project: Feral

The U.S.A. been devastated by a virus that has been in movies, books and stories for centuries. some say it came in a flash, some say it was slowly crawling towards them as if they saw it coming. The world has sealed and quarantined the entire US continent, but for how long will the virus stay there? Whenever someone thinks of the U.S.A. they think of the horrifying creatures that now tread on its streets and roads... These creatures are, as some say, the minions of the Devil himself, and some blame the world and its people for their own mistake. One man stands in the way of this virus, only one. The virus wants to spread and grow like fungus, but this man will end the virus, or will he? Does he have what it takes to save his beloved home? Or will it all be too much for him to handle? This is a plague...This is a war. (first story)

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1. Prologue

(hey guys this is my first story... click the like and comment button and enjoy )

Jake Anderson P.O.V.

I hate summer school, especially algebra and accounting, why can’t they just pay you to go to school, and give you bonuses for good grades? Then I would be top in my class. It’s not that I’m struggling with school, it’s just I have no inspiration to do my best, in any field of work or play. I am a bit laid back and enjoying every bit of my life as it goes by. I have no real plan for the future, just do well in school and maybe join the army. I have passion for warfare and strategy, that I give my 100%. I had many accomplishments despite my pole-like structure. I am 17 years old, taller than anyone else. My hobby is re-making wars on a small scale and hacking computers. I love pets, dogs, cats, birds, even insects; they love me and I love them.

I was in my final period, Arts class and hopefully the bell would ring soon. I pushed my dark brown unkempt hair out of my emerald green eyes and looked at my watch, 20 minutes left. I groaned and let my head fall into my arms, not worrying about the yapping substitute teacher. Something hit the back of my head. I raised myself and felt a crumpled up paper on my neck. I looked back and saw my beautiful crush waving at me. I asked her out before class and she said she will think about it. I look forward to the letter says what I want it to say. I unfolded it and felt my heart skipping 2 beats every split second. I wanted to scream out loud, she said yes!!! She also wrote she was just shy to ask me out to the forth-coming girl’s choice dance. I looked back and smiled so much, I thought the points of my lips were touching my ears. She smiled back, though hers was accompanied with a dark blush. I couldn’t believe my crush liked me. I guess that would explain why she didn’t say yes to any other guy, they are good-looking and fit compared to my skinny body.

Finally the bell rang and school’s out. I approached my crush, Jennifer Richards, with the confidence of a peacock when it’s spreading his feathers. “Hey there” I said coolly. “Hi there handsome” she replied in a flirty voice. I leaned against the wall and looked at her with interest while she complained about school, feeling the same way as me. “Anyway I wanted to ask you if you can hang around school longer?” she asked sweetly. I instantly replied “Of course”. She knew I had no guardian or parents since I was 14. I learned to take care of myself and here I am, two years later. We were at school 3 hours after it came out. We talked and talked when I heard something from afar. I had these so called ‘superhuman’ abilities for as long as my mind can remember. One of those abilities included hearing faint noises, scaling up small buildings with my bare hands and night vision. After a little while the noise became clearer, a chopper. Strange, no helicopters ever fly around the school area, never. I can hear another faint noise, but becomes louder fast, almost sounds like… “Get down!” I yelled. Jennifer and I ducked, while a missile zoomed past us. We felt the aftershock as the missile hit the school. The helicopter came closer and a voice spoke. “Jake Anderson, this is the military, come with us or die.” The pilot bellowed over the speaker. I recognized the helicopter. It was the AH-6 ‘Little Bird’ copter. Those are standard issue when it was used in Somalia. Those ‘little birds’ are fully equipped, with 70mm folding fin unguided and guided missiles, two m134 7.62mm pod mounted mini guns and a AAQ-16 forward looking infrared radar, a real mini-devil of war.

I just gave them my usual one-finger gesture and ran with my girlfriend to any safe place we can find. The helicopter spun around, pursued us and fired its twin mini guns. I felt my girlfriend’s hand slip from mine and I looked back, horrified. There lied my heart’s desire, dead on the ground. I was so mad I can feel anger coursing through my veins as they pulsate along with my fiery eyes. I gave into the anger and did something I can’t even think is possible, a roar, loud enough to actually make the helicopter swerve back a few feet. I fell onto my knees as they went limp; signaling my body is worn out. Soon, about 15 minutes or so, ground forces arrived. I fell onto the warm pavement as I finally blacked out.

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