oh wait. I forgot to post Kristofer Denault stood outside the upturned truck, breathing heavily. His hands were covered in blood, and despite his attempts to wipe them off, he didn't think he'd ever feel clean. The woman inside the truck was dead. He had made sure of that, although the methods he had had to employ were less than glamorous. His eyes felt heavy and his legs like lead as he dropped the gun in his hands. He couldn't see the remains of his fellow mates in the entrails strewn across the ground, and the piles of dead bodies were lying about in such quantities he felt physically ill just looking at them. He staggered through the little battlefield and made his way to the main road. The sky was beginning to clear and he knew that it would be morning soon. His trek down the long winding road towards the military facility was a long one. Fatigue and shock were setting in. He heard the sound of tires crunching over debris behind him and turned. The large military truck slowed and came to a stop before him. The bright headlights blinded him as he squinted towards it. Holding his hands up in neutrality he heard the car door open. “Identify yourself,” a man said, his voice rough. “MSgt Denault of Special Unit 62,” Kristofer said, keeping his hands up. “My transport was attacked and I am the sole survivor.” The man stepped forward and not too gently shoved him into the side of the truck. Hands thoroughly patted his clothing down, checking him for weapons. Then he was unceremoniously dumped into the truck. The truck continued on its way, the entire exchange only taking a few minutes. A stern looking older man sat in the back of the truck next to a younger black-haired woman with defiant green eyes. Kristofer kept quiet on his seat, feeling the truck bouncing over the uneven pavement. The woman spoke first, her lips a tight line. “What are you in for?” she quipped, the sarcasm dripping from her tone. “Excuse me?” Kristofer asked, confused. As he studied her he realized that she was not military at all. He could see the glint of her badge across her jacket and recognized it as the Holly Glen Police Force insignia. Looking at her wrists he saw that she was rubbing her wrists angrily, the skin bright red as if she had been doing so for a while. Kristofer could tell she was involved somehow, but he had no prior connections to Holly Glen and could not identify her. The woman remained silent, staring away from him. She seemed to have lost complete interest in speaking to him, and as far as he knew she was pretending he didn't exist. The truck slowed to a stop and Kristofer could see out of the side window that they had not yet reached the facility. A hand smacked up against the glass and he jumped back in surprise, almost falling from his seat. The older man stood up from next to the woman and grabbed his rifle. The truck began backing up at a swift pace and the three of them in the back had to steady themselves at the sudden change of direction. The driver yelled back at them to hold on, and Kristofer felt a sense of panic. Outside the window he could see throngs of them, swarming around the truck and trying to climb inside. The singular thought 'he isn't going to...' flitted through Kristofer's head before the driver floored the gas pedal. The truck surged forward through the masses of people, at some points hitting people with such force that Kristofer wondered if the truck would flip over. He looked behind him and saw a sea of red eyes glaring at him through the early morning light. The front gate remained closed as the truck approached at high speed. Looking up Kristofer saw machine guns lit up from the front gate turrets, spraying bullets into the crowd around them. The passenger in the front of the truck was shouting into the radio, yelling for the facility to open the gate. Kristofer knew it wouldn't open. At the last second, the truck skidded to a stop before the steel gate that barred their way into the military compound. Kristofer's eyes caught a flash of white from outside and he saw a woman standing at the gate, one eye covered in a white bandage, the other a bloody amber. She was wearing nothing but a hospital style gown and was staring straight at him through the window. A chill shot up his spine as he stared at her. Then she smiled at him. The driver swore something awful before he hit the gas and the truck began pulling away from their original destination. They were not going to be let inside, and Kristofer felt his stomach drop. He could see the facility begin to fade into the background as they sped away. The woman he had been looking at was no longer there. “We'll have to go back. Into the city,” the older man in the back said. The driver didn't turn to look at him as he replied, “The city? That's worse than here!” The man didn't respond. Kristofer again felt those green eyes on him. The woman was staring at him. “You're one of them too?” she said slowly, her voice low and bitter. Kristofer looked at her. “If you mean military, then yes I am. But I can see that you're not. Who are you?” The woman stared at him so thoroughly he began to feel uncomfortable. “Deputy Allie Southern of the Holly Glen Police Force. But really, I'm a prisoner here.” With the last sentence she shot a glare at the man next to her, who stoically ignored it. Kristofer didn't know what to say so he looked out the window. The drive was going to be a long one, and his body was tired. Before he knew it, even amidst the tension, he had dozed off. Allie watched the dark-haired military man and frowned. She still hadn't been able to find out where James had gone, and now there were more questions. Why had a lone military man been walking the road to the facility? Something wasn't right.
holy crap you read fast and yes. At this point I've picked out a few survivors I want to live. But.... I'm not telling you who *evil laugh*