At 8:15 AM, the military was ready. They had around 5 more hours 'til the undead arrived, straight from the valley's enterance, facing the gate. The helicopter crews loaded the birds. The A10's were  equipped with uranium rounds. The F-15 was reconfigured for ground attack. The steam locomotive was brought down from the mountainside, and placed next to the fort's railroad track. Soldiers climbed onto it and fortified them all. Out of the 25 trailers, 6 had completely burned. The rest were still okay, and the soldiers began creating homemade armor out of sheet metal, logs, or anything thick. To supply the train, wood was thrown from the burning trailers into the train's flatbed. Soldiers, over thier Kevlar, began taping logs, sheet metal, even phonebooks to thier armor to defend themselves. Medical and carpenter's masks covered those who didnt have gas masks. The infantrymen stood by the fort, and the artillery crews began configuring the shell wells. With everything manned, 65 soldiers were left to fight in the fort. The gates, which wouldn't stand for shit, were knocked down, and the 6 humvees filled thier place. Logs were thrown under the vehicles, so the undead couldn't crawl under them. Soldiers climbed into them, with the rifles and heavy machine guns ready. The turrets were loaded. 12 soldiers decided to do something brave. The M1 Abrams was placed outside the wall, and the crews climbed inside. But 12 infantrymen, climbed onto the tank. That included the newly promoted Sgt. Major of the Army, Riley. He grabbed all the ammunition for his .44 Anaconda he could find, and put the leather ammo bag on, fixed his beret, ripped off his eye-patch, then climbed onboard, ready to lead the men into death. They fixed their belts onto the tank's top turret, strapping themselves on to the bitter end. In the small hole in the tank, riley took the small american flag from the fort's flagpole, raised the 20 foot storm-flag, and took the small one, onto the tank. The sun was out, and the sun's rays casted onto the Stars and Stripes, it's last majestic fly before certain death. Will and Col. Kyle got on the horses, blue spur hats on, and stood by the tanks, waiting.

5 Hours Later-Edit

Will: I never thought it would end like this. I thought we'd all starve.

Kyle: Please- I figured those old Minutemen would go off, and we'd all vaporise.

Riley: Wait-Do you hear that? Listen-

It was quiet, except for birds, and the trickle of the nearby Owyhee River, then suddenly- the birds stopped, then flew away- the deer trotted away. It was a low roar. The undead. The tank commander popped from his hatch, and pulled his binoculars. All he could see, was undead. Millions upon millions just marching along toward thier victory. This was pretty much the end, judging by the size.

Tank Commander: Fuck! They're here! What' our plan?

Will: We're gonna go in circles, leading them into artillery baragges, and the marshes. The tank can float, and the horses should do just fine. The artillery on each point can strike the road, the marsh, and the third can go wherever. The boys inside'll just shoot at the oncoming ones. We'll be about 25 yards out from the wall. Got it>

Soldiers: Hooah!

Kyle pulls from his belt, the radio.

Kyle: Command, this is Kyle. Cut the tall trees. Out.

After a minute of sitting, the nervous soldiers, some smoking, drinking, or praying, some even vomiting out of nervousness, begin the assault. The undead, maybe 50 yards away, shamble toward the fort.The soldiers strapped to the tank's top turret, shake their heads as the tank commander thrusts his arm forward, symboling the column of two horses and a tank to drive into death. The tank commander stands out the tank, with the hatch open, using the radio to communicate with the drivers. Riley, balancing on the tank while standing, is holding the american flag in one hand, Anaconda in the other. Next to him, is a big bag of M4A1 magazines, strapped to the tank. The noise of the tank, the horses, and the screams of the damned are a loud roar. Radios are used to communicate.


The soldiers from the tank begin to spam M4 Rounds into the horde, then a pop is heard. Will looks behind him to see the rain of artillery splat in front of them. Only about twenty undead drop. Suddenly 12 blackhawks and 3 A-10s spam across the horizon. There is a constant stream of red and green coming from the Blackhawk's tracers. The A10's swoop down and unload around twenty rounds. The Tank is now driving in a large circle, from the long wall, to the marshes, back to the gate. As the tank roars into the horde, blood and gore splatters all over the tan paint of the tank. The horses are hugging close to the tank. Will, in one hand, has an MP5, and in the other, a cavalry sword. Col. Kyle trots around the tank, stomping over the undead, with his sword and Anaconda.

Riley: For AMERICA!

Riley makes a daring move. He signals the train to move forward 100 yards, and the tank moves with it, parking next to the tank, as the horses gallop all around the setup. On the train, the doors have been welded shut, and the soldiers climb atop the traincar, firing out randomly. The windows are bashed out, as the soldiers throw grenades, dynamite, napalm canisters, and many other things.


The train goes back to it's previous mission- travelling up and down the rail-tracks, keeping the undead out of the crew chief's way, and off the taramac. The tank pulls in front of the humvee-gate, and the horses trail off to help the train. The tank is now almost entirely red, and the ammo bag is almost depleted. Before they know it, the tank's turret is spinning, and riley sits down next to a soldier. The tank's main cannon and auxillairy machine gun are firing wildly. Many undead are swarming the tank, and the soldiers have no choice but to kick them back so they can shoot. Before Riley even notices, a soldier's belt snaps, and he's pulled off to be devoured. He bends down to help, only to see him pulls his rifle to his cheek and blow his head off.


The driver, turns around to look at Riley like he's a lunatic, but acknowledges and the tank's engine fires up to around 20 mph, and they plow through the undead, into the fray. Many don't pay attention, and head for the fort. The Soldiers, even after an hour of fighting, are already exhausted with thier first batch of ammo. Soon, flamethrowers are drawn, and the soldiers spray flames out to the undead, charring the lot of them. The bodies begin to pile as the fighting rages. Col. Kyle and Will kick thier horses up the hill, and climb to the top, with binoculars, ordering the helicopters to strike on large bunches of them across the valley. Kyle's horse seems to be freaking out, then bucks him around, before he kicks him off and runs off into the mountains. Kyle climbs on to the back of Will's horse, and holsters his sword. The horse whinnies, and begins to charge down the mountain.

The IC post in the command tower, ran by six people on radios, just stands, watching the sky go black from gunpowder and smoke.

Hawthorne: Fuck...look at this shit. Should we just blow it all to hell?

Tsgt. Hadley: NO! We might actually win this!

Hawthorne: We can't win this! A scout reported that the horde stretches all the way back to Mountain City.

Tsgt. Hadley: Is there anyone out there who can help us?

Hawthorne: We've been checking. The Herc's are on thier way back from The Yukon, and we've contacted Army and National Guard bases, to no response, but we've also heard from a Coast Guard Ship that's been running back between Guam and San Fransisco. The only problem, is it ran out of fuel and is pretty much drifting around with the winds. And It's very lightly armed, doesn't carry missiles, and, well, cant get close to us. We've heard mention of a Mexican Army unit down south, but we're sure those are just rumors.

Tsgt. Hadley: Fuck! FUCK!

The Wall of humvees was nearly swarmed. They had begun crawling under the humvee, by knocking out the logs, and climbing the walls. The Fort was damn near fallen. The train had retired to the side of the fort, and the tank disapeered into the undead ocean.


The soldiers grab thier rifles and bags of ammunition, then run back to the sandbags, where HMGs and miniguns were mounted. A soldier lit a molotov and threw it at the Humvees, lighting them on fire, slowing down the undead. But they didnt stop. Tsgt. Hadley, at the tower, watched in horror and reached for the red button to launch the 16 nuclear missiles.

Hawthorne: Don't Fuckin' Do it you whor-

Her hand reached down and clicked the button. To Hawthorne, his life flashed before his eyes, his last memory before he lost it all. The nuclear warheads, as the silo doors open, one by one, shoot off into space.

Two Days AfterEdit

In the midst of the fort, of the valley, there was fog. The entire terrain was coated in a thick layer of dark, crusted blood. The walls are now red, and there are wrecks of helicopters and two Warthog ruins contracted in the valley. In the dark morning, a thick layer of fog smothered the valley and all of its contents. But in the marshlands, by the creek, partly submerged, was a tank. Suddenly, the top hatch opens, and out comes Cpl. Riley, or, newly appointed Sgt. Major of the Army, Silas J. Riley. He lights his cigar, fixes his red beret, and hops out. Followed by the cowboy hat-wearing Col. Hall, and two tankers, an engineer, and a grunt. They look around, to see no one but blood and the occasional corpse, but most have gone with the horde.

Riley: Where's the fucking train?

Grunt: Hell if I know, gunny.

Hall: They went north, I assume.

Tanker: Duh, the lines only go north, Willie.

Hall: This is a birth of a new era.I'm no longer Will. From now on, you call me Sir. Understood?

Tanker: Yes sir, sorry sir.

Riley: Sheesh, what's gotten into you?

Hall: Oh gee, you fucking prick. Maybe the fact that-

Hall grabs Riley's face and shoves it next to his, and spreads his arm out, pointing to the sky.

Hall: Everyone's dead?

Riley: Good point.

The engineer steps over to the tracks, to see smeared, yet wet blood across the tracks, pointing north.

Engineer: They went north. We can follow the blood coated on the tracks.

Hall: *whispers in the engineer's ear* Sure thing, you prick.

Suddenly, an unusual low moan echos through the valley, and suddenly three C-130s fly across the sky, but continue to circle, because of the fog. Hall's small radio then goes off.

Radio: What in the........*Static* We can-*Static* Shit! 

Hall: Don't worry about it! I'm gonna climb the tower and switch on the runway lights and beacon!

Radio: Holy......*Static* Someon-*Silence* Alive?

Hall: You know it! The Army doesn't die!

Hall swims out of the marsh, followed by Riley, and they begin to feel the railroad tracks back to the fort for a minute, where they find the side railroad door, feel for the handle, open it, and crawl into the command tower. Riley turns on his flashlight, to see Cpl. John with a hole in his head, laying on the floor, holding an M4, caked around a pile of undead.

'Riley': Sorry old friend.

They continue up the stairs, to see in the top tower, Tsgt. Hadley, while zombified, hanging from the ceiling fan, moaning.

Hall: AWW FUC-

He takes a step back, and vomits all over the floor, while Riley draws his .44 and shoots her in the head.

Riley: Poor, poor, impulsive little whore.

Riley shines his flashlight on the control panel on the window, and sees a runway light switch. Riley pulls the relay, and the fuse blows out, shocking his hand, knocking him on the ground, but turning on the lights outside. Will walks over to the window, and sighs.

Hall: Only half of them are actually working, and the runway end lights aren't even on.

RadioYeah, we see it, but- where are the fucking radio lights?

Hall: They're broken, so- just use your best judgement.

Radio: Fuck, Hawk 1-1 going in for a landing.

The first C-130 starts to come down the runway, hits it about halfway through, doesn't slow down, and hits the side of the mountain, exploding in a monstrous fireball. Hall sighs.

Hall: Alright, you two better use better judgement.

The second C-130 lands perfectly and parks on the tarmac, followed by the third one, which hits the runway too hard, blows a tire, and shatters all the windows on the airplane, but turns onto the tarmac and parks next to the second plane. Hall and Riley run down the stairs, and out to the tarmac, to see the three pilots from each plane, two infantrymen from one plane, and one from another. Riley looks at one of the pilots, who has a shocked look on his face. He carefully walks up to the C-130 with shattered windows, walks up the ramp, to see one of the infantrymen pinned in the wall, with a large shard of glass in his throat. He's dead, so Riley shoots him in the head with his .44, blowing out his brains.

Hall: Well shit, that leaves only three useful men. I hate to say this to you pilots, but the US Department of the Army no longer needs your services. What I'm going to let you guys do, is take some supplies from the 3rd and 4th level bunkers, and refuel, and just go. I honestly sugguest Guam. Remember that Coast Guard Cutter we always talked to? It's gotta be going there for a reason. Good luck men.

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