RAGE (Descendants Saga (Crisis Sequence One)) by James Somers Page A
Authors: James Somers
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the streets and buildings, hearing screams and the sounds of chaos growing nearer. He retrieves his lab coat and badge, leaving the tazer because it is nowhere to be found following the crash. He stuffs the lab coat and badge into his shoulder bag and zips it closed. He is ready, or so he thinks.
Then he spot s a mob of people heading his way. There are several armed police officers running in front of them. The mob consists of at least fifty individuals, all of them clearly rabid with this new plague.
Fifty yards away, in the side of a building , sits the double-decker red bus that broadsided him coming off Queensgate out of control only moments ago. People are being attacked on the bus. The driver is nowhere to be seen.
Screams resound from every direction. A helicopter passe s low overhead, a sniper firing shots toward the mob of infected individuals, no doubt in response to pleas for help from the police officers fleeing on foot. Vladimir has to get off of the street. He might stand here and hope to gun down dozens of people like the American movie character, Rambo, but the reality is much different. He will be overwhelmed by the onrush while only a few individuals fall before him.
Vladimir turns, noticing the Natural History Museum stretching away from the corner of Queensgate and Cromwell. It is a huge building with lots of places where he might escape all of this approaching activity. At the very least, he will be in a much better position to pick off individuals in a building with many places to hide.
He runs as the police officers approach. They are out of breath. One of them stumbles and falls. His partner keeps going as the mob engulfs the fallen officer. While a few remain with the man, feeding upon him, the others carry on, trying to run down the other man and anyone else in their path.
Vladimir briefly considers shooting the officer in the leg, so he will also fall in the street as a distraction. However, the infected have already spotted him. Some are even veering after him.
The police officer also notice s Vladimir, as he leaps over the waist high wrought iron fence, and turns aside to pursue him. “Wait!” he cries. “Help me!”
The young policeman panic s. He probably spotted Vladimir’s submachine gun dangling on the strap at his right hip. Perhaps, the officer thinks he is some kind of special agent. Maybe, he doesn’t care at all why Vladimir has such a weapon on his person, so long as he uses it to save him before he, too, is overwhelmed by zombies.
Whatever the case, Vladimir isn’t waiting for him. He sprints toward the entrance to the museum. The officer continues down the street, bypassing the leap over the wrought iron. He might not think he can make the jump after running for so long already.
Vladimir finds the front door open. He passes through, turns and locks the bolt. He turns, noticing there are no patrons, no workers. The building appears to have been abandoned in the rush to get out of Kensington.
The policeman round s the fence, sprinting for dear life up the sidewalk with a horde of the infected on his heels. He hits the glass door, pulls on it, then in terror pulls on it again. The infected leap at him. The officer’s body hits the glass, his face presses against the clear pane. He screams. The doors shatter as zombies plow into one another, trying to get to their prey. Vladimir holds tight to his MP5K, receding into the shadows of the dimly lit Great Hall of the Natural History Museum, as the infected tear the man apart.
He turn s and runs. It isn’t cowardice though. Vladimir has a plan, and this is a perfect environment. He has to eliminate the infected people who are now coming into the building. It is time for the assassin to put his skills to work once again.
An Inconvenient Truth
I was never afraid of viral pandemics until it became too late to do anything about it—Jonathan Parks
14 Days Earlier
My journey through London takes place
Then he spot s a mob of people heading his way. There are several armed police officers running in front of them. The mob consists of at least fifty individuals, all of them clearly rabid with this new plague.
Fifty yards away, in the side of a building , sits the double-decker red bus that broadsided him coming off Queensgate out of control only moments ago. People are being attacked on the bus. The driver is nowhere to be seen.
Screams resound from every direction. A helicopter passe s low overhead, a sniper firing shots toward the mob of infected individuals, no doubt in response to pleas for help from the police officers fleeing on foot. Vladimir has to get off of the street. He might stand here and hope to gun down dozens of people like the American movie character, Rambo, but the reality is much different. He will be overwhelmed by the onrush while only a few individuals fall before him.
Vladimir turns, noticing the Natural History Museum stretching away from the corner of Queensgate and Cromwell. It is a huge building with lots of places where he might escape all of this approaching activity. At the very least, he will be in a much better position to pick off individuals in a building with many places to hide.
He runs as the police officers approach. They are out of breath. One of them stumbles and falls. His partner keeps going as the mob engulfs the fallen officer. While a few remain with the man, feeding upon him, the others carry on, trying to run down the other man and anyone else in their path.
Vladimir briefly considers shooting the officer in the leg, so he will also fall in the street as a distraction. However, the infected have already spotted him. Some are even veering after him.
The police officer also notice s Vladimir, as he leaps over the waist high wrought iron fence, and turns aside to pursue him. “Wait!” he cries. “Help me!”
The young policeman panic s. He probably spotted Vladimir’s submachine gun dangling on the strap at his right hip. Perhaps, the officer thinks he is some kind of special agent. Maybe, he doesn’t care at all why Vladimir has such a weapon on his person, so long as he uses it to save him before he, too, is overwhelmed by zombies.
Whatever the case, Vladimir isn’t waiting for him. He sprints toward the entrance to the museum. The officer continues down the street, bypassing the leap over the wrought iron. He might not think he can make the jump after running for so long already.
Vladimir finds the front door open. He passes through, turns and locks the bolt. He turns, noticing there are no patrons, no workers. The building appears to have been abandoned in the rush to get out of Kensington.
The policeman round s the fence, sprinting for dear life up the sidewalk with a horde of the infected on his heels. He hits the glass door, pulls on it, then in terror pulls on it again. The infected leap at him. The officer’s body hits the glass, his face presses against the clear pane. He screams. The doors shatter as zombies plow into one another, trying to get to their prey. Vladimir holds tight to his MP5K, receding into the shadows of the dimly lit Great Hall of the Natural History Museum, as the infected tear the man apart.
He turn s and runs. It isn’t cowardice though. Vladimir has a plan, and this is a perfect environment. He has to eliminate the infected people who are now coming into the building. It is time for the assassin to put his skills to work once again.
An Inconvenient Truth
I was never afraid of viral pandemics until it became too late to do anything about it—Jonathan Parks
14 Days Earlier
My journey through London takes place
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