S-OCT: The Lucky 13

The engines of the transport thrummed as it lowered onto the white pad.  Hundreds of small lights, intensely bright little diodes, made the metallic grey bulk look like a sea monster's mantle.

As the engines slowed, the machine leaned onto the pad, no longer held by the spinning blades.  Around it the towering white concrete buildings glowed with light, the streets far below lit so intensely it was almost indecipherable from daylight...  save the black sky overhead.

The shadows scrambled across the machine's shell as technicians prepared it for the voyage ahead.  Tubes locking, filling the craft with a nanite load and raw materials for the coming mission.  It was all methodical, an orchestra of rehearsed locking and unlocking of hoses.

The aircraft itself had several marks of identification, but in the light, only the important marks showed, glowing letters and symbols.  The blue words "Drop 2" and the glowing image of a red cross, prominent on the sides and wings.

The doors to the structure opened, causing yellow light to spill on the pad and the aircraft, from within, the passengers strode out, masked in their blue and white hazard suits.

There were seven of them in all.  The night shift.  7 soldiers sent out to one of the quarantine zones.

It was thankless work, hunting down those poor lost souls, inoculating them with nanobots before escorting them to the landing zone.  Not to mention fighting off the luckless many who'd already fallen past the point of recovery.

For this shift, numbers 8 through 14 were sent out to allow 1 through 7 their well-earned rest...  after their 12 hours, shift 3 would move in, then shift 4, and so on.  two morning, two evening.

#8 paced the carrier, inspecting the soldiers.  They had turns, but it was #8 today.  He stopped in front of #12.

"Retract your helmet."  #8 ordered.  #12's helmet melted away, sliding down the back like all the nanite garb, revealing glasses poking from some short black hair.

"You're a new one"  #8 grunted, unimpressed.

"Yes, sir." #12 replied, looking back up, almost childlike.

#13 noted the look was rather cute on the new #12.  Perhaps if they all made it through this shift they could get to know each other over a meal.  #13 smiled, missing most of the conversation.

"...and that's why you need to stick with 13 for your first shift."

#13's smile dropped, "Sir, I have to watch the newbie?"

"No, 13, you keep the newbie ALIVE.  Big difference.  Teach some of your skills.  It shouldn't be THAT hard..."  8 smirked back.  He always was a bit of a jerk when on leader duty.  8 tended to stick close to the LZ instead of going out to help.  Someday he was going to get fired for that.

12 gave a weak smile to 13, "Let's do our best?"

13 nodded, "Just be sure to put your helmet back on before we land."

12's eyes widened at the realization, causing the nanites to shoot up needlessly fast to form the sealed covering, causing 13 to laugh a bit, "You didn't need to put it on THAT fast..."

Several of the other soldiers chuckled, making 13 smile.  It was always best to keep the morale up, and a panicked Nanite shift was harmless and somewhat funny.  "Sorry 12, it's just rare to have someone new to pull a nanite burst on..."

12 was obviously dizzy from the prank, the nanites had pulled some of his own energy to move quickly.  "Thanks, 13..."

"Sorry, won't do it again..."  13 shifted in the seat.

The cabin seemed to lurch, the overhead racks shot down, containing their weapons for this shift.  The machine had clearly imprinted their numbers on the weapons.  Some would have considered it wasteful in the past, but every defense weapon was nanite-made.  They'd break them apart on turn-in to prevent contamination.  

Everyone got the standard Inoculation Pistol, filled to the brim with a load of curing nanobots behind each replaceable needle, and a new Numb Shot.

Other weapons were random, but just as vital, according to what roles the team would be doing that day.  They rolled out in order.

8 had, obviously, had gotten the Auto-Defense Gun; a massive thing with a stand.  The leader always got that monstrosity, since they weren't supposed to move.

9 seemed to luck out this time with a Purger, placing them on sweeping...  An easy job, you just followed the other members and made sure nothing living was left behind.  Survivors you jabbed, infected you incinerated.  Easy.

10 managed to end up with a Barrage Gun.  Figures command would give that to the lug.  Poor guy missed most of the time, perhaps if they had him fire obscene amounts of bullets, it'd fix the issue.  13 noted to stay far away from him.

11 seemed to get a nanite deconstructor, signifying rubble clearing.  Pity, 13 had been planning on 'stumbling' into 11's area earlier today, but watching 12 and that assignment meant they'd be far away.  11 was the shy type, and 13 really liked that.  but, once specials were handed out that left...

Gauss Rifles for 12, 13, and 14.  Searchers.  the absolute worst job for a newbie.  All three soldiers grabbed their clips and stuffed them into the pouches.  Gauss Rifles had to be reloaded.  The single-shot rifles were great for taking out infected, the single shot function was kind of an obstacle, but the punch of each round was more than enough.  You just had to be accurate.

"Alright boys and gals, we're in Quarantine skies now.  All helmets sealed.  We aren't an airlocked transport..."

12 frowned, "I had up til now to close my helmet?!"

"Actually, you have until we land."  14 leaned over to look at 12, "Just keep it shut outside so you don't catch anything.  we can't risk infecting the clean zones."  14 gave a reassuring smile to 12, before whispering to 13, "Can you keep 12 alive, 13?  I kinda got that one into this.  A relative of mine."

"Oh, your...."

"Cousin.  Just take care of 12, kay?"  14 was a decent girl...  well, on paper.  She'd just vanish on her shift.  She was like a wraith.  She'd come back with a veritable mob of tagged survivors an hour before takeoff.  Same amount as anyone else, she just made one trip.

"Alright 14.  I'll make sure 12 comes back, even if I die trying."

"Don't talk like that, 13...  don't want to jinx your luck so far."  14's smile seemed shaky now.

The engines howled, signifying a landing.  Like clockwork, the cabin bounced exactly tree seconds after the howling.

"Alright guys.  You are good to go!"  The pilot's cheerful voice echoed as the doors cracked open.

The landing zone was a temporary thing, a set of mobile fortifications around a lit asphalt area.  Probably an intersection long ago.  As the hazard soldiers moved out of their carrier, the previous shift, worn and weary, moved past them to take the vacant seats.  What worried 13 most was not the fact they looked exhausted, but that there were only six of them entering the craft...

The doors closed as they sat inside, and Drop 2 lifted into the night sky, leaving the seven fresh soldiers to hold the LZ and recover survivors.

-----------------

#6 pushed back against the wall, gripping his gauss, breath fogging the glass.  For some reason the radio wasn't working, he was cut off, the evac alarm was ringing, and he'd lost every innoculated survivor to those... things.

To his left, the area filled with mist.  The legless form began to solidify.

"Oh gawd...  oh gawd..."  6 aimed his gauss rifle and fired off a couple of shots, lancing through the bandaged wraith...  but it still advanced, reaching towards him.

"No...  no..."  6 backpedaled a bit before turning about and dashing down the hall.  They'd taken his survivors, why did they want him?!  He almost wished they were class 4 infected...  he could deal with those...    but not damn GHOSTS.

He ran into a dead end of the hall..  this building was like an old hotel or something...  lots of empty rooms and...

6 smirked, sure, it was going to be an abuse of power, but maybe he could get some revenge on these things.  He couldn't seem to lose them, so might as well give them a taste of something better than a gauss round...  He jumped out the window, stumbling don a fire escape as he shouted into the halls.  He ran right into the parking garage where he first saw the things, snapping out one of the beacons and dialing up one of the commands.

Sure enough, they came.  There were three of them, sliding on clouds of mist, glaring from between the bandages.  One reached for him with a long-fingered hand.

6 smirked, just as the beacon let out a small beep.  "Go back to hell."

The hotel rocked with the explosion of a barrage of missiles.  The last thing 6 saw was the three wraiths vanishing into mist...  and he thought, it could have been his imagination, but he thought he heard amused laughter.

-----------------

The missiles streaking overhead were a surprise to the squadron, as they hadn't even opened the doors to their little fortress.

There was only one thing that could have called those, so the missing morning shift teammate was out there still...  or they had been.

The reinforced doors rumbled open, allowing the team (minus #8) to exit the landing zone in their hunt for survivors.

The ruins of the city were depressing.  To 13, it was hard to imagine anyone was able to live here once.  The flickering streetlights and the fires were the only light, and several window were blasted out.  In the distance, gunfire could be heard, likely survivors battling off infected.  What was truly depressing was what lay behind the landing zone: miles of leveled concrete, a dreary lightless grey wasteland.

The disease didn't do this, but it was the cause.  The ravaged city resulted in mobs and the panic of the outbreaks, the damage stemming from looters and police response.  the leveling...  that was the fault of the squadrons.  To make sure they rid the entire area of the virus, they had to destroy everything.  They were essentially the cleanup.  All the droves of evacuees had already been gathered early on.

They just had to get the rest.

13 motioned to 12, who hurried behind, "Alright, you nub, let's get started.  We're looking for a total of 10 survivors normally.  But with you it's gotta be 15, since we're sharing."

"Oh..."  12 frowned.  13 shrugged, watching as 11 jumped off into an abandoned store.

"We ought to start over at the damaged area.  Explosions usually attract survivors.  They all want to find our LZ, but they don't know where it is most of the time.  Also, the missing teammate might be around..."

"is there anything else?"  12 could sense the pause as hiding more to it.  13 would have sworn if 12 wasn't so close.

"Yeah, that also attracts infrected.  Class 3s usually, but if the missing soldier used a beacon, we might be looking at a class 4."

"Uh, class?"

"Oh geez.  You don't know the classes?!  Okay, the disease has 4 phases.  Phase 1 - carriers. These are the people we're saving with inoculation.  They're just exposed.  Nothing is an issue.  Phase 2 - Rioters.  We handle them like survivors, since they can be cured, except they're violent.  That's why we have Numb Shots.  Phase 3 - Warped.  Limbs start mutating, animalistic behaviors, barely human, not saveable, shoot on sight.  Phase 4 - Monster.  Body mutated, unrecognizable, no human brain activity, attacks whatever moves.  Shoot on sight.  That's why we have main weapons.  Got it?"

"Um, yeah.  Sorry, I just..."

"Never studied the great disease?"  13 looked back at the newbie before scaling a great chunk of fallen concrete.

"Yeah." 12 was barely keeping up, 13 noted, should probably recommend a gym.

"Oh, fun..."  13 swung the gauss rifle to bear before jumping down, leaving 12 on top of the concrete.  "Just stay close, and I'll keep you safe, 12.  I told your cousin I'd keep you safe.  If there's anyone you can trust to keep you alive, it's me..."

"Ah, alright..." 12 smiled as they rounded the street corner, until the rubble of the hotel came into view.  "wha...  what happened here?"

"Well, let's see..."  13 strode into the rubble, "just stay back...  I think..."  13 stopped.  Buried partially under concrete, shielded by a column, was a blue and white hazard soldier, the helmet liquifying to its idle form.  The man was dead, still gripping the shattered gauss rifle.

"Uh...  13?  What are these?!"  12's radio cackled in, obscured by static.  13 whirled around to see three floating bandaged creatures, advancing towards the newbie.

"What the hell, ghosts?!"  13 fired off several rounds into the closest one, but they did nothing.  "12, I think these killed the lost soldier.  Get back to the LZ."

"What about y-"  12 protested while backing behind 13.

"GO NOW!" 13 fired at the other two, "I promised 14 I'd keep you alive.  If these killed you I wouldn't be able to deal with it!  GO!"  13 looked over to see 12 had already gone, leaving 13 to face these bandaged specters.  "what the heck is going on, there's no such thing as..."

A ghostly hand shot out and grabbed 13, causing the world to black out.

-----------------

13 stood in a field.  It was beautiful.  Greed grass waved slowly in a summer breeze, the sky overhead a vivid blue.  13 remembered this field.  Running through as a child, the family trips here...  So many happy memories of friends.

Heavy breathing, a voice through a filter, "This one is from the same world?"

The grass was tainted, it was turning red...  the ground was moist...  was this blood?

A voice, cultured, noble, "Indeed, but what an interesting outfit...  why can't you remove it?"

The trees, the flowers...  all was turning twisted, nightmarish.  The scent of blood filled the air.

"The garb...  it is like blood to our hands...  it warps, ebbs, flows.  the blades cut through, but leave no cut..."

The clouds...  Turning black, the sun seemed to fade.  Things stirred in the trees...

"And the blood?  We need an untainted one.  The others were... unnatural."

Unnatural, what an apt word for what was happening.  The sky was turning red.

"This one is by far some of the most pure blood...  The outfit it wears seems to keep it clean...  Pity the Shadow is making it rot..."

The whole place had become a nightmare.  Why?  13's last memory appeared clearly: Those things!  And, the voices!  13 whirled around, a bandaged face and a clawed hand were behind-

13 bolted upright, nearly slamming into the cage bars.  This place...  it had more in common with a dungeon than a city.

"Well it appears that our sleeper is awake..."  The cultured voice, it came from a man who was...  rather pale and colorless, clothed in a bloodstained uniform.  The blood, the stench of blood was overpowering.  13 gagged before the helmet slid over, sealing away the foul air.

"It took forever to remove that helmet..."  The man's partner was what looked to be a corpse with a grill for a mouth and wood growing from it's wounds.  It held a bloody scythe...

the unsanitary blade caused 13 to reach for...  The inoculation pistol!  It was gone!  The gauss rifle, the beacons!  All of them!

"Where is my gear?!"  13 gulped, at least the nanite swarm and clothing remained...

"Straight to the point.  How refreshing."  the man smiled.  He had pointy ears...  like an elf.  "You will not be using them.  The Queen could care less about your items...  Anyhow, we've already reviewed you, and you make for a good host candidate..."

"Host?!"

"For the Queen..."  The man smiled before walking away with his grill-covered friend, leaving 13 alone to imagine what they wanted.

Alarms sounded in 13's head, the nanites in the suit were starting to fail.  Replacements were needed. Any carbon would do.

13 spied a reddish tree root poking through the wall...  Set nanites to repair...