Somewhere in the Amazon, two Cobra Operators make their way towards their designated rally point. Designation Vipers Nest. One is a long-time Range Viper, a master at procuring supplies, tracking, and wildlife survival. The other is a Swamp Rat. Trained to be tougher than the gators, snakes, and killer insects that share his home. Both experts. Coming across one another while on the to the Vipers Nest they decided to travel together. Long ago they ran out of ammo and abandoned their firearms. Now they fight blade-to-head against the undead.
"What do you think happened to her?"
"I don't give a shit." With a thunk, the heavy machete comes down on the skull of the creature dragging itself across the ground teeth bared and scratching its way toward the men. Once a woman. Now a threat. "I don't humanize them. I kill them."
"But they were human once. Don't you have any sympathy?"
With lightning-fast reflexes, the Range Viper turns on the unsuspecting Swamp Rat, "Sympathy? Sympathy? Do you want to know if I have sympathy? When this all went down you know where I was? Home. With my wife and kids. That surprised you Rat? An RV like me having a family? Well, I did. I had a beautiful wife, my high school sweetheart. We married right after graduation. Right before I left for the Army. She was an Army wife through and through, traveled to all the crap duty stations and never once complained. Brought our two beautiful daughters into the world. I wasn't even there when Alicia was born, I was in some third-world suck. After the Court Marshal, when I joined up with this outfit, she stood by me. When this shit started I was home. On leave. We lived in a nice suburban house. Had a minivan for crying out loud. Lived the good life. Finally made the 'American Dream.' Then this."
He swings the gore-covered blade into the corpse.
"I was able to hold THEM off. We bugged out as we practiced. Headed to a safe house. Got stopped at a damn Army roadblock. Had my clean id. Figured we'd get through no issues. These fuckers…"
He slams it into the head of the truly dead thing again.
"… they came out of nowhere. The ground pounders opened fire. Mowed down the first wave of the fuckers. I got the girls down on the floor of the van. One came through the window. Tried to get my Linda. Got a hollow point instead. The Army, those guys fought well. Rushed us through the checkpoint. No questions, just save the civilians. I watched in the rearview as they were overrun. Sons of bitches never stopped firing. We got to the safe house. They wouldn't let Linda in. She was bitten. I sent the girls down as I held my love in my arms till she passed. When her eyes opened…"
He stumbles over his words. Holding back emotions he can't bear to accept. The skull mask blazed with a crimson handprint hiding his face.
"The bullet went clean through. I could see the bloodied ground."
The weighted blade finds its way into the gristly remains.
"My girls."
Again it finds its mark.
"We were there, in the safe house, 3 days. Waiting on the transport for our families. The Commander had ordered that no one was to be forced to leave their loved ones till they were extracted. On the third day, THEY came. Broke through. We were armed. We fought for our kids. Our families. For Cobra. There were too many. Even for us."
The blade sinks into rotted flesh.
"My girls. Alicia was 6. Took ballet. I missed every one of her recitals. Katie was 3. We used to go to the park. She loved the jungle gym. Loved climbing. She was starting gymnastics classes."
The head rolls off the shoulders of the thing on the ground.
"Sympathy? I have none."
The Swamp Rat is taken aback by the story of his comrade. He places a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry man."
Determined green eyes look back through the empty sockets of the mask, "The Commander vowed to wipe these things off the map. Total eradication. I plan to ride with him till it's done."
"Let's kill these fuckers." The Swamp Rat kicks the creature's head into the brush.