[center][h3]March 15, 2018 - Acton, Massachusetts.[/h3][/center]
[center]31 Degrees.  Snow.[/center]
[center][IMG]http://i66.tinypic.com/2dm8gtw.png[/IMG][/center]

Those who succeed in the world possess a combination of two qualities: drive and potential.  There are those in the world with ample potential and with the right push, achieve magnificent things.  There are also those with low potential, but with a strong enough drive to surmount their barriers and achieve greatness.  Stanley Scott possessed neither of these traits and subsequently was doomed to amount to nothing.

This was the final evaluation given to Stanley's parents from, what Stan called, a decrepit old witch (subsequent years would evolve the term "witch" into the more derogatory alternative).  He remained, what faculty called, a "black sheep" among the more studious and disciplined peers of Father John V. Doyle School.  Attempts to keep Stanley on track with his academics were frequently met with outbursts, often disrupting essential class time for students and creating a breakdown in classroom authority.  Subsequently, his academic tenure extended little further than his first year of high school before he broke away from the faith and his future and sought, as his parents and teachers described, comfort in "the Devil's hands".

"The Devil's hands" were, specifically, the Pagan's Motorcycle Club, where his tasks involved running errands and occasional mechanical work.  Despite Stan's less-than-glowing reviews in the academics area, one key trait that stood out above all else was his steadfast loyalty.  Stan was a talker, but he never "talked", and he became a figure that was more reliable than he was tolerable.

For all of the talk he received about preparing for the future, Stan's Catholic family and school hadn't prepared for the apocalypse.  Rather, it was his choice to join the Pagans that lead him to the Eastern Front, who kept him safe and sheltered as the world collapsed around him. He received word from some former Pagans members who also joined up with the Eastern Front that no one from their town of Coventry, Rhode Island - even the unsinkable Witch - survived.  He tempered the pain of loss with a smile and a cynical laugh at the irony.

[center]------[/center]

"Ten bucks says we freeze to death before Bill gets that Jeep out."  Nosering said, hugging his frozen wet jacket tightly to himself.  He stood several feet away from Sticks, back turned as the wiry man attempted to urinate against a thick tree covered in frozen rain.  Sticks, however, said nothing.

"Shit, I don't know about New Gu-...my bad, Weatherman, but [i]me[/i] - I like it better when it's raining ice and not raining bullets." His teeth chattered at the end of his sentence.  To his amusement, he watched as his breath formed a cloud, drifting out in front of him before fading into the distance.  The imagery reminded him of the smoke inside the burning school, which caused his skin to crawl with a pins and needles sensation.  He could feel every injection site up and down his arms and legs.  Anxiously, he scratched and laughed out loud.

"Man, I knew this guy back in Coventry - Johnny.  Used to brag about how much he smoked.  Said his dad smoked all the time and lived until 100.  'Burns out all the bad shit' he used to tell me.  So he smoked everything.  Cigars, cigarettes, weed.  If he could light it, he'd smoke it."  Nosering turned around as Sticks finished.  He laughed at his own memory and continued, "He had a smoking competition with some of his buddies: who could smoke the most before they got sick.  He won."

  Sticks blinked at him, unsure of what he was supposed to say.  Nosering decided to go right for the punchline, "Between you and me, I think we breathed enough of that shit back there to take his record.  Here's to you, Johnny."  Nosering motioned a cigarette puff and exhaled a cloud.  The two men laughed heartily.  Just as Nosering was about to give Sticks a pat on the shoulder, he heard a noise in the distance.  He had noticed it prior, but assumed it was just the wind.  Now, he was convinced it was something more.

  "Do you hear that?"  He asked Sticks, who shook his head silently.  "God, I hate saying that shit.  You ever watch those slasher movies?  That's exactly what people say right before they get killed.  Goddamn it, Weatherman, why do you have to spook us with the whole 'The woods are going to kill us' shit."  Nosering lowered his nasally voice to attempt his best gruff Isaac impression.  Sticks laughed again, but the sound persisted.  In fact, it was growing louder.

"I swear to God, if that's someone's kid...I..."  He grumbled and tightened his grip on his gun.  With an elongated utterance of "shit" that persisted with a dejected exhale, he gave a nod.  "I'll meet you back at the car.  I'm going to go check that out."

Every instinct screamed out at Nosering as he took steps deeper into the woods.  The crying was growing louder.  It was shrill and irritating, but then again he found all children to be shrill and irritating which, he reasoned, made it more authentic.  Still with every step, he muttered to himself, "This is it.  This is how I die.  Like a cheap [i]fucking[/i] horror movie.  Some Frank is going to come bite my head off.  Or maybe Tim.  Heh, well, if it's Tim, then at least I can tell him to bite me without him thinking it's some kind of invitation."

  The crying stopped.  Nosering paused, bringing up his weapon and exhaling another cloud.  "Here we go..."  But as he waited, alone with his body and feet covered with a thin layer of wet flurries, there was nothing but the silence of the wintery woods.  He lowered his weapon and heard the cry again.  It moved.  "Damn."  He muttered, and proceeded to search.

"Come on, little kid" He began to call out after a while.  "Tell me where you are.  Don't kill me when I find you.  I like living.  Living is good."

The sound that came next startled him.  It was his name.  Particularly, a static-filled, very adult male voice calling his name directly into his ear.  His heart slammed against his chest and he took deep breaths before responding.  "Bill!  Shit, damn it, you nearly killed me."

"Get back here now!" Skullface replied over the radio.

"You're not my real dad!"  Nosering mocked and laughed.

"Stan, I'm being very fucking serious.  I was wrong.  I was very wrong."  Skullface replied.

"Bill, what the hell are you talking about?"  Nosering replied, nervously.

Skullface spoke gravely, "Stan, the Franks aren't the only thing that's turned.  Every goddamn animal is out to kill us."

The realization hit Nosering like a ton of bricks.  He froze in place as he saw his realization manifest itself before him.

"Bill..."

"They're smart, too.  Shit, I didn't have time to let New Guy explain.  People were shooting at us.  The animals, Stan, they're very smart."

"Bill..."

"They can trap us.  Some of them make sounds like children because they know we'll come running."

"Bill, I'm staring at a very unhappy puppy right now."  Stan finally explained, raising his weapon and backing away from, what he would describe as, a Wolf on steroids who made sure to never skip leg day.

"Bill?!  What do I do.  Do I run?  Do I shoot it?  Damn it, Bill, I don't want to die."  Nosering said as began to side-step away from the growling wolf monstrosity.  It watched him with cold eyes, shifting briefly between its low growl and its high-pitched, very human-sounding whine.  It was taunting him.  It wanted him to know how stupid he was for falling for its trap.

It didn't need to remind him.  He was well aware.  "Damn it, damn it, damn it, shitshitshitshitshit.  Staaaay boy.  Staaaaaay!"

"We're on our way!  Don't shoot it unless you have to.  It may be traveling alone."

"[color=goldenrod]Wolves are packhunters[/color]", Isaac explained, coldly.  "[color=goldenrod]It's not alone.  He's dead.[/color]"

"Goddamn it, New Guy, shut up and run faster!" Skullface replied.

Nosering exhaled, trying to keep his composure.  "Heeeey, little buddy.  I know I look like a very tasty walking treat right now.  But if you look inside yourself, you'll see that man and dog are really best friends."  He continued to back away from the best slowly.  "You can understand me, right, buddy?  I...I told my mom I always wanted a dog.  A husky.  Saw one at the pound, looked just like you."  He cursed at himself, "Damn it, Stan, don't talk to the big-ass wolf about the pound."

He looked up again.  The wolf's ears began to raise.  Its snarling stopped and it watched him curiously.  "A big ol' husky, a good boy...just like you."

The wolf growled again.  Nosering panicked, "Oooooor girl!  Could have been a girl."

"Stan, we're almost there!" Skullface yelled over the radio.  Just then, Nosering heard rustling around him.  At that point, all of his worst fears were confirmed.  He was going to die.  "Bill, Greg...I don't want to dog food.  Please don't let this be the way I go.  Man, we just got out of that school.  This isn't fair."

  He could feel a hot tear fall on his icy cold cheek.  He kept his aim tight on the wolf in front of him.  "It's not fair!"  He shouted again.  The wolf's ears fell backward and its jaws opened, letting out a growl and a human whine.

"Yeaaah, mock me for crying, you bitch."  Nosering said, bringing his finger closer to the trigger.  "You wouldn't be the first."

"...Stan,"  Skullface said, quietly.  "Stan, there's four of them around you.  New Guy has them scoped.  We can't get closer..."

"Tell him to take them out!"

"They're ready to pounce.  He can take out one.  I can't shoot that far."

"I don't want to die here, Bill.  I don't want to die!" Nosering pleaded.  "You tell New Guy to figure it out, and figure it out fast.  After all the shit, after all THAT shit, I'm NOT going to die."

[center]----[/center]

"[color=goldenrod]I can take one shot before they're on top of him.  He's dead.[/color]" Isaac told Skullface.

The man paced, arms crossed.  "I'm not losing him, Isaac."  Skullface said, "I'm not.  Not one more good man is dying today.  You heard him, figure it out."

"[color=goldenrod]No hesitation.[/color]" Isaac said, coldly.  It was a phrase that resonated well with Skullface, remembering his talk with them on the staircase of the burning building.

"Bullshit."  He hissed.  "Bull.  Shit.  You will not shoot him.  Do you hear me?"

"Guys?!"  Nosering said over the radio.  "Guys, have you figured it out yet?"

"[color=goldenrod]Better he get a bullet in the head than to suffer what those things will do to him.  I've seen it.  They toy with their meat.  I'm ending this now.[/color]"

"Isaac!  Don't do it!"  Skullface said.  "Don't you do it.  I saved you.  You owe me.  You owe him!"

Isaac said nothing.  Already he had Nosering's head in his scope.  His finger edged toward the trigger.  Skullface's hand grabbed Isaac's shoulder hard, pulling the arm away from the gun, "This is on me, you hear me.  Us, this forest.  That's on me.  But killing him?  That's on you."

Isaac stared hard at Skullface.  "[color=goldenrod]I take the shot.  You run.  As fast as you can.[/color]"

Skullface glared at Isaac, but released his shoulder.  The man quickly rearmed himself and took aim.  The wolves were circling, testing Nosering.  But they were ready to pounce.

"Guys, now!"  Nosering shouted.

"[color=goldenrod]3...[/color]" Isaac said.

"What do you mean run?  Do you mean run to the Jeep or run to save him, Isaac?"  Skullface said.

"[color=goldenrod]2...[/color]"

"I don't want to die.  Please, guys, please don't do this to me!"  Nosering cried.

"Isaac!  You're not going to shoot him!  DON'T SHOOT HIM!" Skullface yelled, forgetting to turn his radio off.

"SHOOT ME?!  WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!"  Nosering shouted back.

"[color=goldenrod]1...[/color]"

"Don't!  Shoot him!"  Skullface said as he prepared himself to run.

"Don't shoot me!"  Nosering yelled.  "I swear to God, I'll haunt you, goddamn it!"

"[color=goldenrod]Go get him![/color]" Isaac said at last as he squeezed the trigger.  Accompanying the echoed crack of gunfire was the horrific yelp/scream of one of the wolves.  In the distance, semi-automatic gunfire could be heard as Nosering opened fire.

The recoil from Isaac's shot jammed the rifle into his already sore shoulder, causing him to drop the weapon.  He scrambled to pick it back up again, wincing as he looked through the scope.  All he could see in the distance was a cloud of snow, dirt, and blood.  He searched for Nosering or Skullface, panning his view left and right.  Two wolves flanked the cloud of smoke.  Isaac scoped one of them and squeeze a round, striking its hind quarters with a well-placed shot that send the animal careening to the ground.

From the smoke emerged Skullface, who fired a couple of rounds into the ground.  He was pulling on Nosering's arm.  He fired again at the dirt, screaming out as he pulled.  Finally, Nosering emerged with animal jaws clamped tightly on his right leg.  Skullface drew out his sidearm and finished off the wolf, then took Nosering's arm and dragged him across the ground again.

Isaac rose from his spot silently and shouldered his hunting rifle.  He drew out his handgun and proceeded toward the two, watching for anything on their flanks.  When he caught up to them, he brought the gun down toward Nosering, who was shaking violently.

"He's in shock!  They took his leg."  Skullface said.

Isaac watched as Nosering breathed rapidly, squirming and thrashing about.  Tears streamed down his face as he screamed inhuman sounds.

"[color=goldenrod]He's going to change...[/color]"

"No!"  Skullface shouted.  He began searching his pockets.

Isaac pointed the gun straight at Nosering's head.  "[color=goldenrod]You tried and failed.[/color]"

Skullface looked up as he kept searching, "Stop trying to shoot him!"  He shouted as he pulled a familiar looking syringe from his pocket.  

Isaac paused and briefly searched his own pockets.  The syringe was gone.  "[color=goldenrod]You stole...[/color]"

"It fell out of your pocket when you were flung from the Jeep.  Now shut up and keep him still."  Skullface said, trying to maneuver around Nosering's thrashing.

"[color=goldenrod]How's that supposed to help?[/color]"

"I don't fucking know, okay?  Eddie was shot up with this shit.  He looked hideous, but he was still Eddie.  Maybe this will save him."  Skullface was desperate.  He batted away Nosering's arms and looked at the leg, which was bleeding profusely onto the snow.

"[color=goldenrod]He's going to infect you.[/color]" Isaac said, coldly.

"He's kicking his blood around like a madman.  You probably have some on your face.  We're all screwed.  Hold him down!" Skullface commanded.

Against Isaac's best instincts, he knelt down onto Nosering's arm.  With his free hand (and still holding the gun to his head), Isaac pulled his mohawk and held his head to the ground.

Skullface hold Nosering's lower-half down and tugged his pants, exposing some bloody flesh on his thigh.  Dark streaks of infection already began working its way up.  He jammed the needle straight into the muscle and push some of the contents of the syringe in.  Immediately, Nosering froze, as if he had become sedated.  As the fluid pumped its way into leg, the skin began to gray, turning hard and scaly.  The leg swelled and Nosering let out another harsh scream.  As the scale spread, it made its way to the base of his thigh, hardening the skin around the opening and keeping the blood in.  Nosering's leg kicked Skullface's arm away, launching the syringe several feet away.

The shaking resumed.  His eyes rolled back and he coughed phlegm and blood.  Isaac released him and stepped back, holding out his gun, but the convulsions slowed and Nosering went back to screams.

Skullface stepped away looking, for the first time to Isaac, unsure of what to do next.  Nosering just continued to scream for an entire minute before his lips motioned into words.  He drew breaths, screamed, and mouthed words again.  Eventually, the screams formed into words.

"You assholes were going to shoot me!  You were going to shoot me!  Fuck you!  Fuck everything.  Fuck the world.  Shit shit shit shit!"

"Stan.  Stan, we're going to bring you back home."  Skullface said, as Nosering's eyes slowly began to shut.  "Stan!"