New World Order: Chapter 1

In my world, there are those that choose to fight, and those that choose to die. Nobody really knows when it all started. Maybe a hundred years ago, maybe a thousand, maybe more. I don’t really care. Nobody really does. We know the story of how it started, we are all taught it from birth, so we never forget.

It is said that the virus started in a lab somewhere, just some scientists messing with things they shouldn’t. What they made was pure evil. So evil that it drove them to insanity. They released their creation and were the first to be turned. Soon it spread to cover the entire continent. Soon all of Europe, Africa, Asia, and Australia were infected. North and South America held out for a while afterwards, turning into a sort of heaven, whilst the rest of the world was hell. Then one day the creatures of hell reached heaven, and struck it down with all their might. Moving through Alaska, specially bred sea beasts came across, following the path of the remains of the land bridge. First to fall was Canada, then America. The heat of the south held the beings at bay for some time, until they adapted to the heat. They moved in and South America was taken as well. How many of us are left now, I don’t know, but it isn’t much.

By the time the south had fallen, the wealthy and powerful, the so called higher class, had fled to the impenetrable fortress of Antarctica. There the remainder of the human race lives peacefully, free from harm. But for those left behind, life is a war, and we are losing. The dead have risen, and they reign supreme.

My name is Victor Norman. I live in what remains of Vancouver. I’m 15 years old, and I am alone. All alone, little Victor, people dying all around him. Poor little Victor. That’s what those freaks always said.

What the rest of humanity doesn’t know, is that the freaks of the plague aren’t mindless. They aren’t stupid. They don’t roam around pointlessly, they thrive. And they don’t need food; they use photosynthesis to get their food from the sun. But one thing the humans have right is that they are monsters. It would have been better if they killed everyone, but they didn’t. Instead, they left some of us alive. And they breed us. They force women to have children so that they will always have their playthings.

I was one of those playthings once. In Alberta, behind the flood shield that was the Rocky Mountains. After the freaks had taken the world, they increased global warming to cause flooding globally, destroying all coastal cities and supposedly flooding Antarctica. I don’t think it worked though, because they would have mentioned an absolute victory.

Then again, after I ran away and came to Vancouver I haven’t really gotten to listen in on world developments. Vancouver is nearly entirely flooded, so the Viral population here isn’t so bad. Maybe a thousand of them. But they are aquatics. They can swim better than fish, covering 100 meters in seconds. But, their eyesight isn’t so great out of the water.

They have a leader too, their source of guidance. All the freaks are useless individually, but with a leader, a specially bred intelligent Viral, they can operate efficiently. His name is Duke Hess, and as a member of the Human Resistance Movement, it is my duty to kill him at all costs.

It’s this duty that has gotten me into my current situation.

“Look, pal…” I began, holding my hands up, palms forwards, as Reggie The Viral aimed a gun at my face. Reggie was fairly normal compared to most Viral. Human enough, missing the flesh from his cheeks, putting two gaping holes on either side of his face. His lips had eroded as well.

“Don’t you ‘Look pal’ me, boy; I know what you’re planning.” He gurgled in the Viral language. I hate Viral voices, they sounded so dead. I suppose it helped that they were dead. The language sounded equally dead. Turns out zombie moans were decodable. They taught me it after I was born. They taught me allot of things, treating me pretty well. Until they ate my mother.

“Oh yes, and what is that?” I said innocently. Reggie did this every time we did business. He was very paranoid for a traitor.

“You are going to report me.” He said accusingly. It was forbidden for a Viral to do business with a human. He would be killed, and this time permanently.

“Now why would I do that, Reggie?” I asked, “You know you are my best source of food.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“How many times have we done this?”

“Five?”

“Fifty, Reggie, now, hand over the food and I will give you the battery.” I waved to a car battery I had behind me. “Or else I will be force to torch it.” At the mention of fire Reggie shifted his weight slightly.

“You wouldn’t do that…”

“Would I Reggie?” I clenched my right hand into a fist and it engulfed itself in fire. I had rigged several pouches of gasoline in my clothes, connected to tubes that lead to my wrists and attached to a nozzle with a flint under it. By moving my hand just right, I could lay down actual fire on any threat that faced me.

Virals hated fire, it terrified them. I never understood why, but I don’t question it. If they don’t like it, then I do.

“Fine, fine, the food will be delivered.” That is one thing I have to be thankful for, Virals can’t lie. They don’t have the capacity to grasp the concept alone. So my food was on the way.

“And you promise not to report me?” I asked. He nodded, a piece of his ear falling off. I doused the flame by sticking it in my pocket and handed him the battery.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” I groaned in Viral talk. He gurgled something, I didn’t catch it. He walked up to the window and jumped out, plummeting ten stories down to the water below, hitting the surface with an unsettling splash. I stuck my hands in my coat pockets and walked out the door and into the stairwell.