Infected : Prologue (Final Draft?)

Just finished the prologue for Infected: Corruption. I might have missed something though, so let me know if something doesn't sound right or if you're confused about something. I'll be happy to fix it :). Anyways, let me know what you think and thank you in advance!

“My name is David Chambers,” the man typed on the computer screen.

The low humming of the hard drive mingled with the raindrops to create a subtle melody to accompany his typing. The man leaned forward in his chair, bad posture from bad habit. His thick framed glasses reflected the light of the computer screen onto itself. His hair was gray and balding, while his frail-looking fingers moved with the vigor of years past.

“I am a former CIA agent, 63, male.”

The room was dim lit and ill-kept. Cigarettes littered the floor, amongst leftover pizza, overdue rental videos, and other forgotten things. The wind hissed through the cracks in the window.

“The war to end all wars,” he typed, “Was only the beginning.”

The man paused for a moment, allowing his memory to guide him. Oddly enough, his first thought was of that day. He remembered her smile, her laughter, her kiss. He remembered the grass swaying gently in a cool, summer breeze. He remembered how the clouds had disappeared just for them, leaving a clear blue sky for them to bask in the sunlight. And then...blood. Nothing but blood...

“It was known as ‘The End’, an apocalyptic nightmare that took us to the depths of Hell itself. No nation was spared of devastation, the nuclear holocaust reached the very ends of the Earth, and almost brought an end to the world.”

He paused again, his fingers lingered on the keyboard. Could he really type this? Could he really put to ink the grim past they had all forgotten? Yes, he decided long ago, he had to, it was his sworn duty to record every single word of history, no matter what.

“But somehow, we survived. An experimental project, called Guardian, had been developed amidst all the bloodshed. It was untested, but humanity’s last hope for survival. The superpowers of the world all had a Guardian, the plans had been leaked somehow. Before the missiles hit here, the former United States of America, the president and several other prominent figures were escorted into and sealed within the Guardian. I was amongst the chosen few, along with several of my fellow CIA agents. Our information would be important in the Reconstruction years.”

He stopped again, resting his hands on his desk. The explosions flooded his mind as he broke out in sweat. It would not be easy, but it had to be done. He took a moment to wipe the sweat from his forehead, then continued typing.

“When we, the chosen few, emerged from the Guardian, all that lay before us was a barren wasteland. But that was the peace of it all. No more weapons, no more soldiers, no more war. With science we managed to rebuild, reinvent everything we had lost. The Guardian expanded into a city, and the population grew steadily. We were able to reestablish a life.”

He thought he heard a car outside. He peered out from his window, only to find darkness in the dead hours of the night. He dismissed it as imagination and continued typing.

“We named our new city Genesis, our new beginning. We established a government of sorts. We elected our representatives, ten of the most distinct and trustworthy people, and they consulted each other until they came to an agreement for the good of our Genesis. With their leadership and our science, we continued to rebuild, and even began to prosper.”

The man stopped to stare at the screen. These next few words would be the only ones of their kind, the only truth in this web of lies they had spun. Who would have thought that one man could bring such a utopia down to its knees?

“It was an era of such peace, such tranquility. But, there were those who were not done with war. Those whose ambitions withstood the death of the world. It all began with one man, Vincent Grave.”

The man could have sworn that he had heard footsteps downstairs. He rose from his seat and walked to the door. His hand held onto the doorknob for a moment while he thought to himself. No one visited this damned apartment. He had bribed the landlord to avoid questions about his identity. There were no loose ends. It was probably just his imagination. He returned to his seat and began typing again.

“Known as ‘Gravestone’ amongst his customers, he alone brought about the disruption of our Genesis. No one knows how he had earned a place in the Decagon, sitting alongside our trusted officials. But rumor has it he assassinated the former representative and fixed the voting with bribes, threats, and other dirty tricks. He has provided firearms to criminals, sanctioned the guilty, and rumor also has it that he is privately funding something known only as the Ark Project.”

“I have yet to find out the details, but I have reason to suspect that it is some sort of super-soldier experimentation program, designed for mass production. If such a thing, a super-soldier, were possible, there would be no stopping him. His greed would lead him beyond the gates of Genesis and to the ends of this rotting Earth....”

Suddenly, the door burst open. The man turned around to be blinded by a flashlight. He dropped dead to the floor.

The assassin approached the computer screen. His client had been right. The computer screen was littered with befalling words. His contract was clear. He saw no place the corpse could have hidden a copy of this data, but his client had stressed the importance of “no evidence”. The assassin drenched the corpse in gasoline, and put a cigar to his mouth. He lit it with his lighter, took a few breathes, then dropped the lighter. The blaze was instant.

The assassin left the apartment to burn, all evidence of “Gravestone” lost.