Brandon looked at the steaming vehicle. He looked back at where Boston was, or should have been. Maybe he could only absorb a few rads, not like he didn't have cancer already.
He opened the trunk, put on his backpack, slung his rifle over his shoulder and picked up the duffel bag. He then began walking away from the car. He stopped, bringing his hand to his mouth, breaking into a coughing fit. He crouched low as he continued coughing. As he stopped he took his gloved hand away from his mouth, spitting on the ground. He wiped the blood from his lips with his glove and looked at the small splatter of blood on the ground. He stood up and continued walking.

The duffel bag hit the ground and he leaned on his knees, feeling saliva rising from his throat into his mouth, "So much for just a few..."
The contents of his stomach was then expelled onto the ground.

There really isn't any continuity to these, just throwing out ideas, really.


Brandon set the small rag down, reaching to his phone, "Hello?"
"Brandon, this is James?"
"Kay. Do I need to go to New York."
"Well, as it seems, at the moment, New York is one of the worst places for you to be."
"Why is that?"
"People are looking for you. I have a hideaway you can use until the heat's off you. Chopper in route."
"... Umm... Kay.
A shout came from across the house, "Help!"
"Gotta go James."
Brandon slipped the phone back into his pocket and ran to the stairs. He stopped as his foot hit the first step. He turned around, running to the living room.

"Skye!"
Brandon looked around the room, five men, four aiming their MP5's at Brandon, the fifth holding a Beretta to the girl's head, "Ah... Skytzoe. Who doesn't know about you? You saved the world. But you killed. Millions."
"Don't do anything to her."
"Did you even think before pulling the trigger? Even though they weren't the same, they still had families that cared!"
"They cared too much. There was nothing I could do."
"Bullshit! You could have just waited until you made it!"
"I didn't know if it was going to work. I didn't even know if it was going to work a second time."
"My brother, father... They both got infected... You killed them both, I saw it on the T.V.!"
"Are you really that ignorant?"
"Are you that ignorant? Of course you are. Or else you wouldn't have done it. There's a lot more people looking for you. But who can you get revenge on someone who doesn't fear death? Take out the person closest to them, of course."
"Do anything to her and you're all dead."
The hammer of the Beretta was flicked back by the man's thumb. Brandon looked around, then reached over to a table, picking up a superball. The man chuckled, "How can you save someone with a bouncy ball? Go ahead. Throw it, see what happens."
Brandon clenched his hand around the ball, feeling it compress slightly in his grip. He pushed the silver-lens glasses up on his nose a slight bit with the bows. He cocked his fist back and hurled the ball. The ball soared past the man's head, just by inches, "You missed!"
The ball bounced off the wall as Brandon ducked, the ball hitting the lightswitch, the room turning pitch black. The ball soared back across the room, knocking the Beretta out of the man's hand. There was the sound of a slap, then four clicks. A few moments passed, then the light turned back on. Skye threw open the door and ran out of the hall. The man picked up his gun, looking around, "Where did you go?"
The ball slowly rolled and tapped the man's toe. He looked down, between his leg he saw the toecap of a DC sneaker. Before he could turn, he felt a wire being pulled around his neck, "Now, I know you learned a lesson from this, but the unfortunate thing is this..."
Brandon pulled the wire tight, completely constricting the man's windpipe, "This lesson won't help you."
A few seconds passed, and Brandon let the body fall to the ground. Brandon reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, "I'm coming over."

James Fraust and Brandon Bogar interview.

(I means interviewer, J means James, and B means Brandon.)

I:So thank you both for coming today.
B: For sure.
J: Welcome.

I:And you both work for the U.N.?
J: Yeah, special forces unit.

I: So what does the United Nations Special Forces do?
B: The best answer would be to make sure that things that aren't supposed to be there...Well... Aren't. And also to find out why things are in places where they aren't supposed to be.

I: And how do you do that?
J: Tactics vary.
B: Indeed.

I: Alright, but what are the tactics in a "usual" situation, if there is such a thing?
J: Guns.
B: Lots and lots of them.

I: So the U.N.S.F. is a primarily offensive unit?
B: You could say that..
J: Best defense is a good offense, and vice versa.


I: So, do you think there is some kind of doomsday weapon?
J: Think? There is.

I:There is?
B: Yep.

I:What is it?
J: It could be a number of things, vacuum bomb, chemical bomb, nuclear bombs, list goes on.
B: Indeed.

I: So you only know what it might be?
J: Yeah, but we do have a pretty good assumption of where it is.

I: Where?
B: Russia, somewhere around there. Russians be crazy.

I: You mentioned nuclear weapons, but wouldn't the use of nuclear weapons be a violation of the Ge-
J: Doesn't matter. Most nuclear powers have enough weapons to destroy at least half the world.
B: And in addition to that, the only reason a nuclear weapon could be used would be an act of desperation.

I: Like what?
B: World War IV.

I: World war IV? What about World War III?
J: You have to be kidding me.
B: The zombies. It's known in the U.N. as World War III. Fits the definition.

I: So, why didn't anyone get arrested for the use of nuclear weapons during the war?
B:Their applications were accepted.

I: Applications?
J: See, the U.N. doesn't want anyone to know this, but the use of nuclear weapons can be authorized if the situation is severe enough.

I: And during they war...
B: The situations were severe enough.