They planned on driving us into the infested grounds. It was the majority of Nevada now. I wasn't looking forward to when we hit Vegas. That city is huge, and it has to be just crawling with zombies. For now though we just have small dessert towns to clear out. They suggested we split up, but we all declined. We're not letting the government break us apart again.

"Find a place to set up shop for the day. Take survivors there and once you have the two clear, we'll drop in and pick them up." One of the army men told us.

"What about supplies?" Balz asked.

"We'll send you in with some. Tomorrow night when you're stopped at a rest point we'll drop in some more." He replied.

"And mobility? Are you expecting us to walk through everything?" I asked.

"I've gotten that taken care of." Ricky said, "You did tell me to give Mike his Camaro back."

I looked over to Kuza and he grew the most sinful smile. He's a simple man. All he needs in life is a weapon, his woman, and a fast car. He likes his vapes every once and a while too. We all need a good smoke from time to time. I guess I'm not much different. Give me a victim, a hole to fuck, and a cigarette and I'll be happy. Just two months ago that list would've included Ricky. Funny how fast things change.

We reached the area on the outside of the town where the army had set up. The general approached us. Well, Ricky, because he was the one with the FBI badge. The rest of us looked like no good Satan worshipers.

"This isn't your jurisdiction." The general told Ricky.

"My jurisdiction covers threats against humanity. It was the FBI's fault this happened anyways. Besides, your men are too scared to go into that mess, so be thankful we're here." He sneered.

The general eased up and simply walked away. Pussy. He should be fucking thankful we're here, even if they're sending us in because they think our lives aren't worth the air we breathe. I don't give a shit as so long as I get to kill shit. We all loaded out of the convoy that brought us here. Another vehicle was opened and a few more agents stepped out. They brought out gun crates and we were told to go pick our poison.

The agents watched us with judgement but I didn't give a shit. Yes, I'm a six foot tall goth in trampy clothes. I could also kill you with a fucking spoon so don't judge at first sight. There were carbines, rifles, shotguns, snipers. I was a little more interested in the hand guns and knives. Those, I work best with.

"Where'd you dig them up?" An agent asked Ricky, in referring to us.

There was a beautiful Smith & Wesson handgun. I picked it up, loading the barrel as I listened to the conversation.

"Instead of citizen soldiers they're criminal soldiers." He responded.

"You created a real like suicide squad." The female agent said.

"Pretty much." He responded, "Maybe if this goes well we can start using them for more shit."

I loaded in the pistol in my hand and daringly pointed it at him. It gave me a sense of satisfaction to see his face targeted by a gun in my hand. "A deal's a deal. This is all we agreed to."

He didn't flinch because he knew I wouldn't shoot. I lowered the gun again and slipped it into the back of my jeans. Ricky leaned against the convoy I stood in and looked up at me as he replied, "Let's be honest. You're going to kill again after this and you'll end up in ADX again. Would you rather that rot away in that cell, or get to see the world killing national enemies?"

I stepped down from the truck and seethed, "I am a national enemy. How would your precious America react if they knew you were giving away soldiers' jobs to serial killers?"

"They'd never know. In the media, we'd credit your successes to decorated soldiers. The public would think you were still locked up in ADX, just like they think I'm six feet under." He said.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "What are you talking about?"

Ricky pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He handed it over to me to show me a news story from a few weeks ago. It read of our capture, and said we killed Ricky and his sister while we were on the lamb. Why would they post that when it's not true? I mean we all know the media was all lies anyways. But, why this?

"Have you ever seen Men In Black?" He asked me.

"Yeah, what about it?" I asked.

"You know how they erase people from the system and come up with lies for why they disappeared? Like how K was supposedly in a coma? When you get deep enough into the FBI you have to do that too. So they put out a fake story on me to make me into a criminal. That way I could go under cover to profile you and the others. I never had sex tapes, I never was a prostitute, and I didn't grow up in the trailer park. My father is a secret service man and my mom is a translator for the army. They started training me for law enforcement from a young age."

More lies. More fucking lies. He went to these extents to hurt me?

"What about Graham? And your old partner?" I asked, "All those people you killed? The people we killed together?"

"Think back to all the people I killed. They were all criminals. The innocence, you killed. When we cleared out that hospital, I had my boys evacuate the real patience and they filled it with death row inmates." Ricky explained, "And Graham and I were never married. He was just another agent that needed to disappear. Same goes for my old partner."

"Are you even gay?" I scoffed.

"Yes. That part is true. I also wasn't lying when I told you that I love you." He responded.

The word "love" coming out of his mouth just angered me. He uses love as a tool, not an emotion. That takes a true monster. I didn't say anything else and just stood there steaming. Ricky sighed, letting the conversation die. I'm still almost in denial that he could ever do this to me. I thought my life was clear cut, but it was all a lie. He was controlling me like a fucking puppet. I am not your puppet.

Everyone else finished sorting themselves out with weapons and ammo. They individually started to jump back down from the convoy. Ryan put his hand on my shoulder to help him get down from the elevated truck. As he touched down on the ground, he didn't take his hand off my shoulder. He glanced over at Ricky to see if he was looking our way, which he was. Then Ryan did something that might've shocked me just as much as Ricky; He leaned in and kissed me.

Something in me told me to kiss him back. Ryan is as straight as the day is long. I know that as a fact, and he's asexual. What is he doing?! I don't know but I went with it for some reason. He was a pretty good kisser for someone who hates romance.

As he pulled away from me he patted Ricky on the shoulder, "You weren't the only one lying in the house."

With that, Ryan walked away. He went to talk with the others. Ricky had the most fucking broken and shocked look on his face. Yeah, fucker, now you know what it feels like to be backstabbed. I knew Ryan didn't care about me romantically; He was just an amazing friend that helped me get back at the man that broke my heart.

"Sooo," Mike sauntered over to us, "About my Camaro."

"O'Neil, take care of that." He told one of the others agents, "I... I need to make a call."

Ricky walked away from us and disappeared behind one of the other trucks. Deep deep down I felt bad for hurting him, but he fucking ripped my heart into a million little pieces. Then he set those pieces on fire and fed them to a rabid dog. One simple kiss is small compared to all he put me through.

The other agent lead us to a convoy much longer than the others. He opened up the back of it, revealing several Harley Davidsons. Oh, yes please. A Camaro very similar to the one he had before was in the back. It looked to be a newer model, and there was no red on it. I wonder if zombies are colorblind like dogs or...? Fuck if I know. Would color really matter for attracting zombies? The noise of the engine will attract them before color ever will.

Army men walked out the bikes for us. Then they lowered out the Camaro and the keys were handed over to Kuza. He leaned over the hood and pretty much hugged the car. "She's beautiful."

"I think he loves the car more than you." Ryan-Ashley said to Rayne.

"I think so too." She muttered.

Ryan was now standing next to me. I looked over at him and he had a blank expression. Does he really want to act like that didn't happen?

"Thanks." I told him.

"You're welcome." He replied, "Just so we're clear I'm still straight but that fucker had that coming to him."

I laughed, "Thank you. I'm going to get even more revenge as this mission goes on. Hey, though, where did you learn how to kiss like that?"

He sighed, "I didn't always hate love and I wasn't always against humanity. I wasn't crazy until I met her."

"Honestly, I don't think I was truly insane until I met Ricky." I admitted.

He walked up to one of the Harley's and threw his leg over it, "Love is the true killer. C'mon, we've got shit to shoot."

I ran my hands down one of the other motorcycles. It was pure black, like my soul. I sat down and turned on the engine, feeling the pure of it. Damn, it felt amazing. I glanced around and realized Ricky wasn't here. I had a feeling he'd skip out on us. Fuck him.

"You're starting at the north east corner of the state!" The general said over the sound of machines, "Your first stop is a town called Wells. Let Mike lead. He has the GPS. There's also a radio in the Camaro if you need help."

"You ready for this?" Ryan asked me.

"As ready as I'll ever be."