Summary: Now Marine Brad Colbert is having to face the zombie apocalypse, will Rick Grimes' group of survivors be hostile targets or friendlies? AU Brad/Nate
Warning: Brad/Nate slash pairing, don't like don't read. Nothing explicit at all. And this is based on the fictional characters as portrayed in the TV series Generation Kill and in no way the real Marines who are heroes.
Chapter 1: First Response
Beaufort County, South Carolina was their objective. Marine Corps Air Station Beaufort (MCAS Beaufort) is an air base that held Navy and Marine personnel, as well as being home to six Marine Corps F/A-18 Hornet fighter-attack squadrons plus one Navy F/A-18 strike fighter squadron. Brad knew he just had to get his men those three hundred miles and they would be back into a world he knew. There was no reason to go to South Carolina, or the whole Southern United States, as far as Brad was concerned but that was currently his AO. He was still trying to wrap his head around how things went from bad to so much worst so quickly. Well he was a Marine. He was used to making due.
Master Sargent Bradley Colbert was supposed to be taking it easy, slowing down, and getting ready to get out of the Marine Corps. He had already served four tours overseas in Iraq and Afghanistan. He was teaching a wilderness survival course in the outskirts of Atlanta, Georgia to a group of junior Marines and a few officers who needed the course credit to then move on to desk jobs. The two week exercise had gone well, only two Marines "died," but all twelve had passed. He didn't know most of the Marines in his course with the exception of Staff Sargent Evan Stafford who was his first choice to teach with him. He knew Evan was planning on leaving 1st Marine Reconnaissance Battalion soon as well and didn't want him on another deployment before then.
Most of the junior and senior Marines knew him though, Brad "The Iceman" Colbert, they had read both books and seen the TV show. Plus with his reputation in the Recon community, most of the junior Marines looked up to him like he was sort of a super Marine. The officers were split though, some saw him as disparaging all Marine Corps Officers, others knew the men he served under and completely understood. None of them expressed these feelings to him of course
They returned from their last hike through the woods back to their small satellite base camp and that's when it started to go downhill. The Capitan overseeing the Camp ran out to greet them looking hysterical.
"You can't enter! This whole area is now quarantined!" The Captain had a bandage wrapped around his left arm and was holding his side arm in the other hand.
Brad stepped forward his hands raised, in a gesture for the man to lower his gun.
"Sir, may I ask for a sit-rep?" Brad said in his most agreeable affirmative voice, the man was clearly very upset.
"Lieutenant Mitchel started to get sick a week ago. He starting running a fever, it got to over 103! Doc said that temp should have fried his brain. He tried cooling him down, cold water, ice, cold packs, meds, nothing worked. I called to Evac him yesterday, but they said response time would be over seven hours. There is some sort of national emergency. Some kind of Swine-Flu or something everyone is getting sick, people are rioting in the streets. Mitchel died. At least we thought he did. Doc left his body in the infirmary while we waited for the Evac. Then a while later Mitchel up and walks out of the infirmary! The Doc ran over to check him out and Mitchel takes a bite outta the Doc's neck! Kills him! Guess the fever made him go crazy! He starts chewing on the Doc more so I had to shoot him! I had too! I shot him right in the heart and he didn't go down! Ran towards me instead I unloaded a whole clip into his chest! He bites my arm, tried to kill me like the Doc. I pulled away, ran and reloaded. This time I got him in the head and he went down!" The Captain was crying by the end of it.
The satellite base if you could even call it that was small. After the students and instructors went out into the woods, the only people left at headquarters were Capitan Matthews, Lieutenant Mitchel and the Medic Doc Smith. Now two of them were apparently dead, and the Captain was not faring much better. Brad could see his cheeks flushed from fever and shaking with chills. Brad kept his distance from the man. If Mitchel did have some communicable disease the Capitan was now infected. He gave Stafford a look that tried to communicate this. He thankfully got the message and told the students to get back. Captain Matthews then seemed to pass out. Brad stepped back trying to access the situation and the best approach to help the man, but before he could another officer Capitan Donaldson ran towards him.
"Failing to render aid, I'll see you Court Martialed Colbert!" Donaldson said as he bent down towards him. Matthews then sprang up and ripped out Donaldson's throat with his teeth.
Brad using his M4 put one shot through Matthews and Donaldson's heads.
"Supply room now, MOPP Level 4 posture! Double time it!" Brad ordered. All the Marines ran to towards the supply room/armory. Stafford maintained order passing out the gas masks, MOPP packs, gloves and boots, Brad picking up the rear. After getting suited up Brad left his Marines with Stafford and went to search the main building that housed the infirmary. While the mask did cut down some visibility he was trained to observe with it.
He found the Doc's body, the shoulder had looked it had been gnawed on and the stomach was spilling all over the floor from another mauling. After making sure the other rooms were secure, he made his way to the radio. He used every emergency frequency he knew, finally one came through. He couldn't relay an outgoing message but one incoming message was loud and clear. Atlanta and surrounding areas were considered a hot zone for Wildfire and code Red 7 was in effect.
The Military were going to bomb Atlanta. They were only a few miles outside the city. Brad had to get his men out of there. Going back outside, he relayed some of this information to his men, mainly that they needed to leave the area as soon as possible. Working together they retrieved their personal duffels, grabbed medical supplies, MREs, and raided the armory. Loading down two giant military transport vehicles they were ready to leave. Brad gathered his two remaining officers Second Lieutenant Mike Jones and First Lieutenant Bobby Walker and filled them in on all the information including the code Red 7. He then told them of his escape plan. They would make their way to the next closest Marine base in South Carolina, only half a day's drive. They would split the enlisted men, five with Brad and Walker and six with Stafford and Jones. They would drive with Brad's vehicle on point. Luckily two of the enlisted men had their licenses to drive large vehicles. All the men had tried to get a signal for their cellphone, the ones that did got a busy service signal.
Nate tried Brad's cell again and he didn't answer. He was probably out of range. Retired Capitan Nathaniel Fick USMC was currently in traffic but slowly crawling his way towards Brad's location in his rental car. It was finally his exit and the back roads were less crowed. He could finally see the road that lead to the training school.
This was supposed to be his vacation time. He'd pick Brad up from his two weeks "bonding with nature" as he called it then they would relax, see the sights, and then maybe head towards Florida. Brad needed a beach to function. But instead he showed up at the hotel and on every station there is warning of an outbreak. He actually saw the news images of people going crazy, biting and eating people. That's when he packed his things back into his car and headed towards Brad. He knew the military was probably handling this but he didn't really have any other plans or somewhere to go. He tried contacting his parents they didn't answer, his sister either.
He was met on the dirt road by a large military transport vehicle, three men in MOPP suits jumped out guns pointed towards him. He exited his car slowly.
"Capitan Nate Fick USMC!" He shouted with his arms raised.
"Nate, have you been bit or scratched!" A familiar muffled voiced asked.
"No, Brad?" He asked.
The figure nodded. "What the hell are you doing here?" Brad asked rhetorically. Nate was early he wasn't supposed to get to Atlanta until Saturday, it was Friday.
Luckily one of the men thought to bring an additional MOPP suit, probably for himself but he handed it over to Nate, who gratefully put it on. After exchanging all the information they had with each other, Brad found another route using rural and farm roads to avoid the traffic. The only problem was that it would take much longer. Nate got his car off the road, and put his suitcase in the back of Brad's vehicle. They had been on the road for about an hour when they saw the helicopters and jets passing above them going towards Atlanta.
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