Just a story idea, need input!

The Bunker Intro

The sting of sweat burned my eyes, clouding my vision. The heat of the flames seared my skin as I ran. I felt the weight of my weapon, dragging my arms towards the ground. It took all I had to keep myself moving, to keep living. The gunfire around me, the flash from muzzle tips, the screams of the men and women who I had lived with for the last six months. All of it took its toll on me. It was nothing though, compared to... them. We didn't have a name for them at first because the higher ups back home never saw them as a threat. Everyone here knew about them, but no one would have guessed that it could have gone like this. Eventually here at U.S Base Kharkiv would start referring to them as Mutants, or as some jokers would lovingly call them "Muties".

I ran towards the bunker, the pain in my legs from running was almost unbearable. The Mutants had attacked our base hard, but as far as we knew, we were their only target. Like I said, no one ever thought much of the Mutants in terms of the danger they posed to the world. The short version was they were a genetic mutation caused by nuclear attacks on Russia towards the end of World War 3. The U.S had finally stuck their nose into foreign affairs to the point that Russia had had enough. The worst of it was back home but America always tricks up their sleeves. To everyone's surprise, the Russians' invasion wasn't preceded by bombings or nuclear attacks. Their plan was to take New York, Los Angeles and D.C, all at once, spreading their vast army over the country and eventually taking it. The Americans had other plans, though. A tip from a mole in the Russian government gave them just enough time to evacuate the cities and areas surrounding. They gave them up, only to launch the greatest unmanned attack in human history. Almost every nuclear warhead America had, gone, used to wipe the world's largest country off the face of the earth in a horrifying display of immorality. The landscape was immediately changed and the people who lived through the experience were too. It was like Russia became a completely different planet.

My radio crackled as the commander, Major General Armstead, made an announcement.

" Any soldiers left out there?" He questioned, barely hidden panic in his voice. " If you're still alive, get your ass over to the bunker if you want to stay that way, these Muties won't be able to get to us in there. We'll have to wait it out till backup arrives."

Backup?, I thought. There was no backup. He was obviously trying to pick up what shattered pieces of morale were left, most likely just in hopes of saving himself. The government wasn't going to come rescue a bunch of grunts holed up in a half destroyed Ukrainian city against an enemy that was the product of their mistakes. They didn't care about us. All we could hope for was that in hiding, the Mutants wouldn't stick around long enough to starve us out.

I couldn't take the running anymore. My legs burned and it felt like the breath was being pulled from my body instead of into it. I pushed through the burning street, the smoke from the fires a thick veil ahead of me. Finally, I found an alleyway that wasn't surrounded by burning buildings or cars. I threw myself to the ground behind a dumpster, tucking my weapon into my lap. Pulling out my canteen, I leaned back for a sip of water to wet my burned throat, but there was nothing. How could I have been so stupid? Of course we weren't prepared for this but I should've known better. My breath still ragged, I looked towards the other side of the alley. Soldiers and civilians alike ran through the streets in a frantic attempt to save themselves, followed closely by a pack of Mutants. As a soldier, I felt the urge to go help them, to give them a chance to get away, but we all knew this was just one of those situations where it was every man for himself.

Like a coward, I waited for them to pass, their screams and flying bullets fading into the distance. I picked myself up and moved back towards the street I came from. Leaning against the corner of the building, I scanned the area for a moment before stepping out onto the street. Instantly, I was hit from behind and thrown into the street. A lone Mutant had found me. The smoke covered its face as I heard an inhuman growl emanate from its direction. Quickly I tried to aim my weapon, finger sliding into the trigger well, but I was too late. The Mutant was already on me, fingers trying to wrap around my throat, knocking the gun out of my hands. As I weakly tried to fight it off, my eyes widened in fear and disgust. It looked like a young boy, no more than ten, but its teeth were like needles and there were hundreds of them. The skin that used to be its lips was gone, revealing its almost black gums. Its complexion was milky white, but I could see veins running through it, only they weren't blue, they were neon green. It growled and screamed at me, its teeth inches from my face as I jammed my forearm into its neck. The look in its green eyes was dead, with nothing behind them, as if it wasn't alive. The pupils were almost snake-like, giving an already monstrous figure an even more intimidating appearance.

The Mutants hadn't been observed to have language skills anymore and this one wasn't any different. It mindlessly grappled against my neck, trying to take bites out of me at the same time. The strength of its bony hands was unnatural, especially considering its figure. I felt my body weaken, my vision blurring as I desperately thought of a way to get it off of me. The fingers of my other hand brushed up against a chunk of rubble. This was it, I thought, pulling it into my grip with the tips of my fingers. The Mutant's teeth chattered in frustration at my resistance. Giving up on my neck, it furiously gripped the sides of my head in an attempt to hit it against the hard ground. In a second of adrenaline, I brought the piece of rubble into the side of its head, throwing it off onto its side. Without sparing another moment, I threw myself on top of it, bashing the rubble against its skull, time after time. I did it until I couldn't feel the monster struggle under me anymore.

I keeled over onto the hard ground onto my back, my chest rising and falling with each sought after breath. I had never dealt with one of them up close and I had never seen one of them this young or violent before. The only thing that kept me conscious as I faded in and out was the near constant screams and gunfire echoing throughout the city. After a few minutes that felt like an eternity, I mustered just enough strength to start moving again. I slowly trudged over to where my weapon had been thrown, lying on its side. The world spun when I bent over to pick it up, a nauseous, disgusting feeling attacking my stomach and brain. Knowing my body wouldn't allow me to run, all I could manage was a limping plod in the direction of the bunker.

I didn't realize how close I had been, it was only a few streets away from where I was. Within a few utterly exhausting moments, it was in sight. The bunker had been built into the side of one of Kharkiv's destroyed government buildings. The addition was hasty and cheap but focused on underground survival. It took me three more painstaking minutes to make it to the door, which had been made from wood taken from a nearby home. I tried to open it but it wouldn't budge, forcing me to knock and wait for a response. The door cracked open, the chain lock still engaged. Another soldier in gear stood on the other side, blackness from the smoke he undoubtedly ran through to get here obscuring everything but his eyes.

"Who are you? Were you followed?" He inquired aggressively, waning strength behind his stoic facade.

It took me a moment to speak. "Corporal Harper, 13th Infantry," I blurted. "I killed one a few streets over, almost got me, I didn't see anymore on my way here" The man closed the door before unlocking it and pulling me inside.

It was a small room inside, filled with refugees taken in from the horror outside. Men, women and children lined the walls as they waited to be let into the bunker. There was a huge metal door that took up almost the entirety of the wall opposite the entrance. It was like a bank vault, with two men on either side with guns in hand. The man from the entrance led me to the bunker door.

"He's one of us," He told the soldiers. One of them nodded, turning to reach the handle of the door. One of the refugees piped up. "Why does he get to go in before us?," The woman screamed. "We got here first!"

The other guard wasted no time in his answer. "Because he was just out there fighting to keep you idiots alive! Now sit the hell down and wait your turn!"

The woman reluctantly sat down, placing her arms around two small children and gripping them tightly. Her eyes never left me. The soldiers escorted me through the door, instructing me to go to the bottom of the stairs. When I reached the bottom of the winding stairwell, there was a man with a clipboard and glasses. He looked up as I approached, the light behind him giving an almost halo-ish glow.

"Name?" He asked, pen to the page.

"Jonas Harper."

"Rank?"

"Corporal."

"Are you alone?"

"Yes?"

"Were you bitten?"

"No."

"Alright," He said, opening the door behind him. He pulled a stamp from the pocket of his coat and motioned for me to step forward. He pressed the ink into my hand. When he pulled it away, I saw the number 104.

"That's going to fade, so remember that number. It's who you are from now on."

I walked through the doorway, a loud sound echoing through the hallway as he locked it behind me. This is it, I thought. This is my story of survival. My name is Jonas Harper, number 104 of the Kharkiv bunker.