Once Mighty

A man completely passed out was being driven out in the middle of nowhere. Night had set yet the men in military uniform didn't seem to care. The man had a completely mangled arm that looked strange being a dark purple color. He had pants and no shirt. His stomach seemed badly bruised as well.

Suddenly the group stopped at the edge of a city that was oddly quiet except for strange growls coming from the shadowy figures standing in the middle of the streets. Despite it being dark there was no light coming from any of the windows or anywhere to be seen except some streetlamps that seemed to turn on automatically.

"Drop him and wake him up. We need to feed him the laxatives."

"You know I can't help but feel this is a little cruel."

"Well, think of it this way. He killed and separated many families and made everyone's life hell. Now he is just getting retribution."

"Can't we just kill him and release him from his misery?"

"Please what he did was way worse that a little torture. At least he gets a chance to live."

*sigh* "I guess you are right, let's just get this over with."

The man dumped some water on the unconscious man's face waking him up.

"Huh- W-What... Wha-t-t n-now..."

"Eat."

The drowsy man didn't have the strength to resist as several pills were forced down his throat. After he swallowed the pills he was left on the ground as the two military men boarded the car and left just as quickly as they came.

Luckily he was just far enough that the wandering zombies weren't attracted by the nasty sounds coming from the man who was suffering loudly. Maybe the stench helped somewhat as everything that could smell came out of his body at a rapid pace into his trousers.

***

Back at the warehouse, the main leader was having a small conference.

"Patrick, I think we could have used him. I mean although he was crazy we could have kept him locked up to do experiments for us right?"

Another man was quick to deny him, "We tried controlling him before and he just gets bored and sleeps all day while we make even less progress."

Patrick frowned as well and ended the conversation, "If he could cause this much damage to the world while under constant surveillance I don't think we can do much about him escaping. Besides we don't have the resources to continue with such frivolous ideas such as experimenting. We need to set up a base that can withstand and feed the people who have lost everything so suddenly.

This man was crazy, but he knew how to prepare. We first have to work on clearing the city and saving people. The survivors can work on clearing the forest and setting up a suitable area for farming. This area can be left clear as it will have to wait until the snow melts.

That damn idiot chose the half-month just before it snows to release his masterpiece. Because of this, we should make sure that the main focus should be collecting any and all supplies from the city. Hopefully collecting the food from the city and what he stored here can be enough to hold us through the winter."

Everyone nodded solemnly as they all knew how bad winter gets. Soon the topics were diverted to the short term and how they would deal with the incoming influx of survivors they were sure to get.

***

"Ugghh-"

Max could feel his stomach rumbling as his lips felt completely dry. The sun was already out, but despite the comfortable warmth he should feel, instead all he felt was a burning sensation all over where he was bruised and beaten.

Sitting up he could clearly see how terrible condition he was in now. Despite not being cut, his skin was broken by the sledgehammer leaving his right arm in a dry red mess that was either covered in dry blood or instead showing his purple bruised skin.

"They could have at least left me my sword..." He looked at his waist sadly as his sword was his masterpiece he had spent every moment of his youth creating. "Not like I can use it anymore anyway..."

He had originally made the sword to be held in both hands since he felt that looked coolest, still, he had trained to be used by his right hand exclusively if the situation ever arose he needed to use his left for something else. Now his least trained arm was the only one that could make basic movements.

Slowly doing his best to stand up he quickly realized he had clearly broken a rib or two as bending over felt like he would crack something. All he could do was look at the midday sun as a foul stench suddenly became more apparent as his senses returned. It was only when he fully stood up that he felt a slimy feeling going down his pant leg.

"Fuck..."

Soon a completely naked Max was standing at the edge of a city that was eerily quiet even for this place that didn't get much traffic.

"Hah- those idiots didn't even care to check for extra weapons. Extra boot knife to the rescue!" As he raised his basic survival knife as if it was a godsend, it truly hit him. As the cold wind hit his naked body he could truly understand what his situation was. Naked, clothes filled with feces. Only a pair of boots to serve as his last scrap of dignity.

The apocalypse that was supposed to be his playground. Now turned into a hellscape. He couldn't even fight properly. Almost everything he prepared was taken from him. Even this apocalypse that he was supposed to be the starter of wasn't even done by him yet was blamed on him!

Falling to his knees he could only look at the ground in sadness. As tears threatened to hit the ground. He truly wondered what could have left him like this...

***

Camp P was officially started on the morning of the day after all hell broke loose. P for the new military leader of the camp, Patrick. Unfortunately, no one could convince him otherwise so the name became the semi-official name that would probably stick.

The men who had been training for fighting had now officially started clearing the city at a rapid rate. They were easily able to search the nearby buildings and quickly locate the large survivor groups that had mostly formed due to Max's journey across the city.

Among the people who were teaching how to fight at the training camp were several men who had vast knowledge on how to deal with apocalypse situations. There were so many of them due to Max's presence and the military's belief that if he was going to start an apocalypse, even on accident, he would most likely start by transforming the town he was in first.

Now they were very ready and had already set up several quarantine sections to separate the maybe infected and also to have a place to shoot anyone who showed unusual signs. They had to be prepared to shoot those even if they hadn't turned and were only suspected of turning.

People were coming in by the hundreds as they were quickly set up in large military camps that were crudely built. Still, no one really complained as most were happy to escape the hell of yesterday's events. Most who were dissatisfied were those who had only seen luxury and no longer had much power to say anything anyway.

In the meeting room, several higher-ranked military men were having another meeting...

"HAHA! Things are going better than expected! Maybe in less than half a month we can completely clear the area!"

"Unfortunately most of those men are new recruits and use too much ammo. Although we can clear this town with what we have, I fear we may struggle in the future to deal with the incoming enemies from other towns. Although the dead rot, with winter, coming I don't know how much we can trust these Z's to rot. Especially since we have no idea how 'dead' that guy made them."

"Indeed. I believe we should instead slow our advancement and focus on accuracy. We cannot guarantee we will receive much support from others."

"Well, that is exactly why I reported to the general that it would take a month to make this place a complete safe zone. Besides most healthy people can survive two days without food or water. If they have water, a month without food will leave them not looking great but alive.

So I think we should focus on the biggest problem we seem to be having. Housing. That idiot only left enough space for the troops themselves to be able to stay inside, he didn't make enough for the common people."

Everyone nodded as several people were called to make plans on how places should be built and whether they should instead move everyone back into the city making a safe zone where they can keep people. They talked even more about how much of a problem the water is. No one knows how the virus spread so was water from the city even safe? From the river? What is safe and how can they know?

Soon a decision was made so the water from the river would be bottled and given to a select group of people. These people would be the ones without any special skills or too old. They would be told that they would be put in special quarantines for 'safety' reasons and be given above-average living conditions.

After a week if none of the test subjects have anything wrong the river water would become the main source of hydration in the near future. Of course, the water would all be boiled for safety. They all came to the conclusion that it would probably be safe either way so why not be extra careful?

Soon plans were quickly being implemented as a complete safe zone in some apartments was being prepared to move many of those who didn't need to be quarantined. The water from the nearby river was being brought in large water tanks.

***

Having sat under the sun for an entire day Max was dehydrated, exhausted, and most of all in pain. Despite most of his pain being forcefully blocked, most doesn't mean all, and when the entirety of your arm is in pain all over, it barely helps.

It was only now that the sun was setting did he finally get moving. Slow shambling steps similar to many zombies themselves. Soon his movements attracted a single zombie. This zombie took one step... then another... soon it was charging straight at him!

Most zombies turned without warning and still looked completely human despite their unusual actions and undead eyes. The only real indicator at this point was the bloody clothes. After turning, the infected pukes up a large amount of blood before becoming mindless. Although he was unsure why this happened, he had seen many who followed him become infected and go through this process within the hour. Some took less than a minute to turn while others seemed to be fine the entire time until they suddenly attacked a former comrade.

Max, having seen this before and having plenty of experience, calmly lifted his survival knife and dropped it onto the zombie's skull with great accuracy. The zombie's momentum still carried it toppling Max over despite slowly losing the ability to attack. Max could only silently scream as he felt the pain of several ribs moving in ways they shouldn't be moving.

As there were barely any zombies in this area no other zombie was attracted allowing him to slowly undress the male zombie taking its' clothes. Unfortunately, all of it was too small, so without much choice, he quickly made a sling for his useless arm. The sky quickly darkened as the lampposts turned on as his only source of light to barely make something usable.

The once mighty scientist who changed the world now nothing but a broken man.