Joplin and Jax were the first to see him. Rushing outside, they came face to face with Master Sergeant Naylor. He was bruised, bloody, but still alive. The last Doctor in the city was tending to him when Jax and Joplin arrived. "Before you two decide to start rapid firing questions at me, I survived because I got extremely lucky. My left hand may be a broken wreck and right ankle swollen, sprained, whatever... Luck is all I had to save me.
[Twelve Hours Ago]: Naylor lunged out of the way of the Charger-Zeta barreling at him. The Grim Reaper was watching his fight. Naylor didn't care, he was going to see his mission through. He held down the trigger of his service-issued automatic combat shotgun. A rotation of fiery hell and buckshot spreads slammed into the Charger-Zeta at point blank range. Naylor let out his warcry as he unloaded the drum into the creature, killing it. As it slumped over dead, Naylor reloaded and made his way back to his dead Humvee. He scavenged his pistol, a first aid kit, and a canteen of water. Taking the time to reload his drum magazine, Naylor stayed aware of an increasingly bad sign indicating that the fourth kind of Zeta was nearby...Predator-Zetas. Unlike the first three, the Predator-Zetas were far more deadly and the only Zetas capable of psychological damage. They were hunters and stalkers, they would wear their prey out before brutally mauling them. Not waiting around for the Predator-Zeta to find him, Naylor began making his way toward Grand Junction. He'd spend the next twelve hours fighting off only Predator-Zetas, all alone.
[Present Time]: Naylor whips around and showers a Predator-Zeta in dragon's breath, killing it and coating himself in mutated blood. The doctor's assistants hosed down with pressurized rubbing-alcohol. Afterward, his heavy, labored breaths became a smile. "THAT'S RIGHT! Nobody beats the United States Military... not even these freaks." Naylor looked back up at Jax and Joplin, "You two best wake up the others, and Doc... have one of your assistants get the leader of this place. Nobody can stay here after today." Jax and Joplin exchange a glance but rush into the diner and wake up everybody. After about a half-hour, the survivors of Grand Junction, Joplin and Jax's group, and some soldiers gather in the diner.
"Listen up!" Shouts Naylor, silencing the room. "During my hellish-onslaught of a journey to reach Grand Junction, I got a message from U.S Central Command." He holds up a device and it starts to playback the last received message. "This is a priority message for anyone listening. This is U.S. Central Command. As of 2300 hours, our defenses and forces holding back the vast majority of the Zeta-Threat from the West Coast... were annihilated. Any civilians and/or military personnel outside of the Great Plains States/Midwestern Border have thirty-six hours to relocate into Midwestern territory. Failure to do so will see all refusal of anyone attempting to enter. Additionally, as of this message, a Zeta horde numbering over two-million is crossing into Nevada, heading East. This message will repeat... You have thirty-six hours to enter the Midwest or be refused."
As the message ended, everyone was nervously muttering. "That was nearly twelve hours ago... and just to the destination in Missouri I was originally trying to reach with Jax, Joplin, and the rest of their group, it is still fourteen-hours there." Naylor paused for a moment, "I'll say this once and only once. Jax and Joplin's group will be leaving in fifteen-minutes. If you're coming with, bring only essentials! Gasoline, water, first aid, ammunition, and weaponry! Should you choose to stay, may you find peace." As Naylor stopped, people rushed out to their little dens of safety and began packing up. Joplin and Naylor took a short walk. "I take it your Humvee is dead?" Naylor nodded, "It died well, but I found... better wheels." They stop in front of a pair of M35A2 military trucks affectionately nicknamed the "Deuce-and-a-Half". One was a transport truck for personnel, the other a tanker fully loaded up with fresh gasoline.
"Send Rosita and Maddox to get the troop-carrier. I'll drive the tanker with one of my corporals." Said Naylor. Joplin nodded then hurried back to the diner and sent Rosita and Maddox over. Jax helped Joplin fuel up the Power Wagon. "Sleep well?" He asked, only to get a kiss on the cheek and a nod. "We can talk on the road! Help me get these supplies loaded up!" Jax smiled, and eagerly helped her. Not much time passed and the Tanker M35A2's horn blared, signaling for everyone to get moving. Joplin started the Power Wagon with Jax hopping in the truck's cab and Corporal Stephanie opting to ride in them. As the trio drove to the head of the fleet of vehicles, Jax grabbed Joplin's arm. "Get ready to punch it." Joplin looked at him confused, but three little words were enough to send a horrifying chill down her spin...
"They're already here..."