[ IP ] Describe Operation Eastern Trident , the USMC 's successful counter offensive against the zombie apocalpypse , aimed at New York City , through the eye of PFC . Johnathan Rhodes , Ft : Omega , 2nd Platoon , 3rd Infantry Regiment , II Marine Expeditionary unit .

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 Private Rhodes cringed at the slow movers ripped apart a fallen Civ. `` Staff Sergeant, you said Fleet Week was gon na be nothing but hot strange. This is not what I had in mind!'' he yelled back at his Platoon Sergeant. First squad, second platoon had long since lost contact with the rest of the Battalion and the rest of 22nd MEU. 
 
 The gruff Staff Sergeant Clarke with his thick regulation moustache chewed back at his underling, `` Shut your cake hole Rhodes and return fire!'' His own service rifle had been knocked aside by a lunging freak. No matter how hard he choked, the addled bastard would not go down. 
 
 Lance Corporal Simpson looked over his shoulder between shots, `` Use your bayonet, Staff Sergeant. Have n't you ever seen the movies? The shows? You got ta take out the brains.'' 
 
 Clarke rolled his eyes, `` This is bullshit. No such thing as,'' he stabbed downward into the geek's head, `` Zombies.'' The gore covered body fell to the ground, permitting Clarke the opportunity to retrieve his weapon. He attached the nearly foot long blade to the locking stud on the front of his rifle. `` When you two assclowns get a chance, fix bayonets!'' 
 
 Simpson shouted over the overloud popcorn noise of 5.56mm JHP, `` Believe in it or not Staff Sergeant, they're here for us either way.'' 
 
 They had started the patrol through the deserted streets of New York after Fleet Week had been called off due to some disease outbreak and riots. Despite *posse comitatus*, the brass had still sent them in as the closest large reaction force. Lieutenant Danse had fallen back on Afghanistan and Iraq tactics, small unit maneuver measured in thirteen man squads. 
 
 Now they were only three left. Most of their number had become unfortunate geek food. They could n't bite through cammies or body armor, human jaws just are n't that strong and teeth are n't that sharp. But given enough of a swarm… well, necks and hands were fair game. Corporal Manse, however, decided he could n't handle the apocalypse and chose to cash his own chips. 
 
 Clarke gritted his teeth, `` Let's go motivators. We need to rally back at the FOB or the LZ. Either way, we are gone.'' He reached down and ripped Private Kahl's dogtag off his neck. He was the latest geek victim. Clarke did n't believe it and he did n't want to defile the fallen Marine's corpse, but he plunged the pointy end of his weapon into the poor lad's skull just to be on the safe side. 
 
 `` We're moving!'' he shouted as they ran down a deserted alley. Every few meters one of the trio would take a knee and pop off a fifty-yard head shot. At that range it was normally hard to miss, but they were all fueled with mixture of adrenaline and fear. Both could foul a shot. 
 
 They ran towards Central Park and felt the hum and rush of wind as a AH-1Z Viper Attach Chopper rounded the corner of a building. Clarke heard the 20mm nose gun spin up, `` Hit the deck!'' he cried out. Above them the piercing rounds of the M197 triple-barreled Gatling cannon lanced through the air ripping their pursuers to shreds. Clarke could feel the heat and over-pressure as the pilots unleashed their Hellfire air-to-surface missiles on the throngs of undead. 
 
 Staff Sergeant Clarke rolled over, `` Thank sweet baby Jesus for Combined Arms.'' He stood as the Viper sat there hovering. Behind them a pair of UH-1W transports set down, their crews calling for them to board. All three Marines scrambled across the deck while their Angels of Death hovered above, providing cover from the burning undead who still plodded on. Occasional burps of gunfire signaled more geeks cut down. 
 
 Aboard the first transport, Clarke was handed a headset. 
 
 \\\Are you part of Charlie Company? 
 
 `` Yes,'' Clarke shouted above the noise of the wash, `` We're what's left of first squad, second platoon. Did you pick up any more of our Platoon?'' 
 
 The crewman nodded, \\\We got most of your platoon out. You're the missing squad. We're taking you back to the MEU for regroup and resupply. It's really something, you guys… surviving out here for a day like this. 
 
 Clarke nodded in agreement, `` Yeah. Tell me about it.'' He fought to hold back the tears as they made the coastal flight back to their ship. 
 
 

