Apocalypse: You Treated Me as a Backup, Now Kneel and Beg

Zombies surrounded the city. I fought my way through the infection zone alone and got the vaccine back.

All of humanity called me their savior.

But at the medal ceremony, my boss and fiancée Emily Johnson pushed me away: "You're covered in blood, stand aside. Can't you learn from David?"

"Too afraid to even face killing - that's what civilized men should look like."

For the sake of being "civilized," I locked away my guns and willingly became her doormat for three years. I took countless bullets for her, only to be criticized for not being gentle enough.

Until the virus mutated. To save David, I crushed a Tyrant's head with my bare hands right there.

She held the trembling David and slammed the table, yelling: "If you don't fix this violent streak, you can forget about being the Director's husband. Apologize to David."

The vaccine I risked my life for - she used it all to please David.

I removed the magazine and tossed my medal into the ruins.

"Give this position to whoever you want."

Chapter One

The Freedom Wings Medal hit the marble floor.

The entire banquet hall fell silent.

Emily's face was full of disbelief.

David, in her arms, flinched, seemingly startled by the sound.

"Nicholas, what kind of drama are you putting on?"

Emily walked over in her heels. She kicked the medal on the floor, sending it into a corner.

"I asked you to apologize to David, even if just for show. Is that so hard for you?"

"Throwing away your medal? You think the Federation can't function without you?"

I lowered my head and removed my tactical gloves.

The Tyrant's brain matter still stuck to my palms, the stench piercing my nose.

If I hadn't crushed that bastard's skull with these hands just now, David's head would've been crushed instead.

"I don't care anymore."

My voice was quiet.

Emily sneered.

She pointed at my nose.

"Nicholas, this is for your own good. You're the future Director's husband. Walking around reeking of blood all the time only scares people."

"Look at David. He was scared just now, but he kept trying to negotiate with the Tyrant. That's the spark of civilization."

Negotiate with a bio-weapon that only knows how to eat flesh?

I almost laughed out loud.

"Fine, if you want to be a savage, then we'll do things the savage way."

Emily saw my silence and thought I was backing down.

"From this moment on, freeze Nicholas Jackson's Level One clearance. Revoke his access to the armory and cut off his special nutrient supply. Let's see how many hours you last before you're on your knees begging me to take you back."

The elites around us began to whisper among themselves.

Three years ago, they were on their knees begging me to save their lives.

Now, holding champagne glasses, they looked at me with contempt.

"Crude mercenary. Only someone like Mr. Thomas deserves to lead the new world."

I bent down and picked up the half-smoked cigar at my feet.

I hadn't had time to finish it before the battle earlier.

Seeing my movement, Emily instinctively shielded David behind her.

"You want to get violent? This is the Capitol building, not your slaughterhouse."

Her defensive posture - like I was the Tyrant.

I struck a match, lit the cigar, and took a deep drag. The harsh smoke swirled in my lungs before I blew it in Emily's face.

"Emily." I called her name. "The way you are right now really makes me sick."

Emily froze.

In this relationship, I'd always been the silent protector, never saying a harsh word to her.

In front of everyone, I ripped off my ID badge.

The card that read "Special Operations Commander" snapped in two.

I casually tossed it in the trash, where it landed among their leftover lobster shells.

"Since you think I'm violent, from now on, you guard your own walls."

Emily's chest heaved with anger. She lowered her voice, speaking through gritted teeth:

"The zombie wave just ended, the Eastern District defenses are still being rebuilt, and you're threatening me with resignation? Nicholas, where's your sense of responsibility? Do you have to be jealous of David at a time like this?"

I looked at David hiding in her arms.

He wore a pristine silk shirt, collar open, showing his collarbone - clean in a way that didn't belong in the apocalypse.

Meanwhile, my combat uniform was full of tears, my bulletproof vest embedded with shrapnel.

"He's so civilized, let him go reason with the zombies."

I turned and walked toward the door.

David let out a timely sigh.

"Emily, did I cause you trouble again? It's all my fault for being useless, fainting at the sight of blood..."

Emily raised her head and shouted at my back:

"Lock Nicholas in solitary for seventy-two hours. No one is allowed to treat his wounds. Let him think hard about what obedience means."

Several guards surrounded me.

These were friends I'd fought alongside in life-or-death situations.

But now, I was a mad dog abandoned by the queen.

I didn't resist, letting them put electronic shackles on me.

The iron door closed.

I sat against the wall, watching the red light blinking on the shackles.

My left leg's old injury throbbed dully.

That was from three years ago, when a Crawler bit through it as I carried Emily out of a zombie horde.

These three years, I'd been like a human shield.

And all I got was: "You're too crude, not like a gentleman."

Music from the dance floor drifted through the door.

The celebration was still going. Emily was probably comforting David.

No one remembered that I was supposed to be the guest of honor at this party.

I pulled a tiny communicator from the lining of my tactical boot.

Three years ago, that crazy woman from the Northern Badlands had slipped it to me.

She was the Federation's mortal enemy - Scarlett Anderson, leader of the Black Mamba Legion.

Back then, I'd tossed it aside, thinking I'd never use it in this lifetime.