Chapter 66 America Becomes a Living Hell—The Division's Sleeper Agents Awaken!

Christmas was only a month away.

In previous years, Americans would already have begun celebrating the holiday season.

Now, they were enduring hell.

The first known case appeared on November 17.

By November 19, the initial wave of infections had already spread throughout New York, and the sudden surge of patients had paralyzed the city’s medical system.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and other federal agencies quickly intervened and declared an emergency.

However, the virus spread faster than anyone could have imagined.

Containing it soon became nearly impossible.

On November 21, President Adam Benford ordered the United States Army to surround and quarantine New York City.

The Catastrophic Emergency Response Agency began distributing emergency vaccines obtained from several pharmaceutical companies on a massive scale.

By November 22, the situation had deteriorated further.

The World Health Organization officially declared a major epidemic.

Chaos throughout New York intensified, and security forces were forced to withdraw from several neighborhoods that had fallen completely out of control.

The surviving police officers and military units merged to form the Joint Task Force.

On November 23, the JTF constructed towering barriers around the city center and established barricades and defensive fortifications throughout the streets.

Yet even after the city was sealed off, conditions continued to become increasingly unstable.

Tension mounted with each passing hour.

If the pathogen had truly been nothing more than influenza, the situation might still have remained manageable. In fact, it had briefly appeared to be improving.

Humanity had gravely misjudged what it was facing.

This wasn’t influenza.

It was a daughter strain of SCP-008, the Zombie Plague.

At first, everyone assumed they were dealing with a large-scale flu outbreak.

Then the dead began rising and attacking the living.

The city-center facilities where the Catastrophic Emergency Response Agency had been transporting and quarantining patients became the most horrifying epicenters of the outbreak.

The Joint Task Force suffered devastating losses.

On November 24, as the crisis continued to worsen, President Adam Benford formally enacted Directive 51.

The first wave of Strategic Homeland Division agents was immediately activated and deployed into cities that had fallen out of control.

Heavy snowflakes drifted from the sky, making New York appear even gloomier.

Hell’s Kitchen, Manhattan.

People only understood the value of what they possessed after losing it.

In the past, Americans could spend winter comfortably at home with the heating on and a fire burning in the hearth.

At this time of year, they would have been enjoying the holiday season and preparing for Christmas with their spouses, children, and friends.

Now, the country’s most prosperous city had become a living hell in only a single week.

The living dead wandered throughout its neighborhoods, hunting survivors.

After the prolonged lockdown eliminated nearly every way out of the city, many ordinary people descended into banditry.

In the past, walking downstairs to find something to eat at a nearby restaurant would have taken five minutes.

Now, that same journey might require an hour—and could easily cost someone their life.

Running water and electricity had failed.

Food was scarce.

Medicine was almost impossible to find.

Countless zombies roamed the infected areas, while gangs and armed rioters dominated the surviving neighborhoods.

The soldiers and police officers who had once protected the public and desperately tried to preserve order had become some of the crisis’s earliest and most visible casualties.

New Yorkers had once complained constantly about daily gunfights, rampant shoplifting, and the city’s reputation as a miniature Gotham.

Now, they desperately wished their old lives would return.

Even the terrible public safety they had once condemned seemed wonderful in comparison.

At least people hadn’t needed to worry about becoming a zombie’s next meal whenever they stepped outside.

They hadn’t feared armed rioters stealing their last remaining supplies.

They hadn’t been forced to wonder whether their wives and daughters would become victims of roaming gangs.

The JTF was barely maintaining order.

However, as its forces suffered mounting losses and retreated again and again, the city’s fragile remaining structure seemed ready to collapse at any moment.

Like Gwen, Peter Parker had acquired superhuman abilities.

He was currently sheltering inside Midtown School of Science and Technology with a group of students, parents, and teachers.

Wooden boards and barricades sealed every entrance to the campus.

Despite the severity of the disaster, Peter’s situation remained relatively comfortable.

Using the spider-like powers he had gradually learned to control, he had gathered a considerable quantity of supplies.

Not only did he have enough food and water for himself, but he could also ensure that Uncle Ben and Aunt May received what they needed.

Because Uncle Ben was still alive, he had yet to teach Peter the famous lesson:

With great power comes great responsibility.

Peter remained caught between the excitement of acquiring extraordinary power and the uncertainty of what to do with it.

More importantly, the disaster had allowed him to stay in the same classroom as the girl of his dreams, Mary Jane.

The classroom had been converted into a temporary shelter, so they were effectively living together.

Of course, plenty of other people were present.

Even so, a small part of Peter couldn’t help wishing that this arrangement might last a little longer.

While he was still indulging in that fantasy, his best friend, Ned, held up his phone.

“Hey, Peter! Check out this video. It’s awesome!”

“What kind of video?”

“It’s about some organization called the Foundation.”

“It says there’s a secret group known as the Strategic Homeland Division whose agents have been hiding among us all along. There could even be a Division agent standing right beside us.”

Peter laughed.

“That has to be fake. If there were really that many secret agents, the city wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

“No way. That video had more than a billion views on YouTube. There might actually be some truth to it.”

As soon as Ned finished speaking, a red-haired girl entered the classroom shelter.

It was Mary Jane, the girl of Peter’s dreams.

Mary looked at them curiously.

“What are you two watching?”

Peter immediately became excited, gesturing animatedly as he explained.

“You’ve got to see this! It’s an incredible video about a secret organization called the Strategic Homeland Division.”

“Apparently, it has agents stationed throughout the entire country. One of the three of us could secretly be a Division agent!”

“Secret agents? That’s ridiculous.”

Mary smiled and changed the subject.

“I found some batteries. Why don’t we play some video games?”

At that moment, a deafening explosion shook the campus.

Ned’s face filled with alarm.

“What happened?”

The three hurried to the window and looked outside.

Midtown’s front gates had been blown apart.

Several vehicles crashed through the shattered remains and drove onto the campus.

That wasn’t even the greatest danger.

The enormous explosion might attract zombies from infected areas several blocks away.

The vehicles stopped, and a large group of armed rioters poured out.

They immediately attacked the guards protecting the school and the nearby Joint Task Force personnel.

Outnumbered and assaulted with gunfire and Molotov cocktails, the JTF defenders were forced back.

Neither Peter nor Ned noticed the orange watch on Mary Jane’s wrist lighting up.

A glowing phoenix emblem appeared on its surface.

Ned stared outside in terror.

“Damn it! Those bastards are going to break in!”

“Peter, shouldn’t we run?”

Gunfire and screams were already echoing through the hallway.

Suddenly, an agile figure rushed out of the room.

She slid across the floor, leaned around the corner, and opened fire.

The two rioters attempting to enter the floor were killed instantly.

Peter and Ned stared in disbelief at the fully armed Mary Jane.

She now wore a baseball cap and a high-tech translucent respirator over her face. A tactical vest covered her torso.

After eliminating the two enemies, Mary turned and gave Peter a radiant smile.

“Sorry, Peter.”

“I have to go save our city.”

Mary walked over to a storage closet and retrieved a tactical backpack marked by a flashing orange light.

She slung it over her shoulders, picked up a compact submachine gun, and waved goodbye.

Peter remained frozen for several moments after she left.

Then he turned toward Ned.

“Ned, stay inside the shelter.”

“I’m going to take a look too!”

Peter quickly left the classroom, pulled on his homemade mask, and climbed onto the school roof.

Mary Jane had already begun exchanging fire with the rioters.

However, there were too many of them.

She appeared to be struggling alone.

Just as Peter prepared to become Spider-Man and rush to her rescue, a rocket struck one of the rioters’ vehicles and hurled it onto its side.

“Short Sword 04 joining the operation!”

The voice belonged to Peter’s homeroom teacher, Ms. Eileen.

She now wore equipment similar to Mary’s and was positioned on a nearby rooftop with an M14 EBR marksman rifle.

One precise shot after another struck the rioters below.

The rioters mounted an M249 light machine gun on one of their vehicles and began suppressing Ms. Eileen’s position.

Two smoke grenades suddenly landed beside the gun truck.

“Short Sword 03 joining the operation!”

It was Yuko, the quiet Japanese girl from the neighboring class who had always seemed nearly invisible.

Carrying a ballistic shield with a shotgun braced against it, she charged forward and positioned herself in front of Mary.

“Short Sword 02 joining the operation!”

Two quadrotor drones appeared overhead.

Their mounted 5.56 mm rifles poured fire into the rioters and forced them into cover.

The drones belonged to Xiao Lin, an international student from China.

She had also deployed an Mk 48 Mod 0 machine gun and was unleashing sustained fire on the rioters.

“Short Sword 01 joining the operation!”

Under covering fire from Ms. Eileen and Xiao Lin, Mary and Yuko rushed forward.

They engaged the remaining rioters in close-quarters combat and eliminated them one after another.

Within minutes, every armed attacker on the school grounds had been killed.

Peter Parker stared blankly at the familiar people below.

At that moment, they seemed like complete strangers.

The same transformation was occurring throughout the country.

At Gwen’s home in Queens, George Stacy silently shouldered a tactical backpack marked by a glowing orange light.

At Fort Redstone, many soldiers continued to succumb to the infection despite receiving the vaccine.

Just as the base appeared ready to fall, Natasha and Skye watched civilians suddenly retrieve hidden weapons and join the battle.

Their intervention saved Fort Redstone.

Every one of them carried the same symbol:

A tactical backpack marked by an orange light.

“Short Sword Team joining the operation. Moving into Block 48 to stabilize the situation.”

“Noble Team joining the operation. Entering Block 23 to contain the infected.”

“Red Umbrella Team joining the operation. Moving into Block 12 to assist the JTF in protecting civilians.”

Inside schools, apartments, and businesses—and throughout the streets—surviving Division sleeper agents awakened one after another.

They began fulfilling the mission for which they had prepared.

Intervene in the crisis.

Save the cities.

Contain the chaos!

Peter Parker watched in disbelief as one Division team after another risked everything to save the lives they had once known.

Whether facing vicious rioters or tides of zombies surging out of the infected zones, those glowing orange lights gathered throughout the city.

Individual sparks gradually combined into a brilliant light that illuminated New York.

Only moments earlier, those people might have been someone’s neighbor.

They might have been brothers or sisters.

Husbands or wives.

Childhood friends.

Then their orange watches illuminated.

They became Division agents and entered the fight without hesitation.

Whatever dangers awaited them, they continued forward.

Peter felt as though a flame had ignited inside his chest.

He drew a deep breath and slowly stood.

Reaching into his backpack, Peter removed the carefully crafted red-and-blue suit he had made and changed into it.

Then he looked at the agents who were risking their lives in battle.

Peter Parker leaped from the rooftop.

Spider-Man wasn’t the only one.

The Punisher in Hell’s Kitchen and Hawkeye inside an apartment elsewhere in the city also witnessed the Division agents stepping forward.

One superhero after another took up their weapons and joined the fight.

At that moment, V-44X vertical-takeoff transports bearing the Foundation’s insignia flew toward Fort Redstone Military Base.

Their cabins were filled with heavily armed Mobile Task Force soldiers prepared for battle.

Across the country, everyone who could still access the internet, watch television, or listen to the radio suddenly saw the same broadcast.

A handsome, black-haired man dressed in a black military uniform appeared before the camera.

“People of America, greetings.”

“Allow me to introduce myself.”

“I am Ethan, the current Supreme Commander of the Foundation—”

“And the Director of the Strategic Homeland Division.”