Sarge took the bullet right in the center of his chest. The camouflage split, blood splattered everything in site and we just sat there stunned. Sarge never flinched. He wavered from the blast, but slowly looked down at the gaping hole in his chest and began to laugh. His face began to tense when the blood stopped flowing, the skin stretched back to cover the hole and his chest began to rebuild itself. The cloth was still torn, but the blood that had permeated it was soaking back into the wound to help with the healing process. We just continued to stare, amazed. He tilted his head back and let out a chilling high-pitched scream, as if possessed by some unearthly demon. It was at that point that I saw his teeth extending, forming two long canines, built for ripping flesh.

As the transformation finished, he lunged with blazing speed into the woods, almost as if he had wings. I had never seen a man move that fast, to the point that he was nothing but a blur. He was headed straight to where the enemy shot had originated. Apparantly they were just as stunned because there were no follow-up shots from them and he tore into them with a savage fury. He began to bite and rip the flesh from their necks, tore limbs from their bodies and shredded them until there was nothing left and he was just a gasping, trembling visage standing among their remains.

Slowly, he made his way back to us, wiping the excess blood from his face. Not one of us had thought to make a move either towards or away from him. We couldn’t comprehend what we had just seen. “Gentlemen,” he finally spat out, a piece of skin spewing from his mouth, “I guess you should know that the army has been running some experiments, field testing a new breed of soldiers.” I was amazed at how well he was able to speak around those huge teeth. They seemed to glint in the sunlight, except for the few spots still stained in red. “I am the first of a long line of new vampire soldiers. Central Intelligence has developed some new formulas to improve the quality of their men.” The way he said “improve” led me to believe he thought he had achieved something well past simple modifications. “I have been doing night patrols over the area, keeping the enemy on the run, protecting your worthless hides.” There was a gleam in his eye. “The formula has a way of not allowing one to sleep, and improves so many physical characteristics, but it also gives one a blind sense of rage.” He was starting to look at us oddly. “And it’s a good thing. I can’t have anyone knowing about this test. It was supposed to remain confidential. Now I’ll just have to eliminate any risk of word getting out.”

And then he lunged at Thompson in that same blinding speed. Thompson had not done much the whole time, but just stand there, looking at him with a sense of disgust and frustration. He had been the least phased among us which made him the bigger threat, and therefore the first target. Even under attack, Thompson still hadn’t moved. He just stood there while Sarge kept taking chunks out of his neck. Slowly it started to dawn on all of us that there was no blood. Thompson just stood there grinning, like Sarge had done earlier, and Sarge was starting to realize it. Thompson’s hand shot up and grabbed Sarge around the throat in a death-grip that held him off of the ground. Even Sarge’s new dexterity was having trouble breaking the choke hold. The arm that supported him started to streak and fade as if aging rapidly. The skin peeled and curled, the flesh became mottled and rotten and the stench could be smelled even from where we were. Thompson snarled, “You think vampires were their only test? FormuLAS, remember?” Thompson hurled Sarge into a nearby tree with enough force to uproot it. Sarge slumped to the ground, but was still going. “Zombies were on their list as well. That rage is built into our formula as well.”

Suddenly, I was witnessing the most unholy battle I had ever seen. They fought with everything their newfound powers had at their disposal, both doing extreme damage to the other, but neither inflicting a mortal blow. This battle would last for a while, but we were still too stunned to do anything. Regardless of who won, we were still doomed.

I began looking at the other men in the unit, wondering when one of them would sprout fur all over his body and start howling at the moon.

The first woman president was elected on the tricentenial of the USA, 2076. The Democrats fielded Chloe McPhee as their candidate, with the central campaign theme of ‘A New America’. After all, 300 years of guys hadn’t really brought us to a favorable point in the world.

The oil had finally run out, or near enough, and nothing was being done. Instead, the world was hit with the biggest economic depression ever, while scientists still struggled on finding more oil instead of looking for oil alternatives. The second Iraqi war was being fought, along with the war in Saudi Arabia. Wars also raged between Palestine and Israel, Pakistan and India, and all over Africa. The US, led by male presidents, felt like they had to be involved in every one of them.

Chloe won with a popular vote of 57% and an Electoral College of 311. Immediately, most troops were withdrawn, the world liked us again, and she financed the project that would solve the oil problem. Their solution was asparagus. Two liquid ounces of fermented asparagus could run a car, supplied that it was strong enough to harness the pure power, just as far as 20 gallons of gas could. As a bonus, it didn’t cause any pollution. That, and a single shot could get you slobberingly drunk.

In her second election, she won with a landslide victory; the greatest ever achieved by any president. 87% of the populace voted for her in an Electoral sweep. As her second term came to an end, there was a movement to remove the two-term limit, but she stepped from power and retired from public life.

Every one assumed that another democrat would take her spot, but they lost in the next election to the first Black male to ever become elected president. Wayne Joliff won by a narrow margin in both votes over the heavily favored democratic white male candidate. He was a weak president over all, but he set the precedent for years to come; the only way to win the presidency was to field someone even more radical than the current president.

In 2088, the Democrats took control of the White House by fielding a black woman. In 2092, the Republicans took it back by fielding a mixed Asian-black woman. In 2096, the Democrats won again by endorsing the first openly gay president. He won again in 2100 by becoming the first flamboyantly gay president. Rumor says that all official business with foreign ambassadors was conducted while the president gave them a manicure.

The Presidency became a sideshow. The real power of the presidency lied not with the man, woman, or transvestite in charge, but with the party that got them elected. By 2144, the races were getting so ridiculous, that there was talk of nominating a horse to run for president. Instead, the Republicans came up with something even more striking.

What was first seen as the savior power source, asparagus, became our curse in 2142. We thought that it didn’t create any pollution, but it really just didn’t create any pollution we checking for. The pollution caused by asparagus usage was not sludge, or air pollutant, or water pollutant, or anything physical for that matter. It created a certain vibrancy in the air that was undetectable to our instruments, save for a funny buzz in the radio when it was in a high concentration. However, this vibration was tearing at our minds. The first people to succumb were the generation who had lived with Asparagus usage for their entire life. They just started dying, and no one could explain why. The doctors just said that their brain had stopped functioning entirely.

The people were buried, and about a week later, they dug their way out. These casualties to asparagus were like something from a horror movie. They were real life zombies… to an extent. They didn’t eat brains or anything else for that matter; they just kind of wandered around and groaned a lot. They were a terrible sight to behold, all rotting flesh and dangling eyes, but they weren’t particularly dangerous.

The asparagus problem was solved through some dedicated research, people cremated the few others that died of asparagus waves, and the remaining zombies were killed off. Save for one.

The Republicans, looking for the newest, most bizarre candidate, saved one zombie. The zombie won with a popular vote of 51% and an Electoral College of 271, beating Margaret, the Democrat’s green sea turtle, by the narrowest of margins.

The zombie is a solid possibility for winning a second term in 2152, though the polls show that a small pebble named Thomas could give the zombie a run for it’s money.