Presidential Pardon

President Obama is faced with his biggest test yet- zombies. With the help of Agent Bentley they will have to change the landscape of the USA forever.

"Give me the fire axe Agent Bentley!" Obama screamed as a hand pushed into the front door of the oval office. Obama slammed the axe through the hand braking into his domain. Obama kicked the dismembered hand across the room to sit under Kennedy's desk.

"What are these things sir?"

"The cancer on our society Agent Bentley, America's cancer. We have to get to Biden."

"Why sir?" Agent Bentley asked as he cocked his pistol. Obama pointed at the side door and flicked the axe towards it. Bentley nodded and posted up against the door.

"He was charged with getting the cure- didn't anyone listen to my state of the union? On three Agent Bentley," Obama took a step back and got into a squat position. "One...two....three!" Obama crashed through the door leg first his agent came behind him. The room was vacant and the phone was blaring out a dial tone. The window was broken through as if someone leaped out of it. Somehow the guards in the yard were holding off the horde at the gate.

Obama noticed a note next to the phone, it was in Biden's chicken scratch handwriting: "At the Pentagon, the cure is being loaded." Obama showed the note to the agent, "know where we're going now?" Obama asked.

"Yes sir- question is how do we get there."

"Well, I'm the President, we'll try my chopper."

Checking out the window, the chopper was present in the back of the great lawn. Zombies weren't through the fences yet so the trip should be relatively safe but Agent Bentley didn't trust it, "allow me Mr. President," Agent Bentley said as he leaped through the window. He sped to the chopper and swung the door open. The pilot roared and clawed at Bentley scratching the tie off the agent. Bentley yanked the man from the seat before firing two rounds through his skull.

Bentley waved the President to the helicopter. With a flick of a few switches the blades were spinning full speed. The noise awoke a strength in the zombies at the fence; they shoved harder and harder overpowering the gated lawn in seconds. “Biden should be in Pennsylvania giving a speech with Clinton. Hopefully he’s got the cure ready.” Agent Bentley nodded and pushed forward on the control stick- this was one hell of a day.

At cruising altitude, Bentley turned to the commander and chief, “what caused all this Mr.President? It can’t just be rampant cancer, we’ve had that for awhile.”

The man sighed so hard his tie shifted out of place. Obama straightened it, “it started where all evil starts- the republicans. You might be aware of various entities that want to take down our great country- well most of them fund their campaigns,” Obama looked out the windshield over the great pine tree forests of Pennsylvania. “One of those fundraisers wasn’t too happy about Trump being selected as the primary candidate and, despite withdrawing funds from the RNC, had money forcibly taken from their accounts. The NSA did that under Cruz’s command, yes that's what he really does on the security commission, this donor happens to run Pfizer the pharmaceutical company.”

“Great, another conspiracy no one will believe. Kennedy was shot by aliens you know? That’s what my father said and he was in the service when it happened. Hell he was in Dallas,” Bentley threw one arm up in disgust, the helicopter twitched.

“Kennedy was killed under Nixon’s orders- everyone knows that! How do people not get that? The guy was crazy jealous. Anyway, Pfizer got mad and released a biotoxin into Cruz’s tea one day but instead of just killing him, it mixed with his freakish foreigner blood and mutated into an airborne disease. Cruz was patient zero, Biden has been running numerous tests on him in one of our bunkers- his...progression is far slower than any other zombie out there; he just keeps arguing with it they say.”

“It fits his whole schtick I guess.”

“Regardless, Biden has done his part and distilled the cure all we have to do is get it out there. We can change the world again.”

“Oh ho, I see what you did there sir. I’ll give you props for that,” Agent Bentley said. They approached Biden’s bus and began their descent. This was one huge advantage of flying a copter instead of a plane, you don’t need a landing strip. Bentley edged closer to the bus when five of the diseased b******s sprinted directly under them towards the bus.

“Biden must be there,” Obama pointed at the bus with his Vice President’s giant grin on it. “Land on top of the bus, by the back half so it won’t crush any important parts.”

“Crush any important parts? Sir the weight will destroy the whole thing.”

“Fine hover over the bus and I’ll open the hatch on top,” Obama said as he unclipped his seatbelt. He set his helmet behind them and sucked in a gust of air while shutting his eyes. He fell. There was only three feet from the door of the helicopter to the roof of bus but it was still dramatic; Agent Bentley wouldn’t have done it without an order.

President Obama tucked the pistol he jumped out with into the holster he carried under his suit jacket and began to violently stomp the roof access to the bus. Whoever was in the bus pulled it open and threw up a hand with a sock tied to it. Obama waved the first human up through the access- Mrs.Biden crawled onto the bus top. Hillary Clinton followed closely and Biden was last though he was mysteriously close to Hillary’s tail-end and Bentley could have sworn he touched her butt. Now wasn’t the time to be concerned with Biden’s past times though, he lowered the chopper so the open door was floating a few feet down the bus from the roof access.

The same line-up boarded the helicopter, Obama came on just before Biden. Once on the chopper Biden handed Barack a vial of a blue concoction, “Hillary already has one as does my wife. We’ll have better luck with more chances. Who is our pilot?” Biden asked the President.

“Agent Bentley right?” Hillary answered in Obama’s stead. “You worked with my husband and eventually I hope to work with you too, should be a shoo-in after this.”

“Hillary there are more important occurrences right now,” Biden said.

“Easy for you to say, you aren’t running. Did you know Republicans were not only the cause and primary contaminated individual but also much more susceptible to it?”

“Where on Earth did you come up with that?” Mrs. Biden asked.

“My spin-woman gave it to me as they took a juicy bite out of her leg at the town hall meeting earlier,” Hillary brushed off her pant suit and folded her hands over her knees.

“It actually holds up a little Biden. It was spread from Cruz and he was at a convention when we caught him,” Obama stated.

“It’s a low blow.”

“Well it’s my campaign and if Trump thinks he’s going to turn this against us somehow he has another thing coming.”

“Has anyone heard from that tumbleweed wearing b*****d, anything on the news?” The companions on the plane look around at each other in silence.

“He’s likely holed up on his golden crapper in New York. Anyone want to tell me where we’re going?” Bentley asked. The chopper was skimming the trees of Pennsylvania towards the coast; he wasn’t sure if that was the path they needed to be on.

“CDC of course, just keep heading towards the coast and north, you’ll see it,” Biden assured Bentley. “Where’s Bill anyway?”

“He’s at the center of his world- Bill Gates’ house with his saxophone and a trail of hookers so long it could stop this zombie apocalypse with over indulgence.”

“I can’t wait to do that in a few months, Michelle won’t mind,” Obama said as he turned his head up to the clouds dreamily. “You know, I don’t think this is the worst natural disaster we’ve faced.”

“What was Hurricane Sandy worse?” Mrs. Biden asked.

“No...Republican congress is!” Obama started to crack up, no one else on the copter enjoyed the jest, they all had to stay in for a few more years.

“We’ll dissipate them with all of this propaganda they’ve handed to us. Turning humans into zombies, that’s bad policy!” Biden exclaimed.

“How much longer to the CDC Bentley?” Mrs.Biden asked.

“ About an hour. Trust me, it’ll be our last hour of peace if my gut is close to being right. I think we’ll find alot more than a disbursement vessel.” The ragtag group of Democrats let the silence control their nerves; they could be dead if the CDC was overrun.

The Center for Disease Control in Pennsylvania was too artistic for it's own good. Two triangle shaped roofs rammed into each other like a diseased polygon. Bentley supposed that worked fine considering the building’s purpose. He took the helicopter down against the pine tree forest at the edge of the land.

The chopper blades swooshed to a calm stillness, Obama tapped Bentley’s shoulder, “get ready,” he said as he pulled out the gun from his jacket pocket.

“I don’t see any infected Barack,” Biden said.

“Look around Biden, the brush of the needles tells us everything, this quiet is the moments before the war- and I would know, I was Secretary of State,” Hillary jumped off the chopper and pulled a gun from the holster she had cleverly tucked under her pant suit. Mrs.Biden and Biden followed Hillary but without guns to aim they stood between the President and Bentley, who took up the rear.

The snow crunched under the squad’s footsteps crackling like rice krispies. The entrance was just fifty feet away but the white blankness seemed to expand it. Barack reached the door first and took a position on the corner, Hillary aimed her piece, a beautiful Judge loaded with shotgun shells, at the door. Barack tilted his head at Bentley; the agent would be first. Bentley didn’t stop to breath, he slammed his foot into the handle of the door a few times but the handle was only mildly looser. He aimed his gun and fired off three rounds at the lock, the knob and just between them. He kicked again; the door swung open and ricocheted off the wall. Bentley halted it with his back and the rest of the party filed into the CDC. A mammoth thumping above them struck fear down their spines, this would be one hell of a race.

“Biden, where?” Obama screamed, his gun steady in front of him.

“Red corridor, should be just a few more halls ahead. Take a left, up the stairs and then there’s a retina scan locked door with the disbursement inside,” Biden gripped his wife’s hand as they sped up. The stampede was getting louder.

“We’re running right towards them!” Mrs.Biden shouted.

“It’s what we have to do sweetheart, we have to save the American people from what these corporate monsters and Cruz created. If it means we...have to own up to the voters than so be it.”

“Biden has a great point, he’s taking the fall for all of us. Look there’s the red hallway, Bentley cover our back,” Obama said as the squad sprinted faster into the hall.

“You might need more cover up there,” Bentley said. The stampede was upon them; hundreds of zombie voters brain-dead seemingly beyond recovery stood in front of them- catching the wiff of Democrats in the air. They charged. “Get behind me!” Bentley shouted. He opened fire on the b******s. Guts, brains and blood flew across the faces of the stampede cloaking the red hallway in a new layer of it’s namesake. Hillary and Barack fired from behind the agent taking nearly as many zombies out as they could but it was barely making a dent. “You all have to go,” Bentley said.

“Not without you,” Barack lined up shoulder to shoulder with his agent. “You’ve been with me since the beginning, I don’t end a campaign without rewarding those who stand by me.”

“It’s true,” Hillary said as she took a step closer to line up with Barack and Bentley.

“There’s another solution, I can do something, I can help,” Mrs.Biden said from the rear.

“No honey, please no.”

“I can distract them. It’ll be alright Joe, it’s what the United States needs,” Mrs.Biden stepped between Bentley and the President. She walked right into the mass of voter zombies and stripped her clothing off down to the bare minimum. They fawned over her for a few quick seconds before the biting began. “I love you!” She screamed; the crunching of her bones gave them all the confirmation they needed.

“There’s another way, around the orange hall. It’s one more down hopefully we can funnel them out and my sweet won’t have died for nothing,” Biden broke out into a sprint back around the corner. He had no protection now, it was all riding on him.

Bentley caught up first, taking two steps at a time after they turned around the orange hall. “Careful, we pass through the DOD’s bio-pathogen lab this way. Don’t break anything or you’ll release something nearly as bad as the zombie virus.” They came upon a keypad Biden quickly slammed a few keys on. The sliding doors opened quickly and with a satisfying vacuum seal sound.

Biden took off once more, he sprinted faster than a man half his age, it was amazing. Bentley struggled to keep up. The stampede was behind them, they’d rounded the corner of the orange hall and were making their way up the stairs. Obama cleared the bio pathogen room and pressed a few more keypads to seal each room of the lab off. The zombies would take hours to break through one let alone all four; they were home free.

The disbursement device looked like a pod you sent a check from your grandmother into the bank with- a pneumatic tube that launched straight up. Biden again keyed in a few numbers, the pod opened and had a relief for a vial exactly matched to the one each democrat had in their pockets. “I’m going to arm it but the cure could take a few hours to work and it only affects those that are outside first. We need to open up the bio pathogen lab so they are all cured.”

“We’ve got that Joe,” Hillary said; she and Obama took off for a ladder in the back of the room. Biden slouched over as the spinning commenced.

“What have I done...what have I done…” Biden cried, falling to the ground.

“You’ve saved the world sir. Just as you were assigned,” Agent Bentley said.

“It wasn’t worth it,” Biden replied in a whisper tone. A loud crash came from the ladder section. Hillary fell hard from the access hole, gunfire was spouting off above them. “No!” Biden screamed, he charged towards the Secretary of State, Agent Bentley close by his side.

Hillary was clenching for her last breaths. Her ribs were exposed and bite marks covered her body, what would they do without her in the election? Agent Bentley knelt beside her grabbing a hand. “Tell Bill...tell...Bill...I love him and to...to keep the dream...alive through...Chel...Chelsea….and, heh, and...to fold his undies….like he promised so many years ago-” Clinton’s pulse stopped immediately. They looked down at her body and noticed the bone impaled through her heart. The disbursement machine fired off behind them. It flew high into the sky and arched away from the building. It spun releasing a large cloud of light blue, the cure. The gunfire over head stopped and Obama descended the stairs.

“Looks like it’s just you and me again Biden,” he said. They hugged for a moment until Barack knelt down to test Clinton’s pulse for himself. She was flatlined for minutes as he held her wrist. She was gone, entirely gone. “At least we won the day gentlemen, at least we won the day.”

“President Obama, thanks,” Agent Bentley said, he watched the rain descend on the zombies in the bio pathogen area. It was like dogs getting wet, they shook but came out of it with a smile and look of curiosity like no other. They were free from the tyranny of corporations and Cruz.

“This change, is a good change,” President Obama said. He brushed off his suit, holstered his gun, and walked towards the people ready for whatever they had for him next.