This is a story I wrote out several years ago on a different zombie-related forum, a story I had all but forgotten about. But seeing this forum rekindled my fanfic passion so I rewrote it and plan to release all 15 parts I already have and possibly a few more over the next few days/weeks. I hope you enjoy it.
This story has been inspired by several zombie stories and games, mainly Dead Frontier, Road of the Dead, Lab of the dead and off course No More Room in Hell.
The story has since been finished, though not adapted to this forum. You can find the full story in the link below. (There won't be a sequel.) What you see below are the first 6 parts of the 16 chapters that this story consists of.
'911 emergency. How may I help you?'
'Hello, I'm standing in front of a building called SMI, it's in the southern industrial area. There seems to be gunfire coming from within the building.'
'Could you clarify that please, ma'am?'
'I can see brief flashes of light through some of the windows, like gunfire, and a lot of running people. Oh god, someone just bashed into a window! There is blood all over it!'
'I meant the location. Are you talking about the Southern Mousetrap Instruments facility or the Secronom Medical Industries building? Are you in the 17th or the 23th district, ma'am?'
'There are now people running out of the building. They are covered in blood and seem to be in a terrible condition. Oh God, someone just gunned them down from a window!'
'Ma'am, I have to ask you where you are right now. 17th or 23th? Does the building have a syringe in its logo?'
'These people seem severely injured and desperate to get out! Please send a few ambulances and cops this way! Wait, someone survived the shooter and is coming at me now.'
*Rustling noises of the phone rubbing against the caller's skirt as she runs.*
'Hello, are you injured? Shall I call for an ambulance? W-Wait! What are you doing? Stop, please. Slow down...!'
'No! NO! AAARGH!'
*Telephone hitting the ground. Lots of static. The sound of a woman screaming vaguely on the background.*
'Hello? Ma'am? Are you there? Hello?'
'This is the New York police department...'
'Hello, my name is Nate Smith. I'm in Chinatown, and there are lots of looters running outs...'
'We are sorry to inform you that there are no employees available at the moment to handle your call, we are currently experiencing a system malfunction or all of our telephones are in use at the moment. We will try to solve this as quickly as possible. You can try to reach another precinct, call later or leave a message after the beep.'
'This is team Bravo, come in. We've been sent here as reinforcements to contain some riot? We are now entering the city from the west. Where are we to be stationed?'
'Hello team Bravo. You came at just the right time. We really need back-up in sector H, that's union city South. And be quick, we lost contact with the garrison stationed there four minutes ago!'
'And what are we facing here, sir? An estimate on how many rioters?'
'Get there as quickly as possible and be careful towards any oddly acting civilians. Any hostiles are to be shot through the head immediately. Do you copy? Though the head!'
'What the fu... Is this a joke or something?'
'This is not a joke. Shoot all the infected on sight, and shoot them through the head!'
'Yeah right. Get of the military channel, prick. Breaking into this frequency could get you into a lot of trouble.'
'General, sir? We've just lost contact with checkpoints 4 and 7, and all remaining sectors are reporting massive overloads of civilians and zedheads. We can't hold the perimeters for much longer, we simply don't have the manpower!'
'Stay strong Lieutenant. All is not lost, but we'll have to retreat. To all military personnel that can still hear me, retreat to the Mariachi river. I repeat, all units retreat to the Mariachi river at once.'
'15 seconds to impact. Are all units out of the quarantined area?'
'Positive sir. Or... I hope so, we don't have any contact with any military units inside the city any more.'
'Sir? There are still a lot of civilians in the blast zone. Is what we're doing right?'
'I sure hope so. I pray to whomever is still up there that we've done the right thing.
'Impact in 5,4,3,2...'
*Lots of static*
'General, general, do you read me?'
'Yes sergeant. I read you loud and clear. What's the status in the quarantined area?'
'Unsure, sir. The radiation levels are still too high. No movement seen so fa... O no! O god no! Massive amounts of zedheads coming this way! It didn't work, sir, it didn't work!'
'Then we have failed, men. With my jurisdiction given to me by the president I hereby declare the united states of America in code black. The FEMA protocol is hereby declared active. All cities are to be immediately evacuated. May God have mercy.'
Sergeants log. Day three.
*Vague static. Sound of a chair being pushed back and then of a man grasping his throat.*
Uhm... Hello. I'm sergeant Joshua Rogers, nr. 346275865. Stationed in Fairview base. Or... Well, I once was. This is my story, if anyone would ever find this recording and care to listen. I... I'm doing this because if this hell would ever blow over, I want my story to be known. I've only got little time, so I'll make it quick.
It started three days ago. We heard unconfirmed reports about a very hazardous disease that had spread in New York, and the order of some general that we were now in code black. I didn't even know that there was a code black until I heard of it. FEMA procedure. We were to be quarantining the whole city at once. Nothing could come in, or out.
We didn't know what was going on, but we did as we were told. Lots of civilians reacted outraged when we locked off the city and recalled all the planes. It's funny to see how many people immediately wanted to leave the city as soon as they heard they couldn't. Lots of 'important' people came up to us, demanding to know what was going on. We told them nothing, nor could we.
But we didn't know what we were trying to stop. We assumed it had something to do with terrorists and bio-weapons, so we didn't expected a lot of real trouble from our fellow Americans. If only we had known.
I was lucky not to be stationed at the airport where it began. The place had been locked down and was guarded heavily, but the officer in charge was so stupid not to separate the passengers from a plane from NY from the others. They spread through the other passengers like wildfire and then struck the soldiers in surprise. They broke out. From that airport the disease spreaded through the whole city.
That's about all the solid information that I have about day one. The rest of day one and most of day two has been nothing but chaos. In mere hours we lost every perimeter inside the city, hundreds of distress calls were made for our help and shortly after all communication fell out. Our division was suddenly on it's own, blocking the cramped highway to New Orleans and whatever more was in that direction.
I was the unlucky one that was ordered to go and scout the situation out there, accompanied by six more men. They gave us gas masks, lots of ammo, portable radios and whatever other tools they could think of that might help us. We moved out, and had quite some trouble with the angry civilians outside our blockade, but we eventually got through.
I assume we were lucky. We didn't encounter anything hostile on our way to Perimeter F, but found the place ravaged. No survivors but lots of dead bodies. To our horror these people were killed by military weapons. Hell, we could guess what happened but we couldn't comprehend why.
One of my privates, Henry, had moved closer to one of the piles to examine the wounds. He noticed that lots of the bodies had bullet- and stabbing wounds on them that were beyond lethal, but he couldn't find any body that wasn't shot through the head as well. Then he suddenly started to scream.
Someone crawled out of the piles and bit him. We didn't knew he was a goddamn zombie yet, so we tried to pull him off of Henry, beating the shit out of him with the butts of our guns. The thing didn't let go of Henry until I putted a bullet through it's head though. The others were asking me what the hell I was thinking, until I pointed at the man's stomach. A terrible sight, his intestines hanging out and they seemed to be nibbled on.
Damn zombies. While we were beating that thing up, they crept up on us unnoticed. No idea how, they probably pulled themselves out of the body piles. We shot them, but my damn privates were panicking. Trained to aim for the center mass, they shot so many precious bullets into the zombies without killing them. I had to literally grab their ears and shout the command to 'shoot those fuckers through the head!'. I don't know if they never heard private Henry's observations or simply hadn't let it sink in.
26 zombies, and over 9 magazines depleted. Damn waste. And even worse, Henry had turned and attacked another private. Samuel kept shooting into the zombies until they were down and then shot himself through the head. A real American patriot.
*short stop, sigh of fatigue.*
After we redistributed our... You, know what? F*ck the military jargon. After we looted the bullets and rations from the two late privates and laid them on a field bed under a sheet, we decided to return to our barricade and inform our superiors about what was going on. By the time we got there, they were gone. The whole highway, still cramped with cars, was now decorated with blood and corpses, and crowded with those damn zombies. We saw no life at the blockade either, they either left or died. Damn.
*Sound of someone opening a door, bursts of gunfire can be heard not even two seconds later.*
Sir! Massive crowd of zombies approaching! We need your help, now!
*Sound of a chair falling back and a belt being strapped on. Abrupt screech and the recording stops.*
Sergeants log. Day four.
*recording starts. Man yawning.*
Day four, morning. Just got out of bed, happy to see another day.
Damn. That was a pretty damn big horde yesterday. This church isn't meant as a fort, the door doesn't even have a locking mechanism on it. It took hours to kill them all, barely had the strength to pull myself to bed afterward.
No matter. Where did I stop yesterday? Oh yeah, just found out we were on our own.
Nothing much to tell about what happened next. We got the hell out of there and decided to go and look for survivors. Had the idea to go and grab some more supplies at perimeter F and check the other perimeters after that.
Perimeter F was still abandoned. Noticed that there were some soldiers missing their weapons and that one of the jeeps had been crashed into a building. Guess that other people figured that this was some easy looting as well. Can't blame them. We grabbed some more ammo, food and batteries and got the hell out.
We lost contact with perimeter C last, so we decided we'd go there first. Heard some gunfire from that direction so we hoped there would be survivors. Next thing I know, a bunch of civilians with shotguns came running around the corner, followed by one hell of a horde. We hid before they saw us. A few of those damn zombies noticed us through. We couldn't shoot them, lest we alert the whole horde.
So we ran into this abandoned looking church and closed the doors behind us. We were already pushing benches against the door when we noticed the others. About 16 men and women, mostly elderly and children, frightfully looking at us. The priest came up to me to ask what we were doing. 'Surviving, that's what we're doing.' I said to him. The zombies started to pound against the doors that same moment, scaring the shit out of these people.
After that we've been sitting here, shooting zombies. I put private Thomson and some of these civilians on a few radios and told them to try contact any other survivors. I was hoping for military orders, or a police department bunkering in, even someone who was locked in his basement would be welcome news. Anything. The last two days we got nothing, though. Only static.
*Static. Brief silence. Static resumes*
Still day four. Evening now. No big hordes of zombies spotted so far, but no survivors either.
We're severely undermanned for these conditions and none of these other folks seem to be capable of handling a gun. Five soldiers can't hold off a hundred men, even slow and dumb ones like these. And there isn't anyone among the civilians that is willing to help fighting of the undead. They're useless.
And the worst thing, they're looking at us for all their problems. Thought that if we wouldn't had broken in here, that those zombies would've never attacked this place. And that this whole pandemic was our fault too. Ungrateful bitches. We're the reason they're still alive and nourished. If they don't stop complaining, I'm gonna threaten to cut off their share of OUR rations. They're getting more annoyed of our presence every day and our supplies are getting low. A disaster seems unavoidable.
Anyway. That's what happened so far. Haven't got anything to tell for now, might add something later.
Sergeants log. Day five.
*sound of a chair being pushed back. Unintelligible shouting in the background.*
Damn zombies! They just keep coming while we're trying to leave! The ground is getting hot under our feet. Literally! The whole city seems to be burning down without firemen, and a big-ass front of flames is coming our way! I'm not a fireman myself, but I know that fire will be frying us in a few hours. We've got to get the hell out, but those damn fucking zombies seem to be attracted to the sound of the fire and they keep blocking our path!
We're so low on ammo that we can't deploy all our men out there at once. And to make it all worse, the civilians are rioting. They're blaming us for the upcoming fires somehow, and most are refusing to leave. I think I'm gonna talk to the priest, he seems be their leader. Maybe I can talk some sense into him.
*Static. Brief silence. Static resumes. Sounds of a man heavily panting.*
It's four pm, still day five. We've got out of that damn church, and just in time. Not having enough time to come up with another plan, we simply threw a grenade into the hordes and ran through the hole it made. Nine civilians tried to follow us, only three got through. The priest stayed behind, together with the elderly. Couldn't talk any sense into him, the stubborn fool. If my last glance at the church was any good, the zombies will reach them before the fire will.
One of the survivors is a kid. Somewhere between 9 and 13 I guess. The other two are men around the 40, we had to pull one of them along as his wife was being devoured. Never seen a man that strong and desperate, followed by being that weak and fatigued. The kid seem traumatized too. I'm gonna keep an eye on him.
Anyway. We got through those damn hordes and ran as fast as we could. It took us three blocks before we got the zombies off our tails, or at least I hope so. We pushed on just to be sure and went to perimeter B to get some more ammo. The whole place was looted empty. Nothing usable left. Damn.
So we went to perimeter A instead. That's were I'm recording this message right now. It used to be the military inner city main checkpoint. Abandoned, ravaged and littered with dead people. But we found more ammo and a note. It said that there were others in... what was it again? Uhm... J street number 3526, I think. We're resting right now, we leave in one hour or when there are a lot of zombies showing up...
Sergeants log. Day six.
We made it! After a long and hazardous walk through this godforsaken city we got to the address we found at A. Turned out it was some major retreat point. All we had to do was to dial 911 and they'd given this address to us. But then again, why would we called 911? We're military for Christ sake! And there hasn't been a reception signal anywhere in the city for three days now.
But we've found this holdout, that's all that matters. Quite some other people found it, too. This place is crawling with people from all ages and professions. Luckily there are a lot of soldiers here too. This place is secured. We left the three civilians behind in the crowds and looked for the highest officer around. Found him shortly after, captain f*cking Lee. I know that guy! Great fellow, knew he'd survive! But surprising that no higher officer did. Maybe those f*ckers simply got the hell out of here.
We'll be just fine in this holdout. It's a big industrial area with strong concrete walls and thick steel fences quite far from any densely populated area. It's a perfect place to wait for orders. Bless whomever built this place, Nastya's Raw Coal Warehouses BV. A true lifesaver.
Sergeants log. Day 54
*Static resumes. Man sighing and tapping on the table.*
Damn, it has been quite a while since I last used this thing. Found it in my drawer just now, hidden under a bloody shirt I haven't washed in a long time. Decided to throw it away, it's got all kinds of fungus growing over it. Really gross. The shirt I mean, not the recorder. But I'm drifting off. My story, continued.
Well, I already told you about reaching this dump. Nothing really changed since then. For me that is. Lee made me head guard at the third gate and I've been shooting zombies for a living ever since. Hate my job. When I let someone through with zombies on his tail, I get in trouble for endangering the outpost and when I don't let him in his family, if there's any left, and friends come to take revenge. On ME. Not my fault if some douche bag thinks he can just leave us his sh*t to take care of.
Things have changed in the outpost. We renamed it to Nastya's. And it extended. It's got a marketplace now, and a shantytown-like living space. All kinds of shit like that. We're now the biggest and safest hold-out in this withering city.
There are others, two to be precise. Doggs and the Precinct. Eachother's death rivals. The one is some branch of warehouses crawling with criminals and the like and the other one is a completely barricaded police department.
This Doggs, the criminal one, is a disgrace to humanity. And it isn't because it's runned by a mafia boss or sh*t. Nah, that's something from past times. It's because the place makes all our supplies twice as expensive. Lots of greedy merchants are sitting there on their asses and buy out whatever supply is getting cheaper at our market. Then, they sell it again for double the price. I'm telling you, as soon as the last perishable foods are gone, that place could turn out a real pain in the ass.
The other place, the Precinct, began as a golden looting opportunity for brave survivors. When you could make it there and get back with a whole sh*tload of weapons and ammo, you'd be rich. But, people wanted more, like always. So when Doggs found out about the place, they wanted to take over control and loot the whole place empty. At the same moment, there happened to be lots of survivors sitting inside that building. And they weren't gonna give their sh*t away.
Lots of cops moved out to the Precinct when they heard about the trapped survivors. It took them two weeks and a lot of casualties, but at the end the cops won. Instead of taking their loot home, they decided the place would make a good holdout, being as well-armed and already barricaded as it was. They stayed and provided a new safe-haven in town.
And just in time too. The looters had been spreading deeper and deeper into the city looking for stuff to sell, as the resources nearby were running out. Lots of people went to this safe place to stay for the night and that's probably what kept them alive. As the Precinct flourished, they started to interfere with Doggs's business. Tried to cut off any roads between them and Nastya's and frequently got into full-fledged gunfights. I've noticed that the prices aren't that impossible any more, and I thank the Precinct for that. But between them and Doggs, it has been war ever since.
That's about all the politics that happened around here so far. Nothing changed a lot ever since. Most zombies are still zombies, although there are these purple zombies now too. Nobody knows where the hell those creeps came from, but from what I'm told they are faster, travel in groups and only appear deeper inside the city. They're told to be a dead trap to all survivors out there, but who knows, maybe they're just a cover-up for all the assassinations and killings in Doggs.
Nobody has ever seen one near the outpost and nobody ever managed to bring one here, but the experienced looters swear that these super-zombies are real. I don't know if I should believe them.
Sergeants log. Day 61
*Static resumes. Man is breathing slightly faster, like he's enthusiastic or scared.*
Someone just took back proof of one of those purple zombies! It was a group of civilians that went out to get some food, and returned with what looked like a severed hand. As the gate-watcher I got to see it first, and to me it looked like a regular burned hand. I didn't know what to think about it, so I informed Colonel Lee, yeah he promoted himself to colonel now, and sent the looters to some scientists. That has been a few hours ago, I wonder what the results will tell.
*Static stops and then resumes. A long, fatigued yawn resonates before the man starts speaking.*
Still day 61. That hand, it turned out to be a fake. Just a burned hand they found on the streets. Nothing special. Others are still saying that the purple zombies are real, but I don't believe them any more. Those boneheads said that the hand was the real deal too. Zombies are just zombies, nothing else. Guess people have been watching too many zombie-flicks back in the days.
It's strange. The very dangerous zombie mutation turns out to be a fake, and it makes me sad. Should be trilled that there are no even more dangerous zombies out there. But then again, when the zombies aren't killing all those people, who is?
Sergeants log. Day 71
Ugh. The latest developments certainly didn't helped me survive this cr*phole. Some new 'evidence' found by a few guys of Doggs says that some industrial pharmacy-branch called 'Secronom' has developed the zombie-virus, and that they were financed by the army. So now there are lots of people are blaming US, the regular soldiers, for the zombie apocalypse. I mean, the f*ck! How were we suppost to know what those assf*ckers were doing? Go complain to the top-assf*ckers that knew, not us! We're just as F*CKING SCREWED as you are!
But NOOooooo, suddenly all the fingers point to me and the other soldiers. The people aren't stupid enough bully the skilled and armed men yet, but I'm FREAKING TIRED of all the rotten fruit we have to dodge all day! The rotting zombies I shoot to protect YOU *SSHOLES smell bad enough on their own, thank you! The scientists aren't having a walk through the park either, now the dumb and irrational people found out that the zombie virus wasn't something nature made. No freaking sh*t, Sherlock! I really want to bash in some skulls right now, and not the infected kind...
Sergeants log. Day 76
*Lots of people shouting, it sounds like they're outside, accompanied by the sounds of breaking bottles and a shot into the air every now and then.*
SH*T! Those pesky *SSHOLES! They've gone too far this time!
Ugh. Those people I've talked about, they got more support. Doggs is spreading propaganda all over town accusing us of all kinds of crap. They turned people who were just grumpy from the hunger and the lousy sanitary into mindless minions. Telling them that WE f*cking planned this apocalypse, that the failed quarantine was a set-up, and even that we would have been the ones behind this 'purple zombies' cover-up!
And from all the soldiers, it's especially the ones like me they're f*cking over. All kinds of sad, one-perspective stories about how I would've locked out little kids and young girls. And off course all their relatives pop up and start shouting that it's true in every aspect. We're the reason that you're still alive, motherf*ckers! Can't F*CKING believe how STUPID people become in these F*CKING conditions!
*Joshua stops talking for a second. He takes a deep breath and slows down his breath.*
Anyway, the last two days people have started to riot and sh*t. We had to abandon the main gate in a hurry and got our asses back to headquarters. We locked of the gates, but I won't be taking the blame if anyone dies out there because he couldn't get in. And now we're locked inside this building that isn't meant for this many people. The crowds locked us in a few hours later.
Guess we were lucky. Some soldiers were too late and couldn't get inside. Those BASTARDS stole their stuff, tied them to poles and stoned them to death. TO DEATH. Those IDIOTIC MORONS killed good men just because THEY WERE PISSED! Those *SSHOLES! Those F*CKING, BACKSTABBING, UNGRATEFUL BASTARDS! WE should f*cking kill them all!
*Joshua rams his fist on the table. The recorder cuts off and the background shouting stops.*
Sergeants log. Day 76
*The background shouting of the rioters resumes.*
We're moving out of this stinking hellhole. We're finally leaving this SH*T!
Lee finally decided to leave these motherf*ckers to their own fate, and today we're moving out. If those *SSHOLES don't get out of the way, we'll run over them with our jeeps. We don't have a choice, nor patience. About 60 soldiers and another 150 clear-minded civilians are leaving Nastya's today. Lee said he prepared some place at the other side of the city, with better hygiene, warmer beds and higher fences. Wonder what it will be like.
*The background static stops.*
Sergeants log. Day 77
*Sounds of heavy vehicles driving slowly and people chatting to eachother. Short bursts of gunfire echo from far away every now and then.*
Ugh. The city isn't as car-friendly as it used to be. Even our tank can't get through some abandoned traffic jams sometimes. It's really a first class mess. We had to take countless detours, pull dozens of cars out of the way and off course the zombies haven't laid off our backs the whole time. Not strange, over two hundred people in cars with assault rifles, the noise must be heard from every corner of the city.
Getting out of Nastya's turned out to be easier than I thought it would. Guess nobody was willing to fight for their 'cause' when they lost their overpowering numbers and superior aggro. Man, you should have seen their faces when a two dozen M16's were pointed at them and fireworks were thrown at their feet! *Laugh* They ran like hell. Bunch of cowards.
But, we've got out and quite friendly too. Just a few minor burn victims on their side, one of us got a bottle against his head and a flat tire from all the glass lying around here. We've been moving ever since.
We've been walking for hours, and due to the barricades everywhere we haven't been going fast. But morale is high ...ish and we haven't encountered any problems so far. Dusk is coming soon, hope we'll reach our new home before then.
Ey sarge! Whom R U talk'n to?
No sarge, let meh sieh that.
It's a recorder, okay? Helps me channel my thoughts. Quite relaxing.
Ow, sarge got a diary. R U tell'n it about R first luv?
Hey, leave the sarge alone, Marcus. Or should I tell everyone about that time with...
Okay. Geez. I shut up, aight?
Well... Where was I? Uhm... O wait, I was already done.
Sergeants log. Day 78
*Sounds of the heavy vehicles and chatting men continues.*
Damn. We just found the scouting party dead. We've saw a trail of dead zombies so we followed it, and at the end there were these good men. Seemed like they were ripped apart, but I can assure you they didn't go down without a fight. Not a single bullet left in their guns. Real men. Unfortunately, we don't know what we'll encounter when we'll reach the new complex now, probably have to clear it of zombies first.
*Background noise is cut off, and resumes after a few seconds. Background talking seems happier.*
Would you look at that. Leaving Nastya's turns out to be the best thing that happened to us since the outbreak.
O wait. Don't get me wrong. I didn't meant that the outbreak was a good thing, it's just that we haven't had anything good ever since. Anyway. We've just reached our new residence. When I though Nastya's was a good place, I hadn't lied my eyes on this place yet. It's a real fort with a back-up generator, automatic fences, watchtower opportunities and a surrounding that even a single soldier could defend. This place is the bomb!
A few soldiers have already advanced into the building, but from the looks of it this place was sealed tight during the outbreak. I doubt there will be any zombies in here at all, except the dozens of zombies that were standing at the gates. So Lee ignored standard protocols and allowed us to go and grab a bed. As a sergeant, I've been scheduled in area 14, one of the most quiet places around. I'm walking towards it right now, and here it is, 14H. My new room.
*Sound of a door opening.*
Home sweet ho... The fu... Hey! Who are you?
*Sound of a pistol being pulled and the barrel cocked, followed by a suppressed yawn.*
Hey, close the door. I'm trying to sleep here.
Get your arse out of my room, prick!
*Sound of a door swiftly being closed and then pulled open again.*
Yeah, 14H, this is my room. Get out!
O exCUse me. Guess I've been sleeping in the wrong room for the last two months then, mister bigshot.
You better get the hell out bef... Wait, you've been here for the last two months?
Well observed. What gave me away?
Ugh, just my luck. You stay here, I'll get the Colonel.
*Sounds of a door being closed and a man walking away. The background noise continues for quite a while as a man is called, told about the survivor and the two walk back. The door opens again and the strange man yawns once more.*
I've heard this place already has a tenant?
Yes sir, this guy claims to be here for two months already.
Correct, mister Colonel. Or three months. I haven't kept count of the days since the outbreak.
So, an unregistered survivor. Who are you and what profession do you have?
Could you let me brush my teeth first? If I had known there would be visitors I would've done that a week ago.
Cut the pranks, prick. Tell the colonel who you are.
That would be professor Prick for you, mate. Or professor Thuner, whatever suits you best. Specialized in designing and synthesizing hormones.
A professor, huh? Wouldn't happen to be the one that created this hellish virus, do you?
No, but it is a fascinating subject. Really … complex.
Yeah, a real beauty. So, do you know how to make antibiotics or penicillin?
Humph. Off course I do. I've been partly responsible for many cures and medicines back in the good ole days. Anyone with a bit of medical background knowledge would recognize my name.
Really? You can invent new cures? Could you... Could you develop a cure for the zombie virus?
Not with what I've got here. Don't even know if it's a virus or a bacteria yet.
So, if we would give you the tools, could you make the cure?
Not for those things outside, probably, but the ones that are not yet turned? Who knows.
If it's science that screwed up, than it's science that has to go double or nothing to solve it.
Then it's settled. Sergeant Rogers, from now on you'll be his personal guard. Get his name into the system and make sure that Mr. Thuner gets everything to get his research started.
Sergeants log. Day 81
Well, I was planning to tell you guys what happened, but it seems I forgot to turn off the recorder. Even better, I'd say.
I'm really exited about our chances now that we have a serious scientist. No offense to the other four that survived, but they all specialized in other areas of expertise and are quite useless in the current situation. They're all doctors now or making antibiotics.
But this guy, this Dr. R. Thuner, he seems to be quite sure about what he can do. And to be fair, he does have this aura that promises success. He is, what's the word.... uhm.... Eccentric. That's it. He's eccentric. Maybe a bit crazy too. But that's probably the reason why he survived.
It's also the reason why the complex was empty and sealed tight. We found about 20 zombies in his 'lab', either dead or strapped down with duct tape. I don't know what he was doing with them, some were stabbed repeatedly in every limp, some were paralyzed and some had all their bones broken. And the strange thing is: Some of them seemed to be dead, like dead dead, when they were tortured. We kill these things every day, but Richard, that's his first name by the way, took it to a higher level. Hope he won't go too far.
But for now he won't, he doesn't have any equipment yet nor will he for the next few days. At the moment everything is still chaotic around here, supplies being repositioned, rooms being cleaned and decorated, and colonel Lee decided that all of our names and profiles are to be archived into a system this time. Back at Nastya's there were too many people coming and dying but now there aren't big groups of people coming in any more, and the death rate decreased. Who knows, it might improve things around here.
Also fun to know; you're starting to take in quite some place yourself. I've got like three dozen tapes lying around already, maybe I'll delete some of the most shallow and regular reports. I've got this little dresser in my room where I'm going to store you. Don't know if Dr. Thuner is going to use it too.
O, haven't I told you yet? Lee decided to have me and that crazy professor live together in one room. Mainly because he knows I'm a light sleeper and that people can do crazy shit these days. And maybe a bit because I'm starting to get a bit coo-coo myself. I mean, I am talking to you like you can actually hear me. Anyway, Lee doesn't want to leave the doc unprotected but he doesn't want to waste three soldiers' shifts either if it might not even be necessary.
At least I've got a decent bed again and I'll tell you what: Now that I'm a bodyguard I don't have to into the inner city. Lots of people who were guards before have to return to that hellish place again. And with the alleged purple zombie attacks getting more frequently, I'm happy with my easy life.
Sergeant Rogers out...
File number 00003
No official classification, not meant for publication.
File name: project Zombie.
Sub-file name: anatomy
Author: Dr. R. Thuner.
Head scientist: Dr. R. Thuner.
Highest superior: Dr. R. Thuner.
Initiative from; Dr. R. Thuner.
Hypothesis: The host might have mutated it's body after infection, causing a difference between infected and uninfected samples. Although there is no expectation of any advanced mutations, previous reports suggest cluttered blood and perhaps visible differences in the brains.
Test: Dissection of various samples: newly turned, one day turned, one week turned, with lot's of smaller injuries, with critical damage, well fed, underfed, dead, one day dead.
-Newly turned: There's blood in the subject's organs, especially lungs and throat, suggesting severe internal bleeding. Unknown is whether the blood is from the host or another victim. The bone marrow shows signs of severe deterioration. Suspected explanation for this feat is a violent attack on the immune system by the virus. The subject's brains do not show any difference with that of an uninfected subject.
-One day turned: Veins seem to have widened and the liver+kidneys show signs of malfunction. There's blood in the subject's organs, especially lungs and throat, suggesting severe internal bleeding, blood has not yet cluttered. Small black spots on the heart suggest future heart failure.The subject's brain does not show any difference with that of an uninfected subject.
-One week turned: The subject's brain shows small black spots on the frontal lobe and the parietal lobe. Veins seem to have widened further and the thin layer of muscle around the arteries seems to be deteriorating. The liver+kidneys show signs of heavy malfunction. The bone marrow seems to have hardened and died off. There's cluttered blood in the subject's organs, especially in the lungs, suggesting severe internal bleeding. Seems to be lesser than with previous samples.
-Lightly injured: Blood does not clutter around wounds, sample does not show traces of any difference with unharmed ones shortly after wounding. Scars do seem to develop around the wounds, accompanied by a white ooze.
-Critically injured: Vital organs show signs of dying off, but the subject's ability to move, remain conscious or, by lack of a better word, live, do not seem to be troubled by this. Organs: heart, kidneys, liver, stomach etc. No reactions in the body except the already seen scars and ooze. Ooze seems to pile up in stomach when heavily damaged.
-Well fed. Very fat subjects that are fed with raw meat seem to slow down. Although they still attempt to grab a person, they react slower and less strongly. These bloated subjects do not show any difference with regular subjects except the acidification of their inner body fat to a green brownish substance and the habit to eat infected meat, a feature that other subjects refuse to display.
-Underfed. Subjects with barely any bodily fat reserves and emptied stomachs seem to increase their wandering patterns and moan in a higher tone. They even seem capable of walking an awkward gait that goes slightly faster when spotting meat. Besides that they do not show any trace of physical or behavioral difference.
-Dead. When autopsy is preformed on a recently killed zombie, the flesh rapidly becomes more rigid and the blood will start to dry rapidly. Muscles show frequent spasms, but uncontrolled and very lightly. It is safe to assume that the zombie virus or bacteria prevents rigor mortis from occurring while the host is still alive.
-One day dead. The zombie shows signs of rigors mortis, and the spasms have stopped. The corpse still seems to be capable of forming scars, but not the ooze. The blood has dried out to a fine dust.
Doctors log. Part 1
Hello, I'm doctor Richard Thuner, and this is my log. I've got the idea from that sergeant they appointed as my babysitter. Didn't really picture him as the diary type, but it's a good idea for me to preserve my thoughts in recordings. I mean, why not?
Now that the sergeant and many other soldiers are around here, I can finally focus on other things than self-preservation, things like my research on the zombie virus. Although, it could be a bacteria, or a fungus, or maybe voodoo.
Nah, just kidding. It 's definitely not voodoo. Probably a bacteria. I'll find out soon enough. And it's about damn time, I invested more time in the last two months collecting scraps of paper to write on than actual research. I mean, I only managed to write out a few puny reports after all this time. The computer would have been really useful, had I known this place had a back up generator.
Now that my research is becoming more serious, I do see the benefits in a log like you.*laughter*
Look at me, referring to you as a person. How weird of me. Might as well give you a name. How about Rebecca? Then you'll be the memory of my late wife! *laughter* Nah, just kidding. I loved my wife, I was devastated when she turned.
I think she'd see me naming you after her as a compliment, she knew how much of a workaholic I am.
Well, Rebecca. In a few days I can begin my research and then we'll see what this virus really is. It's frustrating to research something without knowing what it is. I've heard they also have samples of alledged mutated zombies. How exciting. It'll be great to use my mind again after such a long time. In those two months I've barely written six reports. They're still in the safe where I left them, and where I'll leave you, Rebecca. Nighty night!
File number 00004
No official classification, not meant for public.
File name: project Zombie II.
Sub-file name: behavior.
Author: Dr. R. Thuner.
Head scientist: Dr. R. Thuner.
Highest superior: Dr. R. Thuner.
Initiative from; Dr. R. Thuner.
Hypothesis: The subject, a host infected by the disease I labeled 'homini Inferi pigri' also referred to as a 'zombie', seems to have lost the capability of showing insight, perception and self-preservation. The disease seems to have disabled all brain functions in the frontal lobe and the parietal lobe causing the host to succumb to a wandering body without identity or consciousness. If the hypothesis is correct, the host won't be capable of acting beyond the shallowest of instincts.
Test: The subjects will be tested on insight, perception and self-preservation. Them succeeding these tests will nullify the hypothesis.
-Insight: The host will be drawn to bait; perished meat underneath a desk. In order to grab it the host must first remove the blockade; a chair dead-bolted to the floor. The host cannot push it out of the way or reach the meat by force, but has to go underneath or use the fire-poker on the desk to reach it.
-Perception: The host will be drawn to bait; perished meat. The meat lies in an obvious trap that will kill the host when the meat is removed from its place. The host can see the blades, the ropes and the simple way of dismantling the trap. Around the trap are multiple other dead hosts, suggesting the trap to be deadly.
-Self-preservation. The host will be drawn to bait; perished meat. The meat lies in a trap that is not lethal or quickly sprung. In order to reach the meat the host will have to stick its hand in a hole with nails that will rip the skin off the flesh. When the host does reach the meat and thereby fail part one of the test, it's arm will be stuck in the trap unless it will let go of the meat.
Observations scrapped due to lack of paper.
Conclusion: All hosts do not show any insight, perception or self-preservation and have failed all three tests without exception. This conclusion suggests that homini Inferi pigri has indeed either destroyed or cut off the frontal lobe from the rest of its nervous system and cannot think beyond its instinctive urges.
The host will not be capable of using tools, seeking shelter from the elements or avoiding danger. This also suggest that it won't be possible to bring back the hosts to their original state by destroying the virus. In the unlikely event that the disease can positively mutate the host, these results may differ. The recent zombie strain is doomed to go extinct in the long term once its hosts reach a state of deterioration due to environmental circumstances.
Sergeants log. Day 84
*Long, relieved yawn*
Good morning, y'all.
Been the first time in quite a while that I managed to sleep well. I had to sleep on this old divan at Nastya's and we attracted every zombie within miles to Fort Pastor on our little road trip, so it has been gunfire night and day. But now the hordes outside are gone and most of the construction is done, this place finally became a oasis of peace.
And with the zombies outside gone, the first looting runs started too, making the halls less crowded. It was a real mess to guard a place so cramped when you don't even know exactly what area you have to guard. Doesn't matter, nothing happened so far anyway.
When I heard I was to be the guard of that Dr. Thuner, I misunderstood Lee. I was to be guarding the area where he works and I had to share a room with him. I prefer it, actually. I mean, I still have a real soldier's job with three men under my command (head security sector 12, lot's of cash without sweating it. O yeah), and I even get paid to sleep! I mean, you can't get it better these days.
In the world outside this place, things became less peaceful. As it seemed, it was pretty difficult for the leaders of Nastya's to pull up a new defense garrison after we pulled out. Not strange, ammo is running so low down there that it's nearly impossible for the bigwigs to actually pay the few individuals that still have some left. And those people rather make a living looting whatever is left in the inner city. In fact, I bet a whole week of salary that their gatekeepers will soon be reduced to melee fighters, maybe even crippled and aged ones.
Well, that's what you get for pushing us out. And from what I've heard, what little security they have left there is already swarming with Dogg's infiltrates. Prices have gone up so high that one would have to pay 50 dollars for a bag of crisps! Haha! That place is a mess!
Back to our situation. A few soldiers have been dispatched to a nearby hospital today at Dr. Thuner's request. The place has been looted empty many times already, but that was for medicines. The professor has asked them to find a microscope, some syringes and whatever scientific research-stuff they would stumble upon. Seems like he is actually gonna try to find a cure, he sure is crazy enough to do it.
For example: I've asked him what he's going to do, and he told me a story that dazzled my mind with complex words and Latin terms. I honestly did not know knowledge could physically hurt one's brain until then. Not to look stupid, I nodded and asked what he was going to research first. And you know what he said? He said, and I'm not lying, that he was going to throw balls at a zombie. That man is seriously crazy.
Conclusion: The subject does not have any reflexes at all. It simply moaned every time I threw a ball at it. It could clearly see the ball coming but showed no reaction to catch or protect itself from the ball before nor after being hit. And that destroyed our civilization...
File number 00006
No official classification, not meant for public.
File name: project Zombie II revision.
Sub-file name: behavior.
Author: Dr. R. Thuner.
Head scientist: Dr. R. Thuner.
Highest superior: Dr. R. Thuner.
Initiative from; Dr. R. Thuner.
Hypothesis: Recent sightings of wild hosts contradict the conclusion of file 00004: project zombie II. It appears that certain hosts still have a limited range of abilities aside from the general instinctive urges. Most likely, these abilities originate from the small brains, which may not be deteriorating as severely as the rest of the brain.
Test: This report is limited to observing due to a lack of specimens, no actual tests can be done at this time. Grounds for possible experimentation can be theorized upon, however.
Observations: The results from file 00004 state that the hosts cannot think beyond their range of instinctive urges. This conclusion appears to be premature, new observations suggest that they can in certain ways.
-It has been noted before that a host whose ability to walk is impeded, for example by breaking the kneecaps, is able to crawl to their target. See file <Not documented due to lack of paper>. This suggested that the instinctive urges can widen the host' range of abilities if the current methods didn't suffice. These observations were made prior to file 00004, but were disregarded as an oddity or to be within limitations of a purely instinctive drive.
-A few weeks after the outbreak, a child host could be seen wandering the streets. This host showed much more sophisticated movements in terms of raw speed compared to the regular hosts. This observation was considered to be a matter of anatomy rather than mental fortitude; that the physical differences between a young and an old host allowed younger hosts to move faster. There was still no need to question the results from file 00004.
-As mentioned in file 00003, obese people show different behaviour when eating. Eating infected meat and eating without signs of binge eating hint to the different eating patterns they had prior to their infection carrying over to their post-infected state. They will eat nourishment regardless of whether they need it, the substance is appetizing or being full or even bloated already.
-Roughly six weeks after the outbreak, the hosts wandering the streets seem to have homogenized over the city. During the first few weeks there were few sightings of hosts that didn't belong in this niche of urban environment. Being located in a factory of sorts, the specimens around the premise were all from people working in the surrounding industrial area; primarily working-class men between 20 and 65.
Over time however, there are more sightings of people who do not belong in this category. The aforementioned child was soon followed by others who didn't belong like upper-class wives wearing jewelery, party-goers, nurses, people wearing nightgowns, etc. In other words, people from districts that were meant for living or recreation. This is not a contradiction of file 0004 but setting up the premise to explain its incorrect conclusion.
Among the new specimens were more children who all appeared to be able to walk faster or run and fully-grown people who could also do this. After seeing a clearly retired host sprint, the conclusion that the difference lies in anatomy is clearly not correct. Amongst the runners was a high amount of people wearing jogging slacks, and one of the runners I managed to obtain had a card in their wallet suggesting it frequently ran as well.
The results of file 00004 were most likely influenced by a tainted specimen pool, the hosts wandering around the premise were of a target group unlikely to exercise in their spare time prior to their infection.
Theory: In order to explain this phenomenon, I believe it is necessary to regard the hosts' mental capability in terms of functional parts of the brain rather than a percent of functionality overall. It has already been concluded that the frontal lobe has deteriorated severely, but the small brains might still be as functional as the brain stem.
The small brains are used by humans to learn and maintain automatism of common actions; one does not need to actively will themselves to put one foot in front of the other when walking, people can type blindly with some practice, etc. When someone can do something without having to think about it, this thinking process is done subconsciously by the small brains. If the small brains are still active, any action they know that doesn't impede with the instinctive urges might still be possible for the hosts to execute.
Running might be an indication of this: While many people know how to run, few can start running without thinking about it consciously due to social inhibition. One is not supposed to run a lot in our late society and will more likely walk to wherever they need to go, whether this is the sidewalk, from the elevator to their booth or in the confinements of their house. The act to start running for most requires a thinking process located somewhere in the now deteriorated parts of the brain, few still start to run naturally when they want to go somewhere.
The statistically high amount of children running supports this theory, as this target group generally doesn't have this social inhibition yet. For the sake of humanity, it is probably a good thing we taught them not to run before reaching adulthood.
Conclusion: Aside from running, there might be a great number of actions the hosts can preform as long as it doesn't impede with their instinctive urges. Future observations might confirm this, the list below is of a range of specimens I should keep an eye out for special experimentation. This list may be added upon over time. The rarity suggests the likelihood of obtaining such a specimen and the probability suggests how likely the hypothesis will prove correct if the small brains are indeed responsive.
Specimen Behavioral anomaly Rarity Probability
-Mentally crippled Unable to preform alike regular E. high Great
specimens without physical ground.
-Boxer/Martial artist Able to make a fist or take a Medium Medium
fighting pose when attacking.
-Boxer/Martial artist Better/any reflexes when attacked Medium Low
-Anorexic Lacks urge to bite uninfected. Medium Low
-Firefighter or Burn trauma Recognizes and avoids the danger High Medium
of open flames/raging fires.
-Police or Military or Gun fanatic Able to handle or hold a firearm. Low Medium
-Desk clerk Able to type on a keyboard, High Low
no comprehensible text expected.
-Obesitas Binge eating Low High
-Obesitas Ignoring humans while eating. Low Medium
Doctors log. Part 2
Hey Rebecca. Nice to see you again. Been a while, hasn't it?
Those soldiers they dispatched for me finally returned. About time, I'm tired of sitting on my ass all day, and I'm dying to put my mind to something relevant again. I've been wasting the last few days reorganizing what little files I have and wandering around the living quarters trying to get observations from the people in the field to back up my theory of the revised file double-o, double-o four about special case zombies.
Which, in the ears of these plebeians, translates to asking about strong tales. You don't want to know how many people got offended when I told them I'm not interested in hear-say tales of 'purple' zombies and surviving large hordes, or who ridiculed me when I asked if they ever saw an anorexic zombie bite or a firefighter avoid a fire.
So I'm glad for a whole lot of reasons that I finally have my microscope. Got to work immediately and I was right, it's a bacteria. Can't say a lot about it yet, but I'm sure that I can work a lot more efficient now that I can observe my specimens on a cellular basis. I'm not exactly well-versed in macro-research.
But today has been a productive day too. I've taken a look at my used guinea pigs and the ones I severely injured, especially the few I burned, show signs of the blue scars mentioned in those strong tales all over their bodies. It's intriguing how these scars look alike the purple ones I found on some of the mutated samples the soldiers brought along. In fact, they seem so closely related, I'll have compare them next thing tomorrow.
Goodnight Rebecca. *recorder shuts off.*
Sergeants log. Day 86
My expectations seem to come true. Nastya's is slowly turning into the laughingstock of the city. It's been three days since we left the place and there are already people flooding in seeking asylum. Pleading for a new home in our new and improved camp.
Hehe, three days! Considering the time it would take a civvie to get over here, that must mean it took less than two days for them to realize Nastya's is screwed without us and fled like rats from a sinking ship.
Colonel Lee seems benevolent enough to let them in for now, but he already made it crystal clear that this place will be more organized and strict. No more scavengers coming in after dark, no complaining, so harassing soldiers. Anyone who doesn't like that can go back to Nastya's.
Order and discipline, that's what is being promised. And unlike those smug politicians from before the Fall, I have faith that Lee can make good on his promises.
So, what do you think, Doc?
Hm? *yawn* Me?
Yeah, you. Got two cents?
I don't know, I'm not exactly aware of what happened at Nastya's so I can't really form an opinion not tainted by the words of others. Although the way you described Lee's new ideals sound a bit like a military dictatorship.
Dictatorship? Those are some strong words, Doc.
Like I said, I got this vibe from your words, not my own observations.
Then what would those 'observations' of yours be, Doc? And I hope they aren't ground for me to put my foot up your ass.
Don't understand me wrong, Sergeant. My opinion would be that every government both past and present is in essence a dictatorship. Lee is the one in charge now, therefore he is the dictator. But our late president Trump and his predecessors were little more than puppets of the powerful few who remained in power regardless of elections, which thereby made our past democracy a form of dictatorship as well. And the leaders of Nastya's, Doggs and 13 are in essence dictators to by definition of having power.
If someone is the highest kind of power in their territory, they are a dictator in essence. The only relevant factors are how they choose to use their power and with what efficiency.
For what it's worth, someone with strict disciplines and a stable hierarchy like Col. Lee has the best foundations to be a good leader in these new circumstances. With a proper chain of command and such, his odds of being the most successful ruler in this city are higher than any other. If his leadership lives up to it, is yet to be seen.
I think you misunderstood the meaning of dictator there, Doc. A dictator is an evil ruler and such...
Western propaganda, Sergeant. You only hear of evil dictators because stable dictatorships aren't newsworthy. No dictator doesn't want his country to prosper, even if it's just for practical reasons. And dictatorships are actually quite successful most of the time.
Libya's wealth increased tremendously in the first few decades of Gadaffi's rule and the Soviet Union was an upward spiral of prosperity during its first few generations. And those are the dictatorships that you know of because they eventually went against the USA.
Are you suggesting what I think you are?
If you think I'm suggesting there is no such thing as a perfectly evil system of government, you're correct. No country is ever truly evil or good, albeit their propaganda would beg to differ. Just look at our history of independence, where they conveniently left out the real reason for the tea tax and the British invasion army.
Although I do realize you might disagree. Such a thing would be expected from a soldier, after all. And from most citizens. You grew up with certain believes and words of reason never change those.
I got the feeling we shouldn't talk to much if I don't want to become an outcast myself, doc. No offense, but the things you're saying...
Quite aware. I was already considered politically incorrect for not agreeing with either of the two appropriate world views before the apocalypse, I doubt the two months of solitude helped that. Just stick to non-political issues if you feel uncomfortable, Sergeant.
You might want to... not say those things in public, Doc. Others might argue against you with their fists rather than words, or gang up on you. People have a more hands-on approach these days.
Well aware, sergeant. Well aware.
But back on topic, Doc. What is your opinion on Lee's leadership? Without the political opinions, please.
First, the idea of giving one's opinion on a system of political management without political opinion is impossible by default.
Second, it has its advantages and disadvantages just like everything else. The place is much louder now, but I don't have to worry about the zombies attracted to the sound. I can't leave my possessions wherever I want them any more, but I can ask people for the stuff I don't have now. My living quarters have been reduced to one room, but I don't have to make a daily check of the entire premise for stragglers any more.
I preferred the anarchic lifestyle I had before, honestly, but this new system is more practical. The amount of zombies with canned food in their backpacks was dwindling so there's no telling when my rations would run out. A single person can't specialize in one field without wasting time on the groundwork like catching zombies. Time consuming, honestly. And most important of all; when a hundred men with guns enter your home, you don't refuse them entrance.
You- You're saying we invaded your house?
If you wouldn't have let me continue my work, I would have. But now it is the better solution of the two.
But I'm filling your whole journal, sergeant. What's your opinion of Lee's new regime?
Well, more order and such... Military protocols...
Lee is military and so is the main force of this camp. Off course there would be a military approach in his rulings. Speaks for itself. Is that really your whole opinion on this matter?
What? Well, uhm...
O dear, seems like the tape is about to run out. I better-
What do you mean, it still has about twenty minutes le-
*recorder shuts off.*
Sergeants log. Day 87
You won't believe what happened. It's horrible, O Jesus Christ...
Okay, okay. *deep breath* I think I have myself under control again. Woe, it sure shocked me when I heard it.
So, here's what happened: we have several spies all over town to be our eyes, and a few informed us about something so horrible, so shocking, that I could barely believe it had I not predicted it myself. Nastya's... Nastya's fell. Nastya's fell and hundreds are still being butchered out there.
I... I don't know how it happened yet, but more and more reports are coming in confirming that hundreds of zombies are running rampant in Nastya's. Rumors say that it was a whole horde of purple zombies, but nothing has been confirmed yet. Gosh, I'm getting sick just thinking about what must be happening down there.
I know that I was very negative about those people when they pushed us out, and they did some unspoken things that were uncalled for. But goddammit, they don't deserve this! There are women there, and children! So many innocent people that went through so much pain already! Oh, this is just horrible.
I don't get you. I thought you said those people were irrational bastards.
What the...? Goddammit Doctor! What the f*ck are you saying? Those are REAL people out there, dying and turning into... into those soulless beasts! Don't you have a heart at all?
I do have a heart yes, but I also have a brain. And that brain remembers the numerous nights that you have been cursing in yourself about what, and I quote, '*ssholes' they are. You've told me in great detail what idiots they are over and over again. You said they would be ran over any day now, and you laughed when you said it. It's a bit hypocritical to be so upset right now, don't you think?
Hey, Thuner, f*ck you! Those are real people dying out there! Women and children are amidst them! Those people deserve to live!
Yeah, sure they deserve to live, but that's their own call. Survival of the fittest. When they manage to get out of there, they'll live. Besides, this isn't day one. Most people are armed and prepared now. They know what to do when someone is infected or a zombie, and they damn sure know how to take those out. I assure you, they'll get back on the rail in no time. And probably with a few mouths less to feed.
You heartless bastard! How could you... Yeah, those people banished us, but they're still people! They are still PEOPLE!
Now listen to me pal, and listen very well. I did NOT survive this long by being a oversimplified ideologist! I survived by having priorities, and those priorities were to keep myself alive! If I would have tried to save every fellow human in peril, if I cried for every single companions that fell, and if I would had waited for the unlucky to turn before disposing them, I'd be dead by now!
And so would you, right? You had to take rash decisions to survive too, right? You could not help everyone you met either, right? You had to leave the weak and stubborn behind, RIGHT? Don't tell me you never had to sacrifice others to get here! You had to, or you wouldn't be standing here right now. And you know I'm right, your face tells me more than a thousand words could.
*Thuner takes a long breath and resumes speaking, his calmth restored*
So why are you suddenly caring about these people? They aren't strangers to you, or panicking civilians you're supposed to protect. From what I gathered, they are your competitors at best and your enemies at worst. The deliberately pushed you out of your home and committed several hate-crimes against your brothers and you! So why care about them so badly? Because you currently don't have to survive yourself? That's bullshit.
Well, I... uhm... but...
F*ck, what am I thinking? Sure, there might be a bunch of *ssholes down there, and worthless scum. But there are also children down there! Innocent, little children! Little sparkly eyes with a whole future ahead of them! THEY deserve to live!
*sigh* If there is one thing I hate more than someone being irrational, it is when someone is repeating the same weak argument over and over again. You want arguments? Solid, ice-cold arguments? You want those? Well, you can get them!
Those children you're talking about, those are orphans! And not just orphans, but orphans who saw their parents being torn apart right in front of them! Orphans whom had to bash in the skulls of their own grandmothers! Orphans whom now have to survive in a place where nobody can take care of them! They are dying of famine as we speak, or hiding in a dark alley until the cholera does them in! There is no way they'd live to see the next year anyhow!
If anything, zombification is a more merciful way out! This is not cheery like in those fairy tales we used to tell. It does not have a happy end like those movies we used to love! What I'm telling you is what is REALLY going on right now, and it's not pretty like we would want it to be! It's a horrible, wretched world we live in, and you better realize it, because it's real!
F*CK YOU! YOU SON OF A...
*sound of the recorder being thrown and hitting a wall. Loud static.*
File number 00009
Second grade classification. Military jurisdiction.
File name: project Zombie cure.
Sub-file name: Achilles heel, page I
Author: Dr. R. Thuner.
Head scientist: Dr. R. Thuner.
Highest superior: Colonel Lee
Initiative from; Dr. R. Thuner&Colonel Lee.
Hypothesis: Findings from previous reports of project zombie state that homini Inferi pigri is a bacteria, to be precise a bacilli with very cell-specific aggressive behavior. Although a bacteria like this one is pretty much unheard of, it's still a bacteria and thus vulnerable to medicines. Now is the time to find out what medicines that would be.
Test: Try out any available drugs on infected specimens to observe reactions of the bacteria and the host. Drugs I could lay my hands on so far are;
-Antibiotics. seven different types. Because this is a whole group of medicines specifically meant to be used against bacteria, I expect promising results from these.
-Morphine, a strong and common painkiller, known for it's addictive side effects. A sudden deactivation of the pain receptors could prove out fascinating to the scar&ooze reaction of the subject's tissue.
-Viagra. A drug used to get erections, but which also decreases the blood circulation of the lungs. Playing with the bloodstream could turn out to be a funny an potentially useful experiment.
-Heartburn tablets. Pretty much a tablet of alkaline which resolves in the stomach. Previous experiments on the subject's stomach has shown signs of acid ooze piling up there. Adding a neutralizing substance would reverse this phenomenon and might give interesting results when the subject is eating.
-Vareniclin, the aid a smoker apparently needs to quit. It's pretty cheap these days, those whom smoke are either dead or not about to quit. Blocking the nicotine-receptors of the host could give some observations. I don't know, I got them for free when I bought a pack of cigarettes. The irony.
Observations: There have been a few interesting results that will certainly help me to either create a cure or a weapon against the homini Inferi pigri strain.
-Antibiotics: Certain antibiotics showed promising results at first. The host showed signs of weakness and fatigue, the tissue showed signs of unfamiliar deterioration at a microscopic level, and lots of the bacteria in question were destroyed.
The bacterial presence as a whole didn't die through, regardless of the amount or concentration of the medicine. And the surviving bacteria seemed to reproduce rapidly until former concentration in the tissue was reached again, with improved resistance to the drug. Micro-evolution.
These improved strains were incinerated immediately after results.
In conclusion, the antibiotics in my possession, which are also the only kinds of antibiotics that we can produce or loot in greater numbers, are not effective enough against the zombie-strain thus far. Although it might be possible to develop a variant which might work.
-Morphine. The bacteria did not show very promising observations when the morphine was added, and the host did not show any different reactions when exposed to pain, including the ooze reaction. From this can be concluded that the reaction isn't triggered by the host but by the strain.
A few subjects are to be remaining alive to see whether they can grow addicted to the drug, and if this might trigger a reaction when given the right impulses.
-Viagra. The bacteria didn't show any reaction to the 'medicine', but it does trigger an erection by some hosts. The host also shows minor signs of breathing problems, but this side-effect is not lethal. No useful observations were gained from this experiment, and there is no reason for further experimenti... <end of page>
Doctor's notes. Achilles project.
*sound of a couple of neon-lamps buzzing, with some moaning every now and then.*
… Subjects show slight problems with breathing. The male subject has an erections, stating that the penis has not lost his primary function. No other visible effects on the female subject...
*One of the moans in the background becomes louder. Metal chains moving a bit. One barely audible sniff. Intensity of the moaning decreases again.*
No difference in scent of the breath, or should I say odor? Obvious increased difficulty with breathing though. Most likely due to their reduced brain capacities not being flexible enough to increase the automatic chest reflexes… But it might be something else. I'd better investigate a bit further.
*Sound of footsteps, followed by a soft clinking of metal, and more footsteps accompanied by the rattling of little wheels.*
Here we are. Let's take a look at the chart; 'Subject 52. drug testing sample, Viagra. 17st of May.' And now adding 'surgical procedure to the lungs: observation' to the chart.
*Sound of a pen going over paper with short strokes. The shard is put down again.*
Bureaucracy all done, let the procedure begin!
Making the first incision now, from the upper collarbone to the diaphragm... *moan...* Ugh, this abomination's breath is disgusting. There, incision made. Opening chest for examination.
*sickening sound of flesh being pulled from the ribcage.*
No visible differences with regular subjects, coloration normal. I can't conclude if the breathing rhythm differs. Observations confirmed so far, only an examination of the bronchi and the alveolar left. Good thing I brought the mobile aggregate with me.
*Sounds of a plug being plugged in, followed by the high-pinched sound of a small electrical bone-saw. Moaning. Edge of the saw-blade touching an object and slowly cutting through, repeated twelve times.*
There we go. Got rid of the ribcage, making an incision in the right lung. Let's see... No differences with previous examinations. No abnormal coloration and blood clotting has not decreased.
Hm. Subject just died, most likely due to suffocation caused by the removal of its ribcage. Hypothesis confirmed, test results are useless for further experiments.
Well, that's about it for now. Just have to get rid of the bodies and start writing my report. Let's do the report first...
*Sound of a type machine being put at work, Dr. Thuner softly repeating the words he's typing while doing so.*
*A door opening, followed by metal-tipped boots tapping over the tiled floor. *
*Throat being grasped.*
Yes, what is it?
*Wheelchair turning around.*
Ah, Colonel Lee. How may I help you?
How may I help you, Sir?
That's better. So, I just walked by to check on your research. See how much progress you made in one week.
Well, I haven't really got anything solid yet, but prospects are promising. I'm testing the effects of medicines on the strain right now.
And, found a cure yet?
*Thuner laughs, it is hard to tell whether it is a polite laugh or a stifled honest one.*
Wait, you're kidding right? Not even a fully equipped team of scientists with an endless budget could develop a cure within one week, especially not for a bacteria this uncommon.
I see. So, when do you think you will have a cure ready for deployment? Another week, maybe two?
Sir, I don't think you understand just how much work is needed for something like this, even if I get a miraculous breakthrough. Nobody can predict a breakthrough before it happens, but the same counts for disappointments. Finding a drug effective enough could already take many...
No excuses, doctor. How long?
Until I'll have a fully operational cure? Unless I were to find an already invented medicine to be effective, seven months would be a good first guess.
SEVEN GODDAMN MONTHS? ARE YOU TELLING ME I'LL HAVE TO WAIT SEVEN MONTHS FOR A GODDAMN CURE? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY PEOPLE WILL DIE IN THOSE SEVEN MONTHS?
Seven months, maybe more. I'm sorry, but that's simply the way it is. Any sooner would simply be unrealistic. There could be a breakthrough soon, but it would be utterly ridiculous to count on that.
*Still panting from his outburst, Colonel Lee slowly regathers his calm*
Fine, I guess you're the expert here. Maybe it was a bit optimistic, two weeks. Especially in times like these. You just continue with whatever you doing around here, but I expect some useful results in seven weeks so we at least know you know what you're doing. You hear that? Seven weeks, and you better keep yourself out of trouble. Rumors are spreading about what you're doing in here, cutting open zombies alive and stuff. You better not doing stupid stuff like...
Is that zombie having an erection?
Yes sir. Yes, it has.
Well how did he get it?
You've injected a zombie with Viagra?
Yes sir. To check if it would have any effect on the blood circulation of the lungs.
Well, I didn't actually inject it, it comes in pill form, but you know...
What the...? I thought you were a serious scientist, not some stupid joker! Is this really your research? IS THIS YOUR GODDAMN RESEARCH? You idiot! People are dying out there while you are CLOWNING AROUND with zombies! That's it, I'm shutting down this project next thing tomorrow!
But sir, it could have provided me with essential information! One will never know if he never tries!
And besides, do you have any idea how hard it is to scrape together real medicines around here without money? People on the streets are too pessimistic to give me stuff for free when they can sell for a thousand dollars, they barely even believe I can make a cure at all! I'm lucky to have collected what I have now in just three days!
Two weeks, doctor. Two weeks, and then I expect results or you're fired!
*Sound of Colonel Lee storming out of the laboratory, the doors loudly shutting behind him with a loud 'BANG!'*
Hehe, Colonel Lee's gaze got drawn by the erect zombie phallus. I wonder what that might entail.
*recorder shuts off*