"Week 2, day 1. It was a dark day when the epidemic broke out. I was a surviving civilian selected to lead a platoon of soldiers into this mess. Word gets around when you can bike for a mile, slay 53 Zombies, and save 3 families in the process. The government picked us up from my dad's shop. He would have been proud to know his auto shop saved 10 of us.
My dad was a strong man... He just didn't believe me when I told him what I knew. One of them was just laying on the ground over another, and all my dad saw was a woman mourning her husband who had suddenly died. It was already too late when she turned around and he saw all the blood and gore dripping from her jaw. It's a dark day indeed when you're a block away from safety and you have to ease your fathers passing and kill his assailant as well. It took mum all she had just to walk away and keep the group moving. I guess she's stronger then I ever thought she could be.
But the past is gone. It's funny that I have to remind myself of that less and less as this goes on. We officially passed the 2 week marker of the epidemic yesterday... But the government likes to keep things hush hush like that. It's been close to a month and a half since the first day and my dad... The best part about it is that I've got my brothers behind me on this. One of the families I saved that first day was like my second family back when the world was normal. And after I was chosen to lead the platoon, my brothers stood beside me and stared down the General like he was nothing. Take us or leave us, I guess. Heh... Good men. Both of them.
So here we are on week 2 day 1 of the epidemic. I started off on this mission with a company of 20, not including me. And after the two weeks we were down to just me and 12 others. It's been a good run though. Every other platoon that was sent out returned after the first week in need of more supplies and troops. We are the best squad out in the field and we've come to trust each other. It's funny... I never really knew how call signs started within an army. Turns out we gave each other names based on what we saw. I wont bother to go through all... but some are pretty good. My brothers got there names pretty quickly. Phoenix got his handle simply because he's the balls of the team. No matter what mess we got into he'd rush in with his shot gun and battle axe and help us rise from the ashes of a failed attempt to engage the enemy. Eagle got his in pretty much the same way. I swear those brothers of mine have a secret radio to each other I don't know about. Whenever Phoenix goes in for a strike, Eagle takes the high ground and unleashed hell with the sniper rifle he took. We've got Enrique in there too. No matter what the standard issue guides tell you, signing doesn't matter. Zombies will find you whether you're quiet or not. When he takes his watch or we're getting ready to go for the day, he'll bust out with a song that we all know. Lately we've been running through a lot of Disney stuff... Hey... when you're in this situation morale is key. Sphinx never does talk much... But a man like him doesn't really need to. 7'3" tall and nothing but pure muscle. His hands are too big for guns, and he accepts that with grace. He's the only one I've ever seen never get tired after walking a few miles carrying his supplies, his weapons, and doing it all wearing a glorious suit of armour. I'd hate to be those Zombies with him as an enemy. 7 feet and 3 inches of shining plate mail armour, a huge maul hammer, a bardiche, two swords and a shield draped over his back. This man is the very figure of a knight come to save the day.
But what really makes me smile is that the troops gave me my handle from all the video games i used to play. But other then my brothers, none of them knew I was a gamer. I guess it doesn't help with my gear, but still. I found a not-so-standard-issue long black coat. Something like Blade used to wear in the movies. I've cut down hoards of Zombies with dual magnums, I've sundered enemies with a Katana or two, and I have reaped the fields of undead with my battle scythe. My men have named me. My enemies have fallen before me.
I am the Reaper, and this is my realm..."
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
Getting Into The Flow
"Week 2, day 4. I feel it's important to write today. My platoon is down to half it's original number. We were given new orders over our radios from HQ that we have effectively secured a route inside the city. However the buildings are still an issue. We lost Ice Man and Lil' Jim when we tried to clear our 4th building. The first 3 went off without a hitch. Get in, get 'er done, get out. But this one didn't feel right from the start. We got in and that's when the problems started. Nothing but endless cubicles and desks piled on top of desks. Trees and plants were there too. Which was weird because the undead will eat anything living. Plant life included. Way too many places for Zombies to hide. Ice Man and Lil' Jim volunteered to go first. I guess they were pretty close in all of this because they just took one look at each other and took the first steps. They cleared a good chunk of everything away before it all went to hell. *scoff*
'Damned things can still fly!'
'They're everywhere! Oh my God they're everywhere!'
That's all I heard before I saw hundreds of undead pigeons flying toward us. Ice Man and Lil' Jim were completely covered in almost seconds. We sent an emergency radio dispatch to HQ while we were running away. We managed to get outside and lock the doors behind us. A quick check tells me that we only lost two... The two friends that went in together, and went down together. I'm sad I never got to know them as well as I'd have liked to.
Honestly, this is where I would take a step in my late father's shoes. 'Now son,' he would say to me, ' you know I feel bad about saying it. But there are times in life, where you would lose less by turning a rogue city into a parking lot.' Personally I agree in this instance. It's possible that we eliminate chances of finding survivors in the area, and all the money it would take to rebuild the city... But from what I understand we've already lost 67 troops in this endeavour and we've only found 20-some odd survivors... Numbers like that just don't make sense to me. However the government seldom ever did.'
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
'Damned things can still fly!'
'They're everywhere! Oh my God they're everywhere!'
That's all I heard before I saw hundreds of undead pigeons flying toward us. Ice Man and Lil' Jim were completely covered in almost seconds. We sent an emergency radio dispatch to HQ while we were running away. We managed to get outside and lock the doors behind us. A quick check tells me that we only lost two... The two friends that went in together, and went down together. I'm sad I never got to know them as well as I'd have liked to.
Honestly, this is where I would take a step in my late father's shoes. 'Now son,' he would say to me, ' you know I feel bad about saying it. But there are times in life, where you would lose less by turning a rogue city into a parking lot.' Personally I agree in this instance. It's possible that we eliminate chances of finding survivors in the area, and all the money it would take to rebuild the city... But from what I understand we've already lost 67 troops in this endeavour and we've only found 20-some odd survivors... Numbers like that just don't make sense to me. However the government seldom ever did.'
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
Calling In Some Favours
"Week 2, day 5. Seems HQ is willing to pull some favours for it's hard working troops. My platoon is going to get the day off. And seeing how it's been almost 50 days (off the record time included) I'm pretty sure my men deserve it. Enrique and Sphinx are going to go work on some cars today. Their family were claimed by the epidemic within the first two weeks, and since they both enjoy working on cars they've bonded pretty tightly. Hex is going to the bar. Says he hasn't had a drink in two years but this is reason enough to celebrate. Shakespear, Kaden and Scales are going to try and find their families in the baracks. Rex and Mako are going to find some games to play. They've always got a portable chess set somewhere between the two of them. Eagle and Phoenix are going to see their family which is good. They're all pulling through and supporting us all the way. They are truely wonderful people. I would have gone with them but I was called to HQ instead... Someone has to keep their minds on the job at all times. And I'm more then happy to let the others forget the horrors of the present with their family and friends.
It still seems odd to have fully trained army personnel salute to me. It seems like I'm actually respected for what my troops and I have done. It's not a bad feeling to get used to...
'Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes!'
Turns out I was called to HQ for a surprise visit. Captain James S. (code name: Watcher) was called into duty in this region and he's being assigned to my platoon. The general said there was another coming, but the chopper she's on is a little late. And in this world, a little late is never good.
Watcher and I attended the same college before this started. Together we could hack up a storm and leave humour and wasted time in it's wake. I found out that's why he was called on to my team. HQ thinks we'll run into a few banks that have items that are more useful in our hands then just sitting and gathering dust.
Conversation insued as it normally does between friends and I figured out he led a large detachment of his own before he got transfered to me. Watcher had always been a big guy, and it seems that paid off. Most people wouldn't have had an easy time carrying the load he did. At times like this no one went anywhere without their weapons, and Watcher was not one to forgo the ways that kept you alive. A giant double headed axe hung by his side and a rocket launcher with 8 rounds were strapped to his back. And his lap top in a bag, just like I remembered it. Just another guy who wont take any crap from Zombie hoardes.
'Reaper to the landing zone. I repeat, Reaper to the landing zone,' came the call over the speakers. Seems that whoever 'she' is is finally here.
When Watcher and I made it to the landing zone, the helicopter was already refueled and on it's way back from wherever it came. And on the landing platform was who we were waiting for. Wearing a black dress that clung to her torso and flowed to her knees, with knee high boots, and a black ribbon holding back her hair, Viper picked up her AK47 and slung it over her shoulder. I noticed as she was walking towards us that she had throwing knives strapped over her dress as well.
'Reaper... It's been a while,' she said with a wink. And quite a while it had been indeed. Back in the control room I was informed that both Watcher and Viper were to be assigned to my platoon. It wasn't so much a shock that I was getting more troops... It was who I was getting that surprised me.
As we walked back to meet up with the rest of the platoon after their day off, I informed the two new members on what had happened so far. Every detail was given to them. It didn't make sense to hold anything back. We were so deep in the conversation that I almost walked straight into Eagle and the others.
'Yo Reaps! Mum, Dad and Val say hi and wish you the best.'
And with that... It seems like I got my day off too. My platoon turned into my friends, my brothers and I were tighter then we'd ever been, my friends from my past became my allies, and my remaining family was safe. This was among the best days of my life"
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
It still seems odd to have fully trained army personnel salute to me. It seems like I'm actually respected for what my troops and I have done. It's not a bad feeling to get used to...
'Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes!'
Turns out I was called to HQ for a surprise visit. Captain James S. (code name: Watcher) was called into duty in this region and he's being assigned to my platoon. The general said there was another coming, but the chopper she's on is a little late. And in this world, a little late is never good.
Watcher and I attended the same college before this started. Together we could hack up a storm and leave humour and wasted time in it's wake. I found out that's why he was called on to my team. HQ thinks we'll run into a few banks that have items that are more useful in our hands then just sitting and gathering dust.
Conversation insued as it normally does between friends and I figured out he led a large detachment of his own before he got transfered to me. Watcher had always been a big guy, and it seems that paid off. Most people wouldn't have had an easy time carrying the load he did. At times like this no one went anywhere without their weapons, and Watcher was not one to forgo the ways that kept you alive. A giant double headed axe hung by his side and a rocket launcher with 8 rounds were strapped to his back. And his lap top in a bag, just like I remembered it. Just another guy who wont take any crap from Zombie hoardes.
'Reaper to the landing zone. I repeat, Reaper to the landing zone,' came the call over the speakers. Seems that whoever 'she' is is finally here.
When Watcher and I made it to the landing zone, the helicopter was already refueled and on it's way back from wherever it came. And on the landing platform was who we were waiting for. Wearing a black dress that clung to her torso and flowed to her knees, with knee high boots, and a black ribbon holding back her hair, Viper picked up her AK47 and slung it over her shoulder. I noticed as she was walking towards us that she had throwing knives strapped over her dress as well.
'Reaper... It's been a while,' she said with a wink. And quite a while it had been indeed. Back in the control room I was informed that both Watcher and Viper were to be assigned to my platoon. It wasn't so much a shock that I was getting more troops... It was who I was getting that surprised me.
As we walked back to meet up with the rest of the platoon after their day off, I informed the two new members on what had happened so far. Every detail was given to them. It didn't make sense to hold anything back. We were so deep in the conversation that I almost walked straight into Eagle and the others.
'Yo Reaps! Mum, Dad and Val say hi and wish you the best.'
And with that... It seems like I got my day off too. My platoon turned into my friends, my brothers and I were tighter then we'd ever been, my friends from my past became my allies, and my remaining family was safe. This was among the best days of my life"
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
Umm... Sir? We've got a problem
"Week 3, Day 1. Yesterday was a bad day. We ran into a few problems, and what's worse is that a couple of them could have been fixed.
First off, let me state that we're still in the process of clearing the buildings. We took care of those nasty pigeons from a few days ago by sending in a squad with basic spam weapons. No matter how good a shot you think you are... undead pigeons are harder to hit then you'd think. So shotguns and heavy machine guns did the trick with minimal loses. After they counted the avian bodies they discovered that there must have been near 400 birds in that one building alone. I put in a request to have Ice Man and Lil' Jim's bodies returned to us for proper burial. The squad had my back saying it would be the right thing to do.
Secondly, we've found problems bigger then pigeons. We came across a small animal hospital that still had it's light on. We could hear it from a mile away with that old generator it was pumping. So Hex, Scales, Phoenix, Watcher and I went in to look. I know you'd probably say that's a bad idea, just like splitting up in horror movies... But in a world like this you realize what a comfort it is to have people watching your escape route. So while we were looking around the building trying to find whoever was keeping the generator running we kept finding random body parts. This fact in itself isn't unusual. Zombies don't care which parts they eat first as long as it's still warm flesh. So sometimes things get too cold for them before they can finish. But these parts looked like they'd been surgically removed and then just tossed on the ground. One room we searched actually had a couple zombies hanging from chains on the wall. Hex actually threw up, but part of me thinks he's snuck in a few bottles of alcohol since our day off. But eventually we found our man. Turns out there was an actual doctor in the back of the clinical area, but he didn't seem... right. You know? And the whole time we were walking towards him a noise that wasn't coming from the generator was getting louder too, and it wasn't a happy noise either. The doctor told us he'd been waiting for someone like us from the government to show up.
He'd been waiting for us... That should have been our first clue that our guts weren't lying. We told him to stop and identify himself, but he just walked into a back room and started fiddling with chains. When he'd almost finished he said that he was it's father and that it would listen to him. And as he unfastened the last chain the large bundle in the back of the room stirred. The doctor looked at the bundle like it was his child, with something of a crazed grin on his face. That should have been our second hint that this wasn't going to be pretty. After the bundle across the room started to really kick around the doctor came at us. Nothing but a simple scalpel in his hand, but Hex was slow on his reaction time and we were focusing on the moving blankets. A three bullet burst was excessive for the take down, but after the crazed doctor was dead we realized Hex had the scalpel sticking out of the back of his hand. I should have told him at this point to head outside and get Shakespeare to help him with the medic kit. But as soon as the sound of the bullets died down, the bundle on the table sat up.
With the blankets falling away from it, we saw that this bundle wasn't just a Zombie... it was quite a few Zombies all laced into one body. This thing had six legs that had it walking like an insect. Four massive arms that were surgically enhanced at the ends by removing the hands and turning the forearm bones into sharp spears. A torso twice the size of any normal person. And three heads with those dead, black eyes and the jaws just opening and closing with that unsatiable hunger. Everyone backed away slowly but this thing has already seen us, and we knew what it wanted. When the abomination started to move everything just slowed down in my mind. It moved so much quicker then the other zombies. It may have been the six legs all working at once. Hex was closest and we knew he was gone when it started moving. Four arm-spears to the chest lifted him off the ground and three heads descended on him. One head on either side of his neck and the third right on his face. It happened so quickly that Hex never got any shots off. In the split second it took for him to die we all ran. It wasn't exactly cowardice on our parts, but that was a huge chunk of it. Something like this you see in the movies and think, 'We can take it!!' But in real life... This thing wasn't natural, and it was made specifically for us.
Running back down the hallway, past the hanging Zombies, and out the front door. This thing was coming for us though. It knew we had more meat then Hex did alone. I think that was the very first time I barked orders to my squad. Half the squad knew what had happened, and the other half didn't. But everyone knew enough to listen when I gave an order. Eagle got back on one of the Humvees and lined up with the door. Sphinx, Phoenix and Watcher stood their ground, Bardiche, Shotgun, and Axe ready in their hands. Viper lined up her AK47. Rex and Mako got on the mounted Gatling guns on the Humvees. Kaden, Scales and I got our battle rifles ready. Shakespeare got behind the line of vehicles and poked over the hood with his magnum. And Enrique got beside him with an assault rifle. A perfect semi-circle of death aimed completely at this door. Things got worse when the abomination decided to make it's own door. Cement bricks and concrete flew everywhere to the right as the abomination came rushing through the wall. Every single weapon and body turned towards the exploding debris. Our front line turned to rush towards it, and battle rifles, the AK47, the sniper rifle, and the two mounted guns rained lead into it's body like it was nobody's business. Shotgun rounds punctuated the noise, and the sound of metal cleaving through skin and bone were repeatedly heard. In a sick sort of way, this was the perfect orchestra from hell.
The beast had a running start however and managed to get into the middle of us. Our formation was forgotten in the need to stay alive in this dance of bone and bullets. Kaden and Scales were both speared right beside me. I could feel their life blood spraying onto my face. Phoenix got in from behind and scattered the brain matter of two heads all over the street. And Sphinx managed to take off a couple of it's arms. But the whirling path of destruction wasn't easily forced down. The fire from my battle rifle and Viper's AK47 had literally torn the last head into Swiss cheese. The beast fell forward with the smack of dead weight meeting concrete. After our fierce battle was done, we estimated over 200 bullets and two of our crew were expended to take down the abomination. It was a truly awful day.
Watcher, Sphinx and I went back inside to collect Hex's body and kill the hanging Zombies, while the others maintained the perimeter and got the fuel canisters ready. HQ told us if we had men down or any problems to report then we should send up a smoke signal and someone would contact us. Power was running low in the base and even the radios couldn't be charged all the time. So we burnt the creature that the crazed doctor had called 'it', and we prepped Hex, Kaden, and Scales to be carried away in whatever vehicle would come to contact us while the smoke drifted upwards... Our number is down to 10, including me. Enrique, our ballistics expert. Sphinx, our knight in shinning armour. Shakespeare, our medic. Rex and Mako, our engineer and mechanic. Watcher, our hacker/demolitions expert. Viper, our assassin. Eagle, our sniper. Phoenix, our balls. And me... The Reaper."
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
First off, let me state that we're still in the process of clearing the buildings. We took care of those nasty pigeons from a few days ago by sending in a squad with basic spam weapons. No matter how good a shot you think you are... undead pigeons are harder to hit then you'd think. So shotguns and heavy machine guns did the trick with minimal loses. After they counted the avian bodies they discovered that there must have been near 400 birds in that one building alone. I put in a request to have Ice Man and Lil' Jim's bodies returned to us for proper burial. The squad had my back saying it would be the right thing to do.
Secondly, we've found problems bigger then pigeons. We came across a small animal hospital that still had it's light on. We could hear it from a mile away with that old generator it was pumping. So Hex, Scales, Phoenix, Watcher and I went in to look. I know you'd probably say that's a bad idea, just like splitting up in horror movies... But in a world like this you realize what a comfort it is to have people watching your escape route. So while we were looking around the building trying to find whoever was keeping the generator running we kept finding random body parts. This fact in itself isn't unusual. Zombies don't care which parts they eat first as long as it's still warm flesh. So sometimes things get too cold for them before they can finish. But these parts looked like they'd been surgically removed and then just tossed on the ground. One room we searched actually had a couple zombies hanging from chains on the wall. Hex actually threw up, but part of me thinks he's snuck in a few bottles of alcohol since our day off. But eventually we found our man. Turns out there was an actual doctor in the back of the clinical area, but he didn't seem... right. You know? And the whole time we were walking towards him a noise that wasn't coming from the generator was getting louder too, and it wasn't a happy noise either. The doctor told us he'd been waiting for someone like us from the government to show up.
He'd been waiting for us... That should have been our first clue that our guts weren't lying. We told him to stop and identify himself, but he just walked into a back room and started fiddling with chains. When he'd almost finished he said that he was it's father and that it would listen to him. And as he unfastened the last chain the large bundle in the back of the room stirred. The doctor looked at the bundle like it was his child, with something of a crazed grin on his face. That should have been our second hint that this wasn't going to be pretty. After the bundle across the room started to really kick around the doctor came at us. Nothing but a simple scalpel in his hand, but Hex was slow on his reaction time and we were focusing on the moving blankets. A three bullet burst was excessive for the take down, but after the crazed doctor was dead we realized Hex had the scalpel sticking out of the back of his hand. I should have told him at this point to head outside and get Shakespeare to help him with the medic kit. But as soon as the sound of the bullets died down, the bundle on the table sat up.
With the blankets falling away from it, we saw that this bundle wasn't just a Zombie... it was quite a few Zombies all laced into one body. This thing had six legs that had it walking like an insect. Four massive arms that were surgically enhanced at the ends by removing the hands and turning the forearm bones into sharp spears. A torso twice the size of any normal person. And three heads with those dead, black eyes and the jaws just opening and closing with that unsatiable hunger. Everyone backed away slowly but this thing has already seen us, and we knew what it wanted. When the abomination started to move everything just slowed down in my mind. It moved so much quicker then the other zombies. It may have been the six legs all working at once. Hex was closest and we knew he was gone when it started moving. Four arm-spears to the chest lifted him off the ground and three heads descended on him. One head on either side of his neck and the third right on his face. It happened so quickly that Hex never got any shots off. In the split second it took for him to die we all ran. It wasn't exactly cowardice on our parts, but that was a huge chunk of it. Something like this you see in the movies and think, 'We can take it!!' But in real life... This thing wasn't natural, and it was made specifically for us.
Running back down the hallway, past the hanging Zombies, and out the front door. This thing was coming for us though. It knew we had more meat then Hex did alone. I think that was the very first time I barked orders to my squad. Half the squad knew what had happened, and the other half didn't. But everyone knew enough to listen when I gave an order. Eagle got back on one of the Humvees and lined up with the door. Sphinx, Phoenix and Watcher stood their ground, Bardiche, Shotgun, and Axe ready in their hands. Viper lined up her AK47. Rex and Mako got on the mounted Gatling guns on the Humvees. Kaden, Scales and I got our battle rifles ready. Shakespeare got behind the line of vehicles and poked over the hood with his magnum. And Enrique got beside him with an assault rifle. A perfect semi-circle of death aimed completely at this door. Things got worse when the abomination decided to make it's own door. Cement bricks and concrete flew everywhere to the right as the abomination came rushing through the wall. Every single weapon and body turned towards the exploding debris. Our front line turned to rush towards it, and battle rifles, the AK47, the sniper rifle, and the two mounted guns rained lead into it's body like it was nobody's business. Shotgun rounds punctuated the noise, and the sound of metal cleaving through skin and bone were repeatedly heard. In a sick sort of way, this was the perfect orchestra from hell.
The beast had a running start however and managed to get into the middle of us. Our formation was forgotten in the need to stay alive in this dance of bone and bullets. Kaden and Scales were both speared right beside me. I could feel their life blood spraying onto my face. Phoenix got in from behind and scattered the brain matter of two heads all over the street. And Sphinx managed to take off a couple of it's arms. But the whirling path of destruction wasn't easily forced down. The fire from my battle rifle and Viper's AK47 had literally torn the last head into Swiss cheese. The beast fell forward with the smack of dead weight meeting concrete. After our fierce battle was done, we estimated over 200 bullets and two of our crew were expended to take down the abomination. It was a truly awful day.
Watcher, Sphinx and I went back inside to collect Hex's body and kill the hanging Zombies, while the others maintained the perimeter and got the fuel canisters ready. HQ told us if we had men down or any problems to report then we should send up a smoke signal and someone would contact us. Power was running low in the base and even the radios couldn't be charged all the time. So we burnt the creature that the crazed doctor had called 'it', and we prepped Hex, Kaden, and Scales to be carried away in whatever vehicle would come to contact us while the smoke drifted upwards... Our number is down to 10, including me. Enrique, our ballistics expert. Sphinx, our knight in shinning armour. Shakespeare, our medic. Rex and Mako, our engineer and mechanic. Watcher, our hacker/demolitions expert. Viper, our assassin. Eagle, our sniper. Phoenix, our balls. And me... The Reaper."
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
Situation Normal, All Fucked Up - Phoenix
"Week 3, Day 2. How did it come to this? Not a day goes by when I don't ask myself that question. I try to think back to before this ordeal began and I try to feel the innocence I felt before, but to no avail. It's funny... Reaper use to tell us, my brother Eagle and I, about what was going to happen. The horrors that would descend upon the world. We would just laugh because we thought he was kidding... Oh how wrong we were. But since the outbreak he never once has said, 'I told you so.' That's not the kind of man he is.
I can still remember the day the world ended. We were sitting in our house watching some movie together calling it 'family time' when we heard the screams. Sure you hear those screams in the movies but when you hear them in real life you can't help but be gripped by a mixture of adrenaline and fear. Then the front door was knocked in and they came. The first time I saw one I was shocked. I never thought a human being could look so... evil, deformed. My sister screamed and the creature stood a minute almost like it was deciding which one of us to devour first. Just before it could leap on to my brother it was pierced through the skull from behind by a Katana. Reaper had saved our lives that day and it was for that reason we accepted our brothers leadership as head of the squad.
I made a vow never to be caught off guard again. I hate the bastards. The mindless onslaught of inhuman beasts who want nothing more then to devour humanity in a rainstorm of blood. I've been keeping a tally on my shotgun. I do it so whoever finds my dead body will know, 'Here lies a man who went balls out and kicked ass!'
The only thing that matters to me now is keeping my family, and the rest of the guys alive, whatever the cost. Enrique, Sphinx, Viper... All of them as well as Reaper and of course...Eagle.
My brother Eagle has become sort of cold and emotionless, like a robot, almost since his fiance was turned. Killing her was the hardest thing he ever had to do and it killed him a little. So much is wrong! So much is just fucked up! Clearing these buildings... Seeing what has become of our world. I remember on Day 5 after I found a black Desert Eagle Magnum with a Red Phoenix etched in the handle, we walked past the sign that used to say 'Welcome to Sarnia' instead it had spray painted over with the words, 'Fuck the Zombies' all I could think at that moment was, 'I intend to, I intend to...' I am the Phoenix and with the support of my brothers, I will rise above the flame."
Excerpt from the battle log of Jeremy M. Clever. Code Named: Phoenix.
I can still remember the day the world ended. We were sitting in our house watching some movie together calling it 'family time' when we heard the screams. Sure you hear those screams in the movies but when you hear them in real life you can't help but be gripped by a mixture of adrenaline and fear. Then the front door was knocked in and they came. The first time I saw one I was shocked. I never thought a human being could look so... evil, deformed. My sister screamed and the creature stood a minute almost like it was deciding which one of us to devour first. Just before it could leap on to my brother it was pierced through the skull from behind by a Katana. Reaper had saved our lives that day and it was for that reason we accepted our brothers leadership as head of the squad.
I made a vow never to be caught off guard again. I hate the bastards. The mindless onslaught of inhuman beasts who want nothing more then to devour humanity in a rainstorm of blood. I've been keeping a tally on my shotgun. I do it so whoever finds my dead body will know, 'Here lies a man who went balls out and kicked ass!'
The only thing that matters to me now is keeping my family, and the rest of the guys alive, whatever the cost. Enrique, Sphinx, Viper... All of them as well as Reaper and of course...Eagle.
My brother Eagle has become sort of cold and emotionless, like a robot, almost since his fiance was turned. Killing her was the hardest thing he ever had to do and it killed him a little. So much is wrong! So much is just fucked up! Clearing these buildings... Seeing what has become of our world. I remember on Day 5 after I found a black Desert Eagle Magnum with a Red Phoenix etched in the handle, we walked past the sign that used to say 'Welcome to Sarnia' instead it had spray painted over with the words, 'Fuck the Zombies' all I could think at that moment was, 'I intend to, I intend to...' I am the Phoenix and with the support of my brothers, I will rise above the flame."
Excerpt from the battle log of Jeremy M. Clever. Code Named: Phoenix.
Cut Off The Head
"Week 3, day 3. We no longer have a working structure of command above my own position. As my platoon and I were making our way towards the 7th day of clearing buildings we got an emergency dispatch from HQ. I'm writing it down in the log verbatim in case it's needed in the future.
'HQ to field. HQ to field. Have suffered massive damage. Hostiles from every corner. Defenses failed. Cannot hold for much longer. Do not attempt to return to ba...'
And the transmission cut out at the ending... I'm assuming that's when the power gave out completely. But we wont know for sure. My team put out a signal to all possible remaining teams out in the area to gather in one spot. Unfortunately no answers came back. Which, in this case, isn't necessarily a bad thing. Our radios are made in such a way to pick up radio transmissions whether they have enough power to respond or not. So it's possible no one was able to respond with such low levels of power. However we left the coordinates for our point of destination and an approximate time for our ETA.
We're on our way now. But the only squads I know of that are possibly out in the city and still alive are led by Johnson and Angel. Both of them are more then capable team leaders, and they kept their teams well trained... But hopefully they'll have more of a team then we do."
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
'HQ to field. HQ to field. Have suffered massive damage. Hostiles from every corner. Defenses failed. Cannot hold for much longer. Do not attempt to return to ba...'
And the transmission cut out at the ending... I'm assuming that's when the power gave out completely. But we wont know for sure. My team put out a signal to all possible remaining teams out in the area to gather in one spot. Unfortunately no answers came back. Which, in this case, isn't necessarily a bad thing. Our radios are made in such a way to pick up radio transmissions whether they have enough power to respond or not. So it's possible no one was able to respond with such low levels of power. However we left the coordinates for our point of destination and an approximate time for our ETA.
We're on our way now. But the only squads I know of that are possibly out in the city and still alive are led by Johnson and Angel. Both of them are more then capable team leaders, and they kept their teams well trained... But hopefully they'll have more of a team then we do."
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
Murphy's Law: Anything That Can Happen, Will Happen
"Week 3, Day 4. We received a dispatch from Johnson and Angel today at 0400 hours. Seems they've already banded together and found a place to last out this doomsday. Heh... Looks like we're the only ones being proactive right now. We've received their coordinates and I've told the platoon we're going to give them all the help we can give. The whole team knew it was the right thing to do and they were ready to do it.
We made our way to their location with Phoenix and myself on point, Eagle, Sphinx and Viper covering our backs and everyone else in the middle. About 100 yards off we started hearing the gunfire. I had guessed they'd be in trouble with the fact that they're holding up in a make shift bunker... I'd never guessed it was this much trouble.
When we finally came in view of what was going on, we saw just how much trouble it was. The three figures we could see were leaning out the windows of the second floor and picking very careful head shots on the sea of Zombies beneath them. With a quick estimate of the hoard assailing the team would be easily in the hundreds. They must have been low on ammunition because the shots weren't coming as often as they should have been.
A quick decision had me giving very direct orders. We were here to help. So help we would.
After the plans were laid out, the team broke with a resounding 'Hoorah!' I don't think I'll ever get used to going into battle. Everything just seems to slow down. Maybe that's just the adrenaline pumping in my veins, but it does seem to help in this scenario. In one moment every single pair of eyes shifted to us, living and undead. And then our battle started.
Watcher unslung his rocket launcher fired two missiles directly at the front line of Zombies. As undead flesh and shrapnel flew upwards Shakespeare helped him reload the launcher. Eagle started lining up shots as soon as the dust settled and head shots could be made. Phoenix, Sphinx, Enrique, Viper and I were getting closer to the madness to be more effective. Rex and Mako were firing from the mounted guns on the Humvees. A couple more explosions hit the Zombies from Watcher and then he came running up to help us with his axe. There wasn't much room left between us and the front line of undead. Shakespeare held back to cover the gunners from behind.
Once we hit the front line things started going a whole lot faster in my mind. Somehow Phoenix and I got separated from the others and we were on our own. With the close range of our attackers I'd slung my battle rifle on my back and had a katana in one hand and a magnum in the other. Phoenix had his shotgun and Desert Eagle. Back to back we were ready to hit these Zombies with everything we had and give them no quarter.
Circling back to back, we started picking off head shots with our pistols. Occasionally we'd get lucky and one bullet would make it's way through 2 brains. But unlike Hollywood, Phoenix and I ran out of bullets pretty quickly. With adrenaline pumping through your veins you can do some amazing things. Phoenix released his empty magazine, tossed his Desert Eagle in the air, got a second magazine and slid it in to the gun as it fell down, and just kept shooting. I had my clips ready for reloading on my belt so I just had to release the empty and slide in the new. After the new batch of bullets were loosed into the enemy Phoenix switched to his battle axe and I freed up my hand for a better grip on my sword.
Working in tandem we hacked and slashed our way towards the building. Phoenix slid the muzzle of his shotgun into the mouth of a Zombie and splattered its brains against its fellows, and turned to lop the head off of another with his axe. Reloading his shotgun by tossing it up, catching it by the forestock, cocking the mechanism, smashing a Zombies skull in with the stock, and flipping the gun around to catch it by the handle and shoot another Zombie, Phoenix was a force of humanity not to be trifled with.
I kept my katana flashing against the tide of undead, cutting off heads or stabbing the blade through an eye socket to skewer the brain. Spinning to cut the head of another assailant off, I reached around my back with my free hand to grasp the handle of my battle rifle and fired off a couple quick bursts into the enemy. Yelling for Phoenix to duck down, I cut open the chest of a Zombie, stuck a frag grenade in it's ribcage, and kicked it back into the crowd of undead. After the schrapnel threw Zombie flesh and decayed matter in all directions, Phoenix and I straightened ourselves and rushed towards the doors of the make shift bunker.
After we burst through the doors of the first floor, we noticed that the stairway leading up had been blocked off.
'Of course it would be,' grunted Phoenix with an unpleased tone. As we turned around to get out of the building we realized a moment too soon that we'd trapped ourselves in the building. Zombies were already swarming the door trying to get closer to our flesh. But not a moment later Eagle jumped through one of the broken windows with a war hammer in his hands and took a circling swipe at the Zombies coming towards us. Sending a few undead crumbling to the floor he looked back at us with a wink and said 'Evening gents,' like this was nothing special at all. Together we beat back the tide of undead and got outside of the death trap Phoenix and I had wandered into.
'We're going to need an evac from the bunker, and we're going to need it soon,' I ordered into the radio on my shoulder as more Zombies swarmed our position.
'On our way Reaper,' came the quick reply from Rex. Through the windows we could see Mako hop in the drivers seat of the Humvee Rex was gunning from. Mako drove straight for the building as Rex tried to clear a path with the mounted turret. And as the vehicle got closer, Mako made it drift over to the one side and either ran over or bashed the undead to the side with the back of the Humvee. 'Excellent tactically driving boys,' I thought.
As Phoenix, Eagle and I hopped in to the Humvee we pulled away just as explosions errupted in the midst of the Zombies. I spotted Watcher back with his rocket launcher raining death into the enemy. Sphinx was a shining star in the day's light as he was fighting his way through a mass of Zombies. I signaled Mako to head for him, drop us off and head back to the others.
As my brothers and I hopped off the vehicle I sheathed my sword and unhitched my battle rifle. Phoenix got his shotgun out and Eagle had dual Glocks in his hands. We nodded to each other and rushed into the fray once again. Shots rang out and enemies dropped before us. We were an unstoppable force, and where we went Zombies fell. Once we reached Sphinx there were barely any of the undead left. He had impaled a Zombie with this bardiche. His shield was slung on top of the handle to form a quick battle standard as a sign of defiance and held his position wielding his two broad swords and forming a circle of death around him. The three of us helped Sphinx take out the rest of the undead and within seconds we had completely cleared the area. We had come to save the defending troops, and we'd done it.
I looked around to make sure everyone was still ok. Watcher, Enrique, Rex, Mako, Shakespeare and Viper were back with the Humvees. Sphinx was collecting his bardiche and shield. And Phoenix, Eagle and I were standing together. Our own island in the sea of truly dead Zombies. Pumping our fists in the air, together we sounded a victorious 'Hoorah!' to the heavens, and we were joined in celebration by a chorus of cheers from the Humvees and a solid salute from Sphinx.
As my brothers and I turned around to go towards the make shift bunker, we saw the survivors running towards us. When they got to us they introduced themselves repsectfully. Johnson, Angel, and Medic. They reported that after the communication from HQ, they decided to go into the closest building and bunker down. But after sealing the entrance way, they discovered they weren't the only ones there. In the darkness of night their teams had been caught off guard and all were killed except these three survivors...
All three of them saluted briskly and as one said 'Rescued team, Sir. Reporting for duty!'
Well... veni, vidi, vici I guess. A good days work. We came, we saw, we conquered.'
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
We made our way to their location with Phoenix and myself on point, Eagle, Sphinx and Viper covering our backs and everyone else in the middle. About 100 yards off we started hearing the gunfire. I had guessed they'd be in trouble with the fact that they're holding up in a make shift bunker... I'd never guessed it was this much trouble.
When we finally came in view of what was going on, we saw just how much trouble it was. The three figures we could see were leaning out the windows of the second floor and picking very careful head shots on the sea of Zombies beneath them. With a quick estimate of the hoard assailing the team would be easily in the hundreds. They must have been low on ammunition because the shots weren't coming as often as they should have been.
A quick decision had me giving very direct orders. We were here to help. So help we would.
After the plans were laid out, the team broke with a resounding 'Hoorah!' I don't think I'll ever get used to going into battle. Everything just seems to slow down. Maybe that's just the adrenaline pumping in my veins, but it does seem to help in this scenario. In one moment every single pair of eyes shifted to us, living and undead. And then our battle started.
Watcher unslung his rocket launcher fired two missiles directly at the front line of Zombies. As undead flesh and shrapnel flew upwards Shakespeare helped him reload the launcher. Eagle started lining up shots as soon as the dust settled and head shots could be made. Phoenix, Sphinx, Enrique, Viper and I were getting closer to the madness to be more effective. Rex and Mako were firing from the mounted guns on the Humvees. A couple more explosions hit the Zombies from Watcher and then he came running up to help us with his axe. There wasn't much room left between us and the front line of undead. Shakespeare held back to cover the gunners from behind.
Once we hit the front line things started going a whole lot faster in my mind. Somehow Phoenix and I got separated from the others and we were on our own. With the close range of our attackers I'd slung my battle rifle on my back and had a katana in one hand and a magnum in the other. Phoenix had his shotgun and Desert Eagle. Back to back we were ready to hit these Zombies with everything we had and give them no quarter.
Circling back to back, we started picking off head shots with our pistols. Occasionally we'd get lucky and one bullet would make it's way through 2 brains. But unlike Hollywood, Phoenix and I ran out of bullets pretty quickly. With adrenaline pumping through your veins you can do some amazing things. Phoenix released his empty magazine, tossed his Desert Eagle in the air, got a second magazine and slid it in to the gun as it fell down, and just kept shooting. I had my clips ready for reloading on my belt so I just had to release the empty and slide in the new. After the new batch of bullets were loosed into the enemy Phoenix switched to his battle axe and I freed up my hand for a better grip on my sword.
Working in tandem we hacked and slashed our way towards the building. Phoenix slid the muzzle of his shotgun into the mouth of a Zombie and splattered its brains against its fellows, and turned to lop the head off of another with his axe. Reloading his shotgun by tossing it up, catching it by the forestock, cocking the mechanism, smashing a Zombies skull in with the stock, and flipping the gun around to catch it by the handle and shoot another Zombie, Phoenix was a force of humanity not to be trifled with.
I kept my katana flashing against the tide of undead, cutting off heads or stabbing the blade through an eye socket to skewer the brain. Spinning to cut the head of another assailant off, I reached around my back with my free hand to grasp the handle of my battle rifle and fired off a couple quick bursts into the enemy. Yelling for Phoenix to duck down, I cut open the chest of a Zombie, stuck a frag grenade in it's ribcage, and kicked it back into the crowd of undead. After the schrapnel threw Zombie flesh and decayed matter in all directions, Phoenix and I straightened ourselves and rushed towards the doors of the make shift bunker.
After we burst through the doors of the first floor, we noticed that the stairway leading up had been blocked off.
'Of course it would be,' grunted Phoenix with an unpleased tone. As we turned around to get out of the building we realized a moment too soon that we'd trapped ourselves in the building. Zombies were already swarming the door trying to get closer to our flesh. But not a moment later Eagle jumped through one of the broken windows with a war hammer in his hands and took a circling swipe at the Zombies coming towards us. Sending a few undead crumbling to the floor he looked back at us with a wink and said 'Evening gents,' like this was nothing special at all. Together we beat back the tide of undead and got outside of the death trap Phoenix and I had wandered into.
'We're going to need an evac from the bunker, and we're going to need it soon,' I ordered into the radio on my shoulder as more Zombies swarmed our position.
'On our way Reaper,' came the quick reply from Rex. Through the windows we could see Mako hop in the drivers seat of the Humvee Rex was gunning from. Mako drove straight for the building as Rex tried to clear a path with the mounted turret. And as the vehicle got closer, Mako made it drift over to the one side and either ran over or bashed the undead to the side with the back of the Humvee. 'Excellent tactically driving boys,' I thought.
As Phoenix, Eagle and I hopped in to the Humvee we pulled away just as explosions errupted in the midst of the Zombies. I spotted Watcher back with his rocket launcher raining death into the enemy. Sphinx was a shining star in the day's light as he was fighting his way through a mass of Zombies. I signaled Mako to head for him, drop us off and head back to the others.
As my brothers and I hopped off the vehicle I sheathed my sword and unhitched my battle rifle. Phoenix got his shotgun out and Eagle had dual Glocks in his hands. We nodded to each other and rushed into the fray once again. Shots rang out and enemies dropped before us. We were an unstoppable force, and where we went Zombies fell. Once we reached Sphinx there were barely any of the undead left. He had impaled a Zombie with this bardiche. His shield was slung on top of the handle to form a quick battle standard as a sign of defiance and held his position wielding his two broad swords and forming a circle of death around him. The three of us helped Sphinx take out the rest of the undead and within seconds we had completely cleared the area. We had come to save the defending troops, and we'd done it.
I looked around to make sure everyone was still ok. Watcher, Enrique, Rex, Mako, Shakespeare and Viper were back with the Humvees. Sphinx was collecting his bardiche and shield. And Phoenix, Eagle and I were standing together. Our own island in the sea of truly dead Zombies. Pumping our fists in the air, together we sounded a victorious 'Hoorah!' to the heavens, and we were joined in celebration by a chorus of cheers from the Humvees and a solid salute from Sphinx.
As my brothers and I turned around to go towards the make shift bunker, we saw the survivors running towards us. When they got to us they introduced themselves repsectfully. Johnson, Angel, and Medic. They reported that after the communication from HQ, they decided to go into the closest building and bunker down. But after sealing the entrance way, they discovered they weren't the only ones there. In the darkness of night their teams had been caught off guard and all were killed except these three survivors...
All three of them saluted briskly and as one said 'Rescued team, Sir. Reporting for duty!'
Well... veni, vidi, vici I guess. A good days work. We came, we saw, we conquered.'
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
Change Is Supposed To Be A Good Thing... Right?
"Week 3, day 5. We've sent out more radio messages in case there are any other teams in the area. Although Johnson said that he and Angel had done a preliminary sweep of the area and found some Zombies in our army's uniform walking around, but didn't find any teams alive. So at this point in time we're assuming the worst. We may find some survivors, but as of now, our mindset is that we are the last bastion of hope for this area.
Since Johnson and Angel are acting as if I'm the highest in command right now, I've decided to look at some things as a necessity. Since we'd decided to put in for the night in a local forest, I pulled Eagle, Phoenix, Viper and Watcher aside so we could have a little chat in private. We left the clearing we'd chosen and walked away a bit so we couldn't be heard. In case anything should happen to myself during an attack I'm setting the steps for our own chain of command. In this case, I'm acting as head of the troop, followed by Eagle and Phoenix working in tandem. And if they should fall Viper and Watcher will be next in line. Although personally I hope this chain of command never needs to be put into use...
As the five of us walked back to the rest of the group we heard a short crackle over the radios. It was so unexpected that all of us grabbed our weapons and circled up, shoulder to shoulder. Silently peering down the barrels of our guns, searching the area, the radios kept crackling as if someone was trying to open up a line of communication.
Silently signaling the others, we started making our way to the rest of the team at our camp site for the night. We weren't exactly far from the site... Just far enough not to be heard. But as we got closer we could start to see figures standing in the clearing of our camp. Signaling for a stop, the five of us stood our ground and Watcher and Viper covered us from behind. Ever since Enrique started singing Disney songs to cheer us up, we'd come up with a code of sorts to identify ourselves or communicate for different situations. And like I said before, making sound doesn't matter. Eventually Zombies will hear you either way. So softly enough to just carry our voices into the clearing, Eagle Phoenix and I started to sing:
'For a long time we've been marching off to battle,
In our thund'ring herd we feel a lot like cattle.'
And softly the welcoming reply came from Enrique, Mako, and Shakespeare:
'Be our guest,
Be our guest.
Put our service to the test.'
With that the five of us slipped through into the clearing and were greeted by the others. Quick looks told us that everyone had heard the same crackles and that it wasn't just our imaginations. We hadn't heard anything on the radios from an outside sources since HQ fell to the hoards of undead.
While everyone started sitting down to their dinner rations, or trying to get comfy for the night, I told the team what the five of us had been talking about. There were a few odd looks in my direction for bringing it up, and I gave them all a 'just-in-case' shrug in reply. But the odd thing was that Johnson and Angel just nodded and were fine with it... It makes me worry about them. They were thought of as top team leaders back before the undead plague began. And for them to just nod when being given another person to take orders from... It makes me wonder what happened to them psychologically when their teams were destroyed in one awful night.
As Enrique, Shakespeare and Medic took the first watch, the rest of us bundled up and got ready for sleep. And just as I was about to drift off I heard the crackle that the radios had made earlier. I slowly sat up and looked around thinking it may have just been my imagination. But when I saw that we were all trying to hear where the crackle came from, I got a little more worried.
Suddenly the crackle was a bit more agitating then it should have been. The sound came again over the radios but it didn't crackle out like it normally did. Through the radio we heard footsteps crunching on twigs and shuffling through fallen leaves. The worrisome part started when we could actually hear the twigs breaking without the radios. Whatever was making this sound... It was coming straight for us.
Snapping my fingers to get the attention of the troops, I quickly flashed some hand signals and we grabbed our weapons and got into a defensive ring in the clearing. As we formed up and prepared for whatever this was, I engaged the radio and spoke into it clearly. 'Hold your position. Do not proceed in your current direction. We are armed and will shoot. State your name and purpose.'
Slowly the snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves stopped and everything was quite.
'Name... My name?... Private Jake Peters Sir...' Came the slow reply over the radios. Although something about it just didn't sound right. The voice sounded so dry and breathless... Almost as if the Private's throat hadn't felt any moisture in quite some time and he hadn't spoken in just as long.
'Just... So alone... Thought I was all alone...,' Peters said groaningly.
'It's ok Private. We're survivors. Slowly walk on the path you were taking and don't make any sudden moves.' I replied to his audible thoughts. After a moment the crunching of leaves and twigs started up again. Slowly a figure broke through the trees and stumbled into our camp site and we pointed our gun lights towards it. We all had to stop ourselves from shooting it down. The thing that had crept into our clearing had our army's uniform on, had a battle rifle slung over his shoulder, two side arms on his belt, a gloved hand still on the radio on his shoulder and hair matted over his head. What bothered us was that the skin we could see on the Private had a blue hue to it. His eyes seemed blood shot and misty, and it just seemed like they could and couldn't quite see us at the same time. Worst of all his jaw hung open in a way that reminded us of the undead we'd been destroying for so long.
'Please don't shoot,' moaned the Private again sounding like he was out of breath. 'I know... I look bad... But I've... looked worse...'
'What's wrong with you Peters?' asked Phoenix. 'You look... dead.'
Not quite as subtle as I would have liked... But he was just saying what we all thought. Peters stumbled towards us a little bit but stopped when we raised our barrels to aim at his forehead. Looking at our guns for a moment it seemed as if he was deciding how to get around them and closer to us. I quickly signaled Viper and she threw two of her throwing knives into the Private's thighs.
Everyone just looked at the knives sticking out of Peters' legs except the man himself. Almost as if he didn't even feel the blades protruding from his legs. At this point I'd seen enough to be sure. But as an extra test just to prove it, I fired a three bullet burst into his chest with my battle rifle. The Private stumbled back with the force of the impact, but managed to stay standing up. A slow moan croaked out from his throat and his glazed eyes looked at us. And in that moment we knew he was dead... or... undead as it seemed. Eagle put a bullet through each of his eyes and Peters quickly fell down and stayed down.
Looking around to the group, they were a bit shaken. Shakespeare looked down at the body and said, 'It was dead... It was dead and it was talking. How? How is that possible? Zombies can't talk!' Enrique went and sat him down against a tree to calm him. As the others looked at each other or had thoughts running through their minds, I bent down and collected the Privates gear. Even if it was a very odd circumstance, we're not in any position to waste ammunition or other supplies. As I finished gathering what could be salvaged, Phoenix looked around and scoffed. 'This must have just been a freak accident... I mean... We weren't imagining this. The body's right there. It was talking, but it was dead...'
I handed Viper back her knives after cleaning them as best I could. I knew she'd clean them herself later when she got the chance, but it was a nice sentiment. 'It was dead alright,' I said. 'The virus might be adapting. We just have to be more careful. Remember... Speech requires a higher brain function. When the body dies and no oxygen gets to the brain, the brain slowly dies as well. Maybe the virus got this one changed differently somehow... We might not be able to find out how it happened, but we no longer trust anyone that looks like that. If it looks dead, talking or not, shoot it.'
Everyone nodded and agreed. Whatever this was... I hope it was a fluke..."
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
Since Johnson and Angel are acting as if I'm the highest in command right now, I've decided to look at some things as a necessity. Since we'd decided to put in for the night in a local forest, I pulled Eagle, Phoenix, Viper and Watcher aside so we could have a little chat in private. We left the clearing we'd chosen and walked away a bit so we couldn't be heard. In case anything should happen to myself during an attack I'm setting the steps for our own chain of command. In this case, I'm acting as head of the troop, followed by Eagle and Phoenix working in tandem. And if they should fall Viper and Watcher will be next in line. Although personally I hope this chain of command never needs to be put into use...
As the five of us walked back to the rest of the group we heard a short crackle over the radios. It was so unexpected that all of us grabbed our weapons and circled up, shoulder to shoulder. Silently peering down the barrels of our guns, searching the area, the radios kept crackling as if someone was trying to open up a line of communication.
Silently signaling the others, we started making our way to the rest of the team at our camp site for the night. We weren't exactly far from the site... Just far enough not to be heard. But as we got closer we could start to see figures standing in the clearing of our camp. Signaling for a stop, the five of us stood our ground and Watcher and Viper covered us from behind. Ever since Enrique started singing Disney songs to cheer us up, we'd come up with a code of sorts to identify ourselves or communicate for different situations. And like I said before, making sound doesn't matter. Eventually Zombies will hear you either way. So softly enough to just carry our voices into the clearing, Eagle Phoenix and I started to sing:
'For a long time we've been marching off to battle,
In our thund'ring herd we feel a lot like cattle.'
And softly the welcoming reply came from Enrique, Mako, and Shakespeare:
'Be our guest,
Be our guest.
Put our service to the test.'
With that the five of us slipped through into the clearing and were greeted by the others. Quick looks told us that everyone had heard the same crackles and that it wasn't just our imaginations. We hadn't heard anything on the radios from an outside sources since HQ fell to the hoards of undead.
While everyone started sitting down to their dinner rations, or trying to get comfy for the night, I told the team what the five of us had been talking about. There were a few odd looks in my direction for bringing it up, and I gave them all a 'just-in-case' shrug in reply. But the odd thing was that Johnson and Angel just nodded and were fine with it... It makes me worry about them. They were thought of as top team leaders back before the undead plague began. And for them to just nod when being given another person to take orders from... It makes me wonder what happened to them psychologically when their teams were destroyed in one awful night.
As Enrique, Shakespeare and Medic took the first watch, the rest of us bundled up and got ready for sleep. And just as I was about to drift off I heard the crackle that the radios had made earlier. I slowly sat up and looked around thinking it may have just been my imagination. But when I saw that we were all trying to hear where the crackle came from, I got a little more worried.
Suddenly the crackle was a bit more agitating then it should have been. The sound came again over the radios but it didn't crackle out like it normally did. Through the radio we heard footsteps crunching on twigs and shuffling through fallen leaves. The worrisome part started when we could actually hear the twigs breaking without the radios. Whatever was making this sound... It was coming straight for us.
Snapping my fingers to get the attention of the troops, I quickly flashed some hand signals and we grabbed our weapons and got into a defensive ring in the clearing. As we formed up and prepared for whatever this was, I engaged the radio and spoke into it clearly. 'Hold your position. Do not proceed in your current direction. We are armed and will shoot. State your name and purpose.'
Slowly the snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves stopped and everything was quite.
'Name... My name?... Private Jake Peters Sir...' Came the slow reply over the radios. Although something about it just didn't sound right. The voice sounded so dry and breathless... Almost as if the Private's throat hadn't felt any moisture in quite some time and he hadn't spoken in just as long.
'Just... So alone... Thought I was all alone...,' Peters said groaningly.
'It's ok Private. We're survivors. Slowly walk on the path you were taking and don't make any sudden moves.' I replied to his audible thoughts. After a moment the crunching of leaves and twigs started up again. Slowly a figure broke through the trees and stumbled into our camp site and we pointed our gun lights towards it. We all had to stop ourselves from shooting it down. The thing that had crept into our clearing had our army's uniform on, had a battle rifle slung over his shoulder, two side arms on his belt, a gloved hand still on the radio on his shoulder and hair matted over his head. What bothered us was that the skin we could see on the Private had a blue hue to it. His eyes seemed blood shot and misty, and it just seemed like they could and couldn't quite see us at the same time. Worst of all his jaw hung open in a way that reminded us of the undead we'd been destroying for so long.
'Please don't shoot,' moaned the Private again sounding like he was out of breath. 'I know... I look bad... But I've... looked worse...'
'What's wrong with you Peters?' asked Phoenix. 'You look... dead.'
Not quite as subtle as I would have liked... But he was just saying what we all thought. Peters stumbled towards us a little bit but stopped when we raised our barrels to aim at his forehead. Looking at our guns for a moment it seemed as if he was deciding how to get around them and closer to us. I quickly signaled Viper and she threw two of her throwing knives into the Private's thighs.
Everyone just looked at the knives sticking out of Peters' legs except the man himself. Almost as if he didn't even feel the blades protruding from his legs. At this point I'd seen enough to be sure. But as an extra test just to prove it, I fired a three bullet burst into his chest with my battle rifle. The Private stumbled back with the force of the impact, but managed to stay standing up. A slow moan croaked out from his throat and his glazed eyes looked at us. And in that moment we knew he was dead... or... undead as it seemed. Eagle put a bullet through each of his eyes and Peters quickly fell down and stayed down.
Looking around to the group, they were a bit shaken. Shakespeare looked down at the body and said, 'It was dead... It was dead and it was talking. How? How is that possible? Zombies can't talk!' Enrique went and sat him down against a tree to calm him. As the others looked at each other or had thoughts running through their minds, I bent down and collected the Privates gear. Even if it was a very odd circumstance, we're not in any position to waste ammunition or other supplies. As I finished gathering what could be salvaged, Phoenix looked around and scoffed. 'This must have just been a freak accident... I mean... We weren't imagining this. The body's right there. It was talking, but it was dead...'
I handed Viper back her knives after cleaning them as best I could. I knew she'd clean them herself later when she got the chance, but it was a nice sentiment. 'It was dead alright,' I said. 'The virus might be adapting. We just have to be more careful. Remember... Speech requires a higher brain function. When the body dies and no oxygen gets to the brain, the brain slowly dies as well. Maybe the virus got this one changed differently somehow... We might not be able to find out how it happened, but we no longer trust anyone that looks like that. If it looks dead, talking or not, shoot it.'
Everyone nodded and agreed. Whatever this was... I hope it was a fluke..."
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
An Off Day
"Week 3, day 6. I was thinking about the past month or so with everything that's happened to my team and I. With me writing so often lately, I'm starting to realize things are getting worse. I laughed at that statement because of course things are getting worse. We're in a world where Zombies dictate your life span, and every moment may be your last. But in relation to when the plague first spread across this world... things are getting worse.
First it was just a plague that needed to be vaccinated. Then it was the dead reanimating and feasting on the living. But even then we had a working, if somewhat lessened, body of government. Then the government crashed and all that was left were military plans and objectives. Then the military base was overtaken and all that was left was the team and I.
That was probably the most shocking part of all of this. In the world we lived in, the government either hid or controlled everything. And then when that went south, the military stepped up and controlled things as best they could. Now it's just us. The team has been so brave during all of this. They've seen their friends and families claimed by the plague. They've shot down or seen the corpses of people they knew. I am proud of them like I never have been of anything else. Eagle, Phoenix, Viper, and Watcher I already thought of as family when this started. But Enrique, Sphinx, Rex, Mako, and Shakespeare... They all seem like family now. I can't imagine going through this without them.
They bring unique and effective skills to the team. I honestly don't know what my role in all of this has been. I mean... yes, I'm good with computers. But Watcher has every single program needed for getting into or through anything electronic. I'm good with a gun... But Phoenix and Eagle are the best shots on the team. Even though my father was a mechanic and I spent time helping him out, Rex and Mako far exceed my limited knowledge in that field. Viper is our huntress hands down. I don't know how she does it, but she can track anything we need with ease. Whether it's Zombies to kill, or food for the day, she'll point the way. Enrique is our comedic relief. Shakespeare is an experienced doctor, so there's no competition there. But I haven't brought our team down in any way. So that's good enough for now. I don't know what made me think of this... I guess everyone just wants to know they're place in the world and the reasoning for it.
Anyways... Today's just been an off day. Since our run in with the talking Zombie, Shakespeare and Medic have been examining it as best as they can with the limited equipment to try and figure out what made it different. The only logical thing they can think of is that somehow the brain was still being delivered oxygen during death. That thesis bothers me though. It shows premeditation. Almost like this was an experiment. I hope it's not someone like the doctor from the animal hospital again. I don't think we would fare too well with another beast like that.
When everyone was getting ready to go to sleep, Viper came over and sat beside me. She had elected to have the first watch of the night, and I'd agreed to stay up with her. But as we sat in the middle of our camp, leaning against each other's backs, her hand slowly trailed over, and she twined her fingers with mine. Maybe she was just looking for comfort, or trying to comfort me. Maybe she was just looking for living human contact. Maybe she was just quitely saying hi to an old friend... But it gave me an idea.
I'd been with the team from the beginning. If it hadn't been for me Watcher and Viper would still be leading their own platoons, Eagle and Phoenix and I would probably be in hiding somewhere with our families, and the rest of the team would be with another leader or dead by now. But I've brought us together, I've helped us feel close and comfortable with each other, I've given us direction when everything else fell apart, and I've led us out of some pretty rough messes. I'm not the best shot, the best hacker, the best tracker, mechanic, engineer, or medic. But I'm the survivor. And I entend to survive with my family beside me."
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
First it was just a plague that needed to be vaccinated. Then it was the dead reanimating and feasting on the living. But even then we had a working, if somewhat lessened, body of government. Then the government crashed and all that was left were military plans and objectives. Then the military base was overtaken and all that was left was the team and I.
That was probably the most shocking part of all of this. In the world we lived in, the government either hid or controlled everything. And then when that went south, the military stepped up and controlled things as best they could. Now it's just us. The team has been so brave during all of this. They've seen their friends and families claimed by the plague. They've shot down or seen the corpses of people they knew. I am proud of them like I never have been of anything else. Eagle, Phoenix, Viper, and Watcher I already thought of as family when this started. But Enrique, Sphinx, Rex, Mako, and Shakespeare... They all seem like family now. I can't imagine going through this without them.
They bring unique and effective skills to the team. I honestly don't know what my role in all of this has been. I mean... yes, I'm good with computers. But Watcher has every single program needed for getting into or through anything electronic. I'm good with a gun... But Phoenix and Eagle are the best shots on the team. Even though my father was a mechanic and I spent time helping him out, Rex and Mako far exceed my limited knowledge in that field. Viper is our huntress hands down. I don't know how she does it, but she can track anything we need with ease. Whether it's Zombies to kill, or food for the day, she'll point the way. Enrique is our comedic relief. Shakespeare is an experienced doctor, so there's no competition there. But I haven't brought our team down in any way. So that's good enough for now. I don't know what made me think of this... I guess everyone just wants to know they're place in the world and the reasoning for it.
Anyways... Today's just been an off day. Since our run in with the talking Zombie, Shakespeare and Medic have been examining it as best as they can with the limited equipment to try and figure out what made it different. The only logical thing they can think of is that somehow the brain was still being delivered oxygen during death. That thesis bothers me though. It shows premeditation. Almost like this was an experiment. I hope it's not someone like the doctor from the animal hospital again. I don't think we would fare too well with another beast like that.
When everyone was getting ready to go to sleep, Viper came over and sat beside me. She had elected to have the first watch of the night, and I'd agreed to stay up with her. But as we sat in the middle of our camp, leaning against each other's backs, her hand slowly trailed over, and she twined her fingers with mine. Maybe she was just looking for comfort, or trying to comfort me. Maybe she was just looking for living human contact. Maybe she was just quitely saying hi to an old friend... But it gave me an idea.
I'd been with the team from the beginning. If it hadn't been for me Watcher and Viper would still be leading their own platoons, Eagle and Phoenix and I would probably be in hiding somewhere with our families, and the rest of the team would be with another leader or dead by now. But I've brought us together, I've helped us feel close and comfortable with each other, I've given us direction when everything else fell apart, and I've led us out of some pretty rough messes. I'm not the best shot, the best hacker, the best tracker, mechanic, engineer, or medic. But I'm the survivor. And I entend to survive with my family beside me."
Excerpt from the battle log of Steven A. Carpenter. Code Named: Reaper.
The Final Release - Watcher
“Week 13, Day 6. Winter in the Arizona Desert is not much of a show, unless you count Zombies as entertainment. We've been having to deal with the undead problem for quite some time now. We've been able to suppress the Zombies for now. But I have a bad feeling that this epidemic of death is going to break through our line. I hate these things that turn our fathers and sons against us; they have no respect for our species.
Last week I was walking through our encampment towards the mess hall and I found a grunt crying outside the door, he wanted someone to see him, just wanted comfort. After talking to him for a bit I realized that he was from this area and saw his wife while he was on patrol, but it wasn’t his wife, not anymore. I can sympathize with that, I saw similar things in my time, my family to be exact. When you’re faced with a situation like that, you just need to think of it as a release. You release them; the parasites are the real killers.
Speaking of which, we released around two hundred and fifty yesterday down by Mesa, where there is flesh, you find Zombies. Usually you don’t see them congregate like that, but afterwards we found that there was a large community of twelve hundred or so survivors hidden under the city, in the sewers. We pulled them out of there and treated the wounded and fed them all, they called us Saviours.
Those people are with us now, they outnumber the troops, but they’ve lost the will to keep running, all they do is fear. It’s a sad commentary on what’s happening in this world right now, their hearts turn to stone but their bodies move on, not unlike our enemy. This place is empty, and I’m stuck in the middle of it, all these men, women and children, not one of them carries my spirit. I find myself thinking back to the old days, the Green Berets alongside my friends. We had no fear, only Spirit, the Spirit of men with an objective.
Tomorrow we’ll be heading back to Mesa to look for more survivors, medical supplies, etc... I hope all goes well.
‘I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.’
-Litany against Fear, Frank Herbert.”
Excerpt from the battle log of Captain James S. Codenamed: Watcher, from the source of the outbreak of the Zombie epidemic.
Last week I was walking through our encampment towards the mess hall and I found a grunt crying outside the door, he wanted someone to see him, just wanted comfort. After talking to him for a bit I realized that he was from this area and saw his wife while he was on patrol, but it wasn’t his wife, not anymore. I can sympathize with that, I saw similar things in my time, my family to be exact. When you’re faced with a situation like that, you just need to think of it as a release. You release them; the parasites are the real killers.
Speaking of which, we released around two hundred and fifty yesterday down by Mesa, where there is flesh, you find Zombies. Usually you don’t see them congregate like that, but afterwards we found that there was a large community of twelve hundred or so survivors hidden under the city, in the sewers. We pulled them out of there and treated the wounded and fed them all, they called us Saviours.
Those people are with us now, they outnumber the troops, but they’ve lost the will to keep running, all they do is fear. It’s a sad commentary on what’s happening in this world right now, their hearts turn to stone but their bodies move on, not unlike our enemy. This place is empty, and I’m stuck in the middle of it, all these men, women and children, not one of them carries my spirit. I find myself thinking back to the old days, the Green Berets alongside my friends. We had no fear, only Spirit, the Spirit of men with an objective.
Tomorrow we’ll be heading back to Mesa to look for more survivors, medical supplies, etc... I hope all goes well.
‘I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.’
-Litany against Fear, Frank Herbert.”
Excerpt from the battle log of Captain James S. Codenamed: Watcher, from the source of the outbreak of the Zombie epidemic.
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