World War Z ? Survivors tales

[Drong]

After the brilliant book by Max Brooks who also wrote the Zombie survival guide and the recent interest here in the subject I thought some of us might fancy the chance to write our own survivors tales and expand upon the story he created. You might want to write it in stages like a diary or as an in retrospect or any style you fancy really, I'm going to write mine in parts and hopefully post the first this afternoon.

Also as it was a whole world event with many disparate groups of survivors you can choose to tie yours in with other peoples stories or go it alone.

I'd like us to please stick within the boundaries laid out in the book for those who haven't read it

1. Zombies are re-animated corpses as opposed to virus infected humans as such they lack the co-ordination for running any further than a short dash, climbing or swimming.

2. This is a class 4 outbreak, a world wide event, it is believed to have started in rural china and spread from there

3. World governments attempted to cover up and then downplay events in a ineffectual attempt to prevent panic, at first they called the virus 'African Rabies' and various big pharmaceutical companies tried to cash in with fake cures, there was also some badly lead attempted wars against the zombies.

4. Zombies though not able to swim are able to walk underwater and this caused the spread of the virus even to islands though the spread took a few months before the whole world was affected

5. The zombies will not starve, they have the primal urge to feed but do not actually require any sustenance, the virus that causes the state also slows normal decay by killing the insects and bacteria that would accelerate it, this means a zombie can survive many years before the elements erode them, even longer in sealed environments.

6. The only way to destroy a zombie is massive trauma to the head or decapitation

7. The war lasted in total 10 years


A Quote from The Guide...

Zombies have no memories, no language, no culture, no lairs. The invariably fatal zombie virus is transmitted by bites or scratches. When the infected person dies of the disease, or for some other reason after they have been infected, the body quickly reanimates. It immediately seeks out the living to eat, or at least to consume: zombies can no more digest than they can breathe. They decay very slowly, especially the ones on the bottom of the sea, from which they sometimes emerge after walking remarkable distances. They can be killed (well, de-animated) only by destroying their brains. Individually, they are not formidable. The nearly fatal danger to the human race comes from their habit of swarming. They give off a low moan when they become aware of the presence of the living, thus alerting other zombies, who in turn alert other zombies, to join in the pursuit. By this means, the undead can form chains that encompass the former populations of whole cities, or indeed of continents.

 

[PurpleRain]

I love and own Max Brook's first novel on how to survive a Zombie Outbreak and have been wanting this book ever since it hit the shelves. I am so ready for this!

 

[calsipher]

Day #299

Nothing new to report today, snapped my bow string and lost a knife during a run in with a crowd of zombies, its getting harder each day and i have seen anouther living soul in over a month, still the plan goes ahead and each day i make a little ground on the path out of london.

Help is coming to those who need it

 

[The Reverend]

Ah, Max Brooks is a genius, I've read his Zombie survival guide and it was great. He should be a politician, he makes that stuff sound almost plausible. Though, We should expect no less from the man who's the son of the Legendary Mel Brooks. I'll let the ball start rolling before I come in. It'll give me time to re-read the survival guide.

 

[Saskwach]

Ah, Max Brooks is a genius, I've read his Zombie survival guide and it was great. He should be a politician, he makes that stuff sound almost plausible. Though, We should expect no less from the man who's the son of the Legendary Mel Brooks. I'll let the ball start rolling before I come in. It'll give me time to re-read the survival guide.

First off, he really is a genius; some of his insights are truly...insightful. They fly in the face of conventional zombie wisdom and they're more likely to be right.
Second, is he really the son of Mel Brooks?

 

[DangerousFat]

Yes, he really is the son of Mel Brooks.

 

[John Galt]

Diary of a Zombie

Dearest Isabel,
Though my body be wracked by solanum my love for you still lives on. Ruefully, I've since lost my sight to some damn humans who couldn't aim and I can only picture your face in my mind. My new companions and I have been searching the countryside for a place to call our own. Our dream is to find a land free of human prejudice, free of the shoot & burn strategies that plague our race. We want a land where our second generation infectees can rot and feast in safety. While our journey is by no means easy, and our own lack of coordination provides quite a setback, I feel I'll 'live' to see our dream come true.

Standing right behind you,
Dennis

 

[Drong]

China closed its borders today, there's still nothing on the news though the net is going wild with rumours, most of them seem confused or even farcical but at the escapist there's very little argument anymore, not after Max Brooks statement this morning, it said simply
"It's happening, be ready"

I get straight on the phone to my brother,
"Si have you seen the net?"
"Already ahead of you, c'mon we've been expecting this for years, Plan Z's already in motion, Dad & I are on our way to Eastbourne to buy battle orders entire stock of ration packs and as many katana's as we can"
"Just max the credit cards" I say "the banks won?t be around much longer anyway, I'm on the way to Polegate to do the same at Stringtown Supplies, you take both cars?"
"Yeah thought we could get more in that way"
"Good stop by the land on the way back and get all the tools and make sure you get my strimmer"

I'll just stop briefly here and tell you about my strimmer, it's petrol powered which is nothing special, what is special is the fact i've removed the plastic blades from the end and replaced them with a 9" circular sawblade, this thing will go through small trees with nothing more than a 'ting'

"will you stop worrying man" he says "I told you I've got it covered and Mums on the way to the garden centre now to buy as many fruit and vegetable seeds and tools as she can"
"Great once you?re done grab the guns and head for Mike and Stephs, I'll meet you there"

It's at points like this I'm glad my Dad's a certified gun nut (and Chairman of Mid-Sussex gun club to boot) and my brothers a half crazy survivalist, I jump in the car and head to Jess?s, Jess is my PA and helps me run raves and outdoor parties, she is the best organiser I know and has managed to help me make sense of the madness of my life for the past 3 years.
At first she doesn't believe what I'm trying to tell her (or rather doesn't want to believe)however I eventually manage to persuade her I haven't gone completely crazy and she sets about rounding up all the crew from round Brighton.

"Get Nick, Kev & Elvis to grab their generators" i tell her "and to think all the problems we got into for throwing those outdoor parties, well being able to have power without the grid is going to become awfully useful soon. And get the rest of them to get to the supermarkets to buy all the non perishable food, all the water and petrol they can, also all the spirits especially the cheap ones, we can convert the diesel generators to run off them if we have too. Then have them head to Arundel and Mike and Stephs or Johns or Nexus's"

She starts running through her phone book calling everyone we know with nearly mechanical efficacy, she doesn't take any shit from anybody and silences the doubters fast, while she's doing this I get on the Phone to Mike

"Dude your about to get a whole lot of people turn up on your doorstep, get all the Arundel crew ready to house a whole lot of refugees"
"Woah what the fuck man? whats going on?"
"You not been on the net? You haven't heard?"
"No man I've been up north DJ'ing, you're lucky I'm back here at all"
"Mate it's finally happened, you know when there is no more space in hell the dead shall walk the earth"
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking Zombies man, the big Z, China's crawling with them it's why they shut their border this morning"
"Stop pissing me around"
"I'm not" I say having to restrain myself from shouting "it's really happening and we don't have long before it gets here too, check the net if you don't believe me but do it quick and get everyone in Arundel ready"
"But why Arundel?" he asks exasperated
"Because when the anarchy hits we're gonna take the castle!"

 

[Bakahead]

Seeing as how I'm a fan of these books and have too much time to waste thanks to being off work. I'll write one for you folks now.

The old college town of Oxford has a different face than what it had before The Great Crisis. Fire ravaged buildings are being torn down and what little construction that can be afforded is built far away from the once prestigious Cambridge University. Now boarded up in a failed attempt to thrawt the undead, salvaging of the momentous building is halted by rumors and tell tale signs of undead occupation. It is outside the grounds here that I meet up with former Police Sargent Clyde Gill (he makes sure I describe him in this book as an avid gamer oddly enough) to discuss the "Wheatley diary", first found in the house in the small village of Wheatley and possibly evidence of the first large scale zombie outbreak leading to The Great Crisis in England

"I was dispatched at the early hours in the morning to Wheatley to check out a social disturbance. Since the village didn't have it's own police force local forces from larger towns came to patrol it, as well as the local surrounding towns. Why Oxford, which was a hell of a lot closer couldn't do it was beyond us at the time, but raised a few suspitions with the boys. When we arrived, well, it's pretty much the same story you hear all the time when someone first "stumbles into a zombie kill zone". It's never what you see, but what you smell that scares you, and we were scared sh*tless by the time we got to the scene. Blood dren..."

A loud siren fills the air. I turn my attention to the group of people at the University buildings. Portable hi fi systems have been placed just outside of the newly destroyed barricades of the building. The sound makes it hard to hear Clyde

"Sorry about that, now where was I? Oh yeah. Blood drenched streets, people or bits of them everywhere and not a soul in sight. Red smears along the walls met artistically with the many shades of brown that trailed through the streets. There was a lot of cutlery strewn about where people did what little they could in the time they had, Some bloodied, which we guess had struck the target without result. Since there's a lack of fire arms in our country I guess it's harder to defend our selfs than you lot in America. But what made things worse were the toys. The children who had ran with their favourite belongings, only to be pulled away, never playing with them again. At the time a zombie attack wasn't even last on the list of possible things that could have happened, but nothing human could possibly have done this. Rioters wouldn't have left the windows intact and the possibility of a gang attack was ruled out due to no evidence of guns. Cars were still parked by houses, most adorned with a new crimson decoration. We braved the village and followed the trails which lead from door to door and then to the outskirts of to where wilderness and man met. we could see lights of a nearby town. Alan, my partner called for back up while the me and 2 others went to investigate the first building with what little courage we had. The door was open, but we dared not enter the building until the sun decided to rise and provide us with a little more light. The building had been barricaded with wood, someone was expecting all of this to happen and had tried barricading themselves in. Wooden panels were inside the door, telling us someone had kicked it down in an attempt to get in. About 9 O'clock (Autumn was nearly ending) we finally entered and were greeted with signs of a struggle and our first body, or first 3.

People start running around us towards the sirens. Many are carrying melee weapons, some have guns

"Looks like we've fished them out finally. Anyway, The bodies. Two females and one male. We guess another had been involved thanks to a severed foot being clutched in one of the female's hands. The first female suffered from a missing finger, various cuts and a close range bullet wound to the head. A path of brown ooze trailed from her feet to a broken cupboard. We heard that the people at the morgue found the key to it in her stomach. The second female and male both suffered bullet wounds to their heads as well, with major wounds on their torsos and appendages, however, no gun was found. One of the constables I was with turned heel and ran outside. Lucky for me I didn't eat breakfast, but this sight was enough to make anyone re-experience yesterdays dinner and lunch. Heading to the door I noticed a red and blue book lying on the floor. I didn't noticed it was actually blood until I picked it up. It was a diary, the owner was one Alex Farling. It seemed to be just an ordinary diary at first. Exploits of clubbing, daily chores and one or two cases of drug usage had been recording. But the last few entries were a different story, the guy had gone backpacking with friends and..."

Clyde is once more interrupted, but not thanks to the siren which I now notice isn't playing. We turn our heads to see shapes emerging from the college building and falling down to the rhythm of bullets being fired from the salvaging team

"Sorry mate. But it looks like our interview ends here. I'll send you a report of the book sometime, but for now. It's time to go Leroy Jenkins on some undead ass!"

He turns and runs towards the action, brandishing a pistol from his back pocket. As I am escorted away from the scene I hear unfamiliar battle cries including the words 'Chunked', 'Gibbed' and 'Headshot'. 'Gamers huh' I mutter to myself as I take my leave.

 

[Drong]

We have been in Arundel a month now and the house is rammed to the rafters with people and supplies as are 5 other houses across the town, to say its uncomfortable would be an understatement but the initial discontent has passed, it passed as soon as the pictures started to come in from Eastern Europe and then those that had left in a storm of complaints came running back fast.

It seems Russia had been battling too for some time before the Chinese announced the border closure but the old iron curtain had come down in a total media blackout, if our government knew any more about it then they weren?t telling us, apparently they thought they could contain it but whatever they tried it clearly didn't work.

Poland's already fallen and the Germans are fighting fiercely, the NATO lines designed to stop a cold war invasion were never designed to cope with an invasion like this and they are loosing ground fast, before Poland fell a couple of bloggers managed to get some video online and the free press, what there is of it managed to get the message to the masses, it was uproar, panic and fighting in the streets.

That was 3 weeks ago, now the supermarkets are empty and the whole countries on edge, the government is frantically protesting that there's nothing to be afraid of and pass the whole thing off as African rabies.
They've shut the border and think the oceans will protect us but they sound like they are trying to convince themselves, the worse bit is most people seem to believe it, that denial and little islander mentality is going to get a lot of people killed and I don't intend to be one of them.
Marshal Law has been declared and the army's swarming to the coast, it's far too risky for us to try and take the castle yet, we've gotta wait till the zombies actually hit then we can grab it in the confusion that follows.

The news from the rest of the world, what little there is of it is not looking good either, the governments seized control of all the main media outlets but from what we can gather from the limited sources online it's already spread through large areas of the Middle East and Africa but those in power all of the first world nations are either downplaying the threat or denying it altogether and any website's that post anything related to it are shut down fast, we have a whole team of people here just scouring the net for anything they can find.

I don't dare place our plans on the escapist yet, I figure they are smart enough and prepared enough to survive the main outbreak and I just hope the net survives long enough to get the message out after, too soon and the town will get swarmed making the plan impossible, too late and I might never be able to tell them, well self preservations got to come into this too, I just can't risk it yet.

 

[Drong]

additional: My friend Chris the Hippy raided the plant nursery where he works before coming here and now crammed in between the tents in the garden and in every spare space in the house we have vegtable seedlings growing, pretty soon we are gonna have to rely on these but it's been hard work convincing panicked people to share what little space we have with 'stupid plants' soon they literally have to eat those words, if something else doesn't eat them first

 

[Alan Au]

World War Z is a great premise spoiled by a couple of glaring problem that spoil the fun. I mean, some of us take our zombie-fiction seriously, and the entertaining character vignettes are spoiled by the illogical premise of how and why zombies are what they are and how to fight them effectively.

I've heard that he has a grudge against the military, but the alternative tactics that he suggests are silly and ineffective. I pity the poor fools who try to emulate WWZ tactics when the apocalypse hits. That and some of the characters are just embarrasingly cliche, which I guess it kind of the point, but it detracts from the every-man struggle against the undead hordes.

- Alan

 

[Indiscrimi]

(In World War Z, Max Brooks conducts several "interviews" in Canada, but never with actual Canadians. I feel that this is a major oversight.)

In the early days, we didn't know much about what was headed our way. All we knew was that is was bad. People said it was some kind of rabies...and it was spreading....

When we realized that it was becoming a war, my friends and I started digging for information. Little things got through to us, mostly by word-of-mouth or independent news sources: Automatic weapons were apparently useless, but the attackers could be stopped by destroying the brain. ...It made no sense - if destroying the brain works, why not filling them with holes? But what the hell, it would be difficult to get anything heavier than hunting rifles and shotguns in this country anyway. Swords seemed to work, so I was happy enough to haul my Katana out of storage.

We gathered everyone we could find, armed ourselves (some of us with nothing more than machetes), and headed to the most defensible structure we could think of. We prepared our resources, we fortified our position; we only had a handful of guns, but plenty of ammunition...we were intent on defending our home from whatever was coming. ...We might've lasted a few years, too, except....

We came to understand the term "second amendment" very well. Millions of Americans came into our country, trying to find safety in colder temperatures. They were panicked, they were desperate, and all of them were armed. At least, that's what it seemed like. They shot anything that moved on sight. ...We lost more than half of our group before we even saw a zombie.

 

[Kieran210]

As I entered the old prison, my first impression was of the silence there. There was only one convict left, the rest have been returned to the community or otherwise dealt with. I was still apprehensive at the prospect of this interview, despite several armed guards in the facility.

When I met Aurthur Wainwright, I met a middle aged man with a paunch, a man who looked like any other survivor in Britain of the Z war, a figure who struck me as quiet and rumpled. I had to remind myself that I was in the presence of the man known as the Cleaver Killer, who had been convicted of at least seventeen unprovoked murders, and could be responsible for three times as many. He speaks slowly and carefully, as one would for a last will and testament. His final appeal has been rejected. We both know what the future will bring.

'I would talk about my experiences of the Z War, but I think it would simply reflect that which everyone knows, that we all lost someone. Before the war, I was a scientist, a lecturer, a man who prized reason above all things and elevated logic to the level of a god. I thought I knew myself, and I though I had a handle emotionally, that I had tamed myself with civilisation. But then the war came.

I lost my wife. I left her behind me as I fled for my life in a crowded street in Leeds, the dead closing in from the northern end and the southern end flooded with the screaming panic stricken mob around us. I felt her hand slip from mine, the final touch of the skin I knew so well, and then she was consumed by the mass terror which had surrounded and destroyed us. The sheer animal reaction of the people had destroyed my love, the most civilised thing I could imagine.

But it was not just my wife I lost. With her I lost any grasp on my own animal nature. I escaped the city with blood on my hands, my arms, my face. I do not know where it came from, this blood, but I know it was not all zombie blood. I had killed anything that had got in my way, and when I rested, I howled my grief against the full moon and dashed my hands against the rough bark of trees in an effort to express the pain I felt, the loathing and the loss that ate away at my chest.'

The first glimmer of emotion, and you could see the animal inside, held in check, a vision of the horror which he had apparently harnessed.

'But I also knew the power which I had marshalled, the survival instinct that makes people do incredible or terrible things when threatened.I knew the rage would power my arm, long after simple reason would have allowed me to die. I was armed simply with a butcher blade, a meat cleaver I had sized from a looted butchers shop as we tried to escape, but I sharpened it under the watchful moon and watched the edge catch the light like a bead of molton silver.

The next day I killed. I killed everything, like a man possessed by the demon himself. I came across a small group of zombies and I let the anger fill me, the red mist descend and when I recovered, I found the dismembered corpses all around me. I next came across a camp fire, a collection of survivors and I felt the hate for the weak betraying humanity that had deprived me of my wife and I butchered them with joy in my heart. I ate their supplies and I took from their corpses what I needed to survive, and then I continued on.

I travelled for weeks through what is now called 'The Great Panic', with no plan and no idea of where I was going, just the desire to sate my rage at everything through blood and terror. I was known in rumour as the 'Cleaver Killer' a horror more akin to a zombie than a man. I killed a woman who I found alone one day, who had been travelling with a group, slipped and twisted her ankle, and then been left behind. I helped her up, comforted her, saw the weakness of humanity in her eyes, the terror that had killed my wife, and then I put my blade through her throat and let her lifes blood soak me as I watched.

Eventually, after months of blood I was caught, after fighting off a zombie group in a three day running battle across the moors, by the last army patrol in Yorkshire. I attacked them, they arrested and subdued me, and they did not kill me as I wished, as I begged them to do. They took me on the retreat, and I was held in this place for the years since then, awaiting trial and then punishment. I have been here seventeen years. I am glad I will not see another.'

Three days later, Wainwright was executed by firing squad. The Prime Minister was quoted in the press, as saying 'this execution marks the end of one of the darkest periods in our history, and our movement back to our enlighten future'

 

[antipaganda]

War. War changes everything.

These are the words that have been ceaselessly rolling through my head for the last five months, as I hear them over and over again from my laptop. My old, borrowed laptop with only one game on it. Fallout 2. It's not fair. Spore was coming out in just a few months! Fucking zombie virus couldn't wait a few months? I'd just bought Sins of a Solar Empire, but that got taken by the fucking zombies along with my brother. Poor bastard. He really wanted to play it, but we couldn't find a powerpoint in time.

Ha. I must be crazy. Spore! What stupidity. It wouldn't have been much fun without the update packs. Not much updating going on these days. Bloody zombies. Even out here in the desert I would have had satellite broadband. No chance now though, the Net's buggered these days.

Then again, it could have been worse. I might have lost my laptop. Hell, I might have ended up somewhere other than this farm, somewhere that didn't have solar power. That would have been pretty bad, I don't know if I would have survived. Minesweeper and Solitaire can't keep you sane. Oh god, think of it. Those bouncing cards would send you mad after only a thousand times.

Ah, I love this part. I always play this part the same way. People have told me I should try out all the options, but no. I always blow up the ghouls. These last five months, anyway. It's my way of honouring my bro. He would have loved to be around for those weeks when we were setting up the defenses, working out the best ways to funnel zombies into the gullies... I feel that I've got to kill as many of the fuckers as I can. Since they're sorta thin on the ground out here (they dry out, which slows them down heaps) the only way I can do that is to blow up the ghoul reactor. Shame to do it, since I like the guy with the shrub on his head, but at this point I'm starting to see only code anyway, I've played through it so much.

So anyway, I hope someone hears this broadcast; I'm leaving it on auto-repeat; the ham radio doesn't take that much power, and with solar, who cares? This is Russell Dovey signing off; back to Fallout.

War. War changes everything. Everything. War. Everything....

 

[Drong]

*****I'm loving these, great work and here's the next installment of mine and the castle is now open for business if people want join this little group of survivors put your story of how you get there here and i'll write you in*********

Well the castle is in our hands but it took us nearly another 3 weeks but finally it's ours, maybe I should recap.

We started hearing gunfire from the coast, for the first week it was occasional and sporadic but it's gradually increased in increased and for the last week it's become pretty much continuous, not a machine gun staccato but a single shot every few seconds, someone in the chain of command clearly knows his stuff, they must've had convoy's of ammo trucks running all along the coast.

Some reporter in America finally broke the story, it was all over CNN and once the blackout was broken all the other news channels jumped on it pretty quickly.

I thought the panic before was bad but it was nothing compared to this, people can't deny it anymore, the wools been well and truly pulled from there eyes and blood was literally running in the streets and this was still weeks before we actually saw any zombies.

We just holed up in the houses and waited for it to blow over and by the time they finished it was a ghost town, the government had managed to convince people they could hold them at the coast so everyone rushed inland, they are trying to set London up as one big safe-zone, personally I think they're crazy.

We expanded our operation then as friends and family of the group we had gathered began to arrive in dribs and drabs but steadily, we had to take over more houses in the area to house them all and set to looting everything useful we could find and getting it all packaged up so we could move it fast.

We also did a recce to the castle, found it locked up tight with little sign of life though some of the lights were on, my brother also came up with a hair brained scheme to steal a dump truck, bulldozer and as much other construction material as possible, he found a sand and gravel quarry in Chichester about 5 miles away and nearly all on main roads, I agreed he could take a couple of dozen people and liberate whatever he could.

Last night we finally decided the time was right to make our move, Si left at the crack of dawn this morning on his mission to raid the quarry for all it's worth, he ended up taking 26 people with him including a couple of my dads nutty gun friends for fire support, I spent the rest of the morning marshalling our small army and awaiting his return.

We had 274 people in total including the team on the dumper mission, 216 of these were able bodied and the remainder were kids or the elderly, among these were 14 of my Dads shooting friends with a total of 95 firearms between them, everything from old black powder pistols to military special forces grade sniper rifles, we have 134 swords, most of them replica's of dubious quality hough they should be ok as long as they don't have to use them too much, also various other axes, tools and bludgeoning weapons.
Personally I had a matching pair of properly tempered blades and my Dad's Marlin 38 special carbine, short enough to use in confined spaces yet with a scope for when I needed the range, it's always been my favourite of mine.

My Brother returned just after 12 leading his little convoy and jumped out of the cab barely able to contain his excitement
"We saw them man, ran them down, Carmageddon's got nothing on us"
I tried to get him to calm down and explain what had happened
"Zombies man, a whole crowd of them, it was clear on the way in but on the return journey they had started to swarm and we smashed straight through them"
"Right no time to loose" I shouted "lets move out before the dead heads get here"
I jumped in the cab of the bulldozer and led the convoy as we rolled out

Jordan Was in the cab with me as we headed out, he had been with Si and seen the Z's and did not look happy, He's ex-navy and not easily shaken so I asked him what was eating him,
"Very funny, but those things did not look like they came from the coast, they looked like farmers and country folk and there were no signs of water damage and it seemed as if they came from further inland, I think this has already spread even more than we thought"

Once we got to the fort we gave a gentle rap on the gates with a sledge, after about 10 minutes of knocking an old chap in a smoking jacket and brandishing an antique shotgun appeared on the walls, he bellowed down at us that he was the Duke, this was his castle and we could "Kindly Bugger off!"

I've never been a big fan of the aristocracy at the best of times and this was clearly a case of the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few so I dashed round to the servant?s door and used a 20oz C02 bottle to freeze the lock solid then a couple of solid blows with the sledge and the door swung open, stupid fools hadn't even bothered to bar it, we swarmed into the fort.

I'm not proud of what happened next but it all happened so fast, the Duke, his son and a butler were waiting for us behind a Bentley parked by the main gate, Rowan ran pretty much straight into them and took both barrels of a shotgun to the gut at a range of about 20 yards, somehow he?s still alive at the moment though Dr Mat recons he hasn't got long left, the return fire was intense and bloody and left the Bentley and the 3 standing behind it shredded, the only other injury we sustained was Dan catching some buckshot in his arm but it looks like he's going to be ok and will even be able to use it again providing it doesn't get infected.

We opened the gates and got the cars and equipment in and I got Kev who was a foreman previous to this organising work groups to seal the secondary entrances and the lower windows with the stuff we had acquired from the construction yard.

The Duchess and a small group of others have sealed themselves in her private quarters, when we discovered them we recieved a torrent of abuse I would never have expected from the mouth of a Lady, 'murdering bastards' were among the nicer things she called us, I don't know what to do about her but that's a problem for tomorrow, tonight I'm going to post a message on the escapist letting them know about our little commune and then drink a bottle of scotch till I stop seeing that image of the Dukes poor dead son's face with half his head missing every time I close my eyes.

 

[Kieran210]

'Mission report - 18-07-2010'

'S+R Mission, North East. 2nd Platoon, 3rd Company, 1st Battalion, The Royal Anglian Regiment. Lieutenant Simpson Commanding'

'Patrol left Camp Gordon, south easterly heading, at 11.46am'

'Approach objective bunker from South. Commanded first section to take point as reccee. Corporal Jones reported zombie contacts in heavy brush, and I manouvered the platoon into firing line position. Engaged enemy at 3.27pm, using small arms. Firing continued for an hour, at which point the enemy were defeated, approx. 30 - 50 Code Z destroyed. Valour was shown by Prv. Markham, destroyed four Z hand to hand. Mentioned in dispatches. Casualties, 2. Sergeant Wheelwright, injured his leg on concealed man-trap. Treated by platoon medic. Prv. Andrews was bitten, ordered to take L-pill. Died at 4.17 pm. Marked for grave detail.'

'Entered bunker in staggered formation, sweepers and covers first. No contacts, signs of fortifications. Found body, broken neck, sliced chest. Old body. Marked for grave detail. Entered heavily damaged fortifications in the central area, found mid twenties female body, pregnant. Bullet wound to the skull. Marked for grave detail.

Second body, male, mid twenties, left leg removed below the knee. Was slumped over laptop computer. Was disarmed of a 9mm beretta, serial number 997-346-274. Also found 9 clips of ammunition. Corpse re-animated when approached, but was destroyed by Prv. Markham. Marked for grave detail'

'Also found confessional note, printed off, making reference to five other murders, with female accomplice. I retained this for INTCOM and then processing to FUTCRMS unit for further investigation. Marked bunker as secure, and then sealed entrance using C-5 explosives'

'Platoon returned to Camp Gordon at 8.27 pm. Men paraded for inspection and stood down. Prayers said for Prv. Andrews and others.'

'Sighed Lieutenant Simpson, CO'