News from around the world relating to plague diseases and apocalypse.

Showing posts with label Moses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Moses. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Jack's Speech

"Everyone. I'm not sure if Mike's told to all of you where you're headed next, but where that is, I won't be joining you. These last few months, we've met many people that wanted us dead, some I once called friends and some strangers. Through it all, I thank you for sticking together and standing by one another. In life, you don't often find friends who would be willing to die for you and I couldn't ask anything more of you. Mike, you've saved my life on a number of occasions and you've always sought to do good by your friends and even by those you meet. Through my eyes, I believe you could accomplish anything. Julie, even being the youngest here, you've done amazing things. You're certainly braver than I was at your age. All of you have done great things and you'll no doubt continue to do so. I don't want to ramble on much longer. Time is of the essence. It's very possible humanity might die out, but even in its bleakest moment, our courage shines through and as long as we keep this, no matter what we do, there'll always be hope. Still, I can't live for the sake of living and I don't want to die knowing I did nothing to help this world. That's why I'm heading out to destroy as many as those monsters as I can. I wish to fulfill this hope even if it means leaving the good of my life behind."
Share:

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Jack's Diary - Bound to Death - Day 93

*Early Morning*
     I kept dreaming about it. The gathering of soulless, burning in one large fire. One by one, the fire would spread and engulf each one individually. The sky would fill with black smoke and the audible moans of the soulless would all come together in one torturous harmony. After a while, they would stop moving and simply lie down, the fire finally laying their wandering bodies to rest. For some reason, I found this so beautiful. I must be a sociopath or something. Still, dreams will remain dreams unless I make them a reality.
     Today was different than all the ones that came before it and I'll tell you why. It was barely morning when I felt someone kicking me.
     "Hey, get up you lazy bum," said the person. I didn't recognize the voice so once I was awake enough to be aware of the situation, I quickly drew my handgun only to have it kicked out of my hand and another gun put to my head.
     "Jack, seriously. Relax. It's me, Grant. Remember?"
     When you have a gun pointed to your head, you don't have much else to do, but think. That's when I remembered. He then took the gun away, seeing my look of realization I suppose. Grant was an associate (I guess you could call us friends even though I hadn't known him long) that I knew when I was still at the Hill. When I arrived, he was already well trained and a few months later, he left.
     No sooner he did this, he pointed it at where Mike was sleeping.
     "Ah, don't even try it," he said to Mike. His eyes were closed, but I could see that his hand was very close to his gun. The others woke up quite concerned when seeing Grant.
     "Guys, relax. He's a friend," I told them.
     "Why are you sleeping out here? You could be staying at Patrick's Mine."
     It turned out there was a base in town, or rather, near the town. It was established in a system of abandoned mine shafts. It got it's name from the sign the first guys to start it found on the boarded up tunnel. Grant led us there. I don't know if it was nostalgia or the anticipation in seeing what this mine looked like, but for once, I was happy. The others didn't look too pleased with Grant and were pretty wary of his presence, but not me. Any person from the Hill is a brother to me. It turns out Grant wasn't a member of this group of survivors, but he was hired to find more and to lessen the soulless population in the area or as he calls them, freaks. He made his living as a mercenary, traveling from town to town, being hired to either kill freaks or troublesome survivors, to guard location, or to gather hard to come by supplies. One benefit from this is that he had gotten a lot of cool equipment, including a SWAT helmet and what looks like a katana. He laughed when he noticed my Double Sledge. As I remember, he wasn't much for building his own weapons.
     The other's attitudes lighted up after entering the mine. All the entrances had been boarded up except for one that was on a large hill (a good strategy) and another secret entrance that was used for bringing in large supplies. Apparently, this town was a big place for mining back in the day so there are abandoned mine shafts everywhere though this seems to be the largest. The people there were very welcoming and they had everything you could imagine; food, water, weapons, couches, a generator, medical tools and supplies, decorations on the walls, a garden right outside the entrance, and some pretty attractive women (they also had some young children, which is good; we can't let the human race die out). For a system of tunnels, they really made it look good and went the extra mile to make it as stable as possible, putting extra support to the ceiling among other things.
      I'm going to cut this short. The others are checking out the base while Grant and I are going to catch up on old times.

*Late at Night*
     Let me start from the beginning. Grant told me he had something important to discuss, something that couldn't be mentioned in front of anyone else. I found this to be odd, but decided to trust him. We left the base and went into town and found an old wooden two story building. We went into one of the rooms on the second floor and closed the door.
     "Was coming out this far really necessary?" I asked.
     "Perhaps not, but better safe than sorry."
     "So what's this important thing you wanted to discuss with me?"
     He sort of smiled, "Did you ever wonder how we became so knowledgable and skilled in using weapons and surviving?"
     "Not really. I just figured the Hill offered some kind of ideal environment for the training. There were also a lot of knowledgable people there to share knowledge with."
     "Did you ever meet the man who started the Hill?"
     "Of course. Ted Jackson; one of the smartest guys I'd ever met! It was sad when he left to start a new base."
     "Did you know he's died?"
     I paused for a moment, I stood across from him. I hated hearing bad news about my old comrades.
     "I can definitely believe that," I told him. "It's very easy to die nowadays."
     Any happiness on his face disappeared as he continued to speak. "He didn't die by normal means. After he left the Hill, he began to experience serious mental problems: seizures, depression, paranoia, schizophrenia, and signs of alzheimer's. He eventually went insane and was put down by his friends out of mercy."
     This sounded very uncharacteristic of Ted. He was awesome. I looked up to him since the day I met him. He was always calm and serious whenever I spoke with him so pictured him paranoid was just impossible.
     "You brought me here to talk about him? As much as I cared about my comrades, this doesn't seem like something that needed to be kept secret from my friends or anyone else."
     "It's not Ted's death that is important, it's why he died and what he did to us. We didn't gain our skill by natural means."
     "What other means are there?"
     He looked me stern in the eye, "Ted mixed medications into our food supply that made us what we are."
     I really didn't know what to say.
     "I couldn't believe it either when I found out." There was a sadness in his voice that came through more and more as he explained to me what he knew. "Ted was never a soldier or an experienced expert as we thought he was. Back before this world went to hell, Ted worked at a test patient at a medical testing facility. They'd were giving him a drug and never told him what it was for, but he soon figured it out. He was a man who believed that the end of the world was coming so he was constantly stocking up on food, supplies, and training and educating himself on combat and survival though his training took on a whole new level when he began taking that drug. He went from forgetting where he put his keys to memorizing books word for word. As for how the drug works, I'm sure you've heard that it's much easier to learn a language at a younger age. That's because kids have a large amount of neural pathways open which allows for much easier learning, memorization, and comprehension and keeps this information around for a long time to come; that's how they go from a blob of flesh to intelligent beings. This drug restimulates the neural pathways in the brain, giving existing ones a boost, prompting the brain to create new ones, and rewiring older, unused ones to make learning and analyzing much easier. It was developed with the intention of being used in military training so it would take less time to train soldiers. When the outbreak happen, Ted broke into the facility and took the remaining drugs so he could continue taking them. After a few weeks, he started the gathering place of survivors known as the Hill."
     "How do you know all this?" I asked.
     "Well, unlike you, I knew there was something weird about all this. No one goes into training for a few months and comes out experts. A few weeks after Ted left, I finally decided follow after and confront him. That's when he started showing the signs. I stayed with him until he died; I just couldn't confront him about it seeing him like that. I found out later he kept a journal documenting everything from his first dosage at the facility. Through it, I tracked down the facility and looked through their files. The fact that they were testing that drug on humans was insane. It was never approved for testing and what's worse, they tested it on rats and while the rats showed an increase in intelligence, they all died from neurological deterioration."
     "This means that we're bound to suffer the same fate. Why would he do this to us?"
     "Because he didn't know about the life-threating side-effects though he was aware of some side-effects like possible depression and mood swings, but if your trying to train men to look after themselves, you look for every advantage possible. no doubt you've experienced some of the side-effects; Ted lasted about two years on the drug, meaning I'd say we both only have a few months to live before we end up just like he did in his final days."
     This explained everything. It explained why my mood changed after leaving the Hill because I was no longer taking the drug (withdraw symptoms), why I was suffering from depression and why I was so paranoid a lot of the time and that seizure I recently had.
     "But why did you feel it was necessary to talk about this in private?"
     "Well, one, I didn't know if you wanted your friends to hear you'd be dying soon and two, that you have an enhanced human mind through drugs. Anyways, part of the reason I've been traveling around, looking for people from the Hill to let them know. I think you're the last one so you can have this," he handed me the Ted's journal. "At this point, I don't think I'll find anyone else anyways. He wrote things about all of us in there, including you."
     I thanked Grant. I sat down on a chair near a desk and tried to find what Ted wrote about me. I was so lost in confusion and grief that I didn't notice Grant had drawn his gun. There was a shot. I turned around to see Grant fall over. The door opened and I saw that it was Julie holding a gun. She'd been listening in on the conversation.
     "He was going to shoot you!" she yelled to me.
     Grant went to point his gun at her and I shot it out of his hand.
     "Grant, what the hell is wrong with you?!"
     Grant slowly stood up facing me with a smirk on his face. "I believe you remember our combat practices. We'd fight to see who was better. Neither of us have long to live so I intend to prove myself to be the greatest. And I'll do this by killing you."
     A grenade fell to the floor from behind Grant and he made a dive for the door, landing onto of Julie. I dashed to the door myself, just making it out as it blew, but the force of the explosion threw me into the wall. I looked up to find Grant punching Julie over and over. I dove at him, knocking him off her. He wasted no time in retaliating and kick me off. Before I knew it, he had disappeared, but I knew he hadn't left. I checked see if Julie was alright; she was bruised and unconscious, but breathing. I then began peaking into room, being cautious of every corner he could be hiding.
     "Come on, Grant. Don't do this! We're friends! Comrades!" I yelled.
     He spoke, but his voice seemed to echo throughout the entire building. I couldn't make out his position at all.
     "To a dying man, friends mean nothing since last I checked, you can't take friends with you. Nothing you do can help me now or yourself."
     "What will killing me do?"
     "Nothing! Nothing at all and that's the point. There's no time to leave a legacy any longer. Isn't that the meaning of life, to leave some impact upon the world? To change it? We think we have all the time in the world, but we don't. We know it yet we never really live it until we've reached the point of no return. We're bound to death, not life."
     "There is still time. If we work together, we can do something to make a real difference."
     At this point in our shouting match, soulless began entering the building, attracted by the explosion and our screams. I rushed to Julie to lock her inside one of the rooms so they wouldn't get her. I proceeded to shoot and kill the soulless approaching me. Down the hall, I heard the sound of the air being sliced; the kind of sound a sword makes. I turned the corner to find decapitated soulless and a door closing. I followed in after. I didn't see him inside the room.
     "It doesn't matter, even if we did manage to make a small change, no one would remember or acknowledge it." It sounded like he was in the room, but I couldn't find him. "If the human race ever rises above this bleak period, they won't remember our struggles, they'll only know that there were struggles, but not ours. Not what we went through to survive, to keep the human race alive."
     "It shouldn't matter if they remember us or not. We'll know what we did."
     "Why should I care about a tomorrow that doesn't care about me? Besides, I have my own wish to fulfill before it all ends. We were the best of any men on this Earth. Together, we could have taken this world back from the freaks, but there just wasn't enough time. There's only one thing I wish to prove now and that's who's the best."
     "Being the better killer means nothing!"
     "To me, it means everything. It's all I have left. I intend to die in battle and not suffer the same fate  Ted did. I saved the others from this tragic end, just as one of us will be saved from that suffering."
     That's when I realized what he had done.
     "You killed them. All of them?!" I yelled.
     "Nearly all of them. All of our teachers are dead. If I missed away, hopefully I'll find them in time, but now..."
     I shot at the mirror believing it to be him, only for him to shoot me in the side.
     "The skill of throwing your voice was something they didn't teach us."
     He walked up to me, probably to put a bullet in my head. As soon as I was shot (I think the bullet broke a rib), I already lit a flash grenade when I fell to my knee (the one made out of a lighter yesterday). Just as I heard his footsteps cease, I fell to the floor, slamming it to the floorboard, emitting a bright flash of light. I took advantage of this and quickly ran for the door (this time I was smart enough to keep my eyes closed). Just as I closed the door, Grant blasted off a piece of the door with his scattergun. I turn the corner, killed the soulless opposing me and stood in the doorway of one of the rooms. I expected him to come around the corner to get me, but it became very obvious he knew this place well. Luckily, I heard the sound of a creek in the floor and caught him sneaking into the room through a sliding wall. I unloaded my gun on him, shooting him eight time in the chest. He stumbled, but only looked up at me with an intense glare.
     "Bullet proof vest," he said. Saying nothing myself, I drew my shotgun, only for him to go through the sliding wall again. I followed, narrowly ducking out of the way of his katana. He knocked the shotgun out of my hand and pushed me across the room. He still had his shotgun, which he wasted no time in raising to me, just as I wasted no time in reloading my handgun. I jumped off to the right as he pulled the trigger; I got him twice in the left leg and he got me in the left arm with the scattergun. Upon landing, I shot the scattergun out of his hand and he dove into the next room, but not before tossing a grenade in. It was a miracle I managed to reach it in time and throw it out the window. I proceeded to pick up both the scattergun and my shotgun and went after him again. This time, he wasn't too hard to find, seeing as he was leaving a small trail of blood behind. Sadly, that didn't stop him from taking me by surprise. He snuck up behind me, punched me directly at the base of my spine, causing me to drop the two gun and then pushed me down the hall.
     "Let's end this little chase like men. No guns."
     I didn't care what he wanted. I went for my handgun only to find him holding it. He tossed it behind him. He drew his katana, wiping off the blade with a rag he took from his pocket.
     "Whenever you're ready," he said casually. At this point, I needed to get out of here. Julie and I both needed medical attention. I decided to face him man to man, if you want to call it that. I drew my homemade sword and walked forward. It was an interesting fight to say the least. In five seconds flat, he sliced through my own sword, cutting it into pieces so I took out my the Double Sledge. One strike from the katana did a number on the wooden handle of the Double Sledge so I tried to parry his attacks with the metal sledge heads. Whenever I saw an opening, I swung my weapon, but I always ended up hitting the walls. Not long into the fight, he brought one end of my weapon, leaving me with a Single Sledge. He then grabbed my weapon, slammed the metal sledge into my face and was just about to run his katana through me when I spin around and used the momentum to deal hit to his spine. He fell to the floor stiff as a board, his face expressing agonizing pain. At his collision with the floor, his helmet came off. I would've finished him off then, but soulless were approaching again and being so weak, I just picked up my handgun and shot them. A rule in fighting is never take your eyes off your opponent. When our eyes met again, he was holding the scattergun and unloaded a round on me, directly into my abdomen. He might as well hit me with a train. I was barely conscious now, but could see him reaching for the shotgun, as his scattergun must have run out of ammo. It was then, the best timing possible that Mike and Moses showed up. They shot a few rounds Grant's way, hitting his right elbow and arm. Grant just threw another grenade their way, and they ducked for cover. Luckily, it didn't make it to close to them, but it was enough to distract them. Grant continued reaching for the shotgun and only having two round left in my handgun, I fired at him, but I only hit him in the outer region of the neck, very close to the shoulder. All I had left were knives so I threw them. By luck, one hit him square in the neck, stopping him in his tracks.
     "You always did like playing with knives, didn't you?"
     Through what looked to be sheer determination, Grant stood up, grabbed his sword, and limped to me, intending to finish me off.
     "I will live long enough to see you dead," he said. Mike and Moses were there to stop him though.
     "What the hell is going on between you too?!" screamed Moses.
     "No one will stop this fight! No one!" Grant yelled, knocking Mike's gun away just as he pulled the trigger, sliced Moses right across the chest with his katana, and then leaped toward me.
     He ran his sword through, but not through me, the floor. Much like my former comrade, I saw the potential of a shotgun with ammunition in it. Too weak to lift it, I fired it at ground level, striking his left ankle. He fell to the floor for the last time. Mike and Moses picked their guns and stood over him, probably deciding who was going to finish the job. Moses did the honors, putting a bullet through Grant's head. No sooner had Grant been killed, Mike and Moses stared down the hall, Mike saying, "Oh, shit," as they fired their guns. Soulless, no doubt. Before I passed out, I tried to point to where Julie was. Don't know if I succeeded.
     You'd think I was a dead man, but thanks to the people at Patrick's Mine, I lived. Seven hours of surgery. I'm told a number of people who had blood type O donated their blood to me, including Mike. To think, all that work to save a dying man. Moses and Julie are fine. Mike wanted to know what happened, but I told him to go talk to Julie. She heard what we were saying and had saved my life. Not only that, mike and Moses would've never showed up had they not been out searching for Julie. I owe her a lot. I asked Mike if he or someone could go get my stuff and Grant's weapons as well, including his bullet proof vest (we can probably give some of his stuff to the people here at Patrick's Mine. It's the least we can do.) Not the sword though. Grant broke my sword and Sledge Hammer weapon. The sword is mine!!!
     I only have so long left and now I have to waste a good deal of it recovering. Life really isn't fair. As much as I don't want to leave, I have to do. I have to do something more now that survival isn't an option for me. I have to leave.

- Jack's Diary
Share:

Monday, August 25, 2014

Jack's Diary - It's About Time - Day 88

*Morning*
            Mike’s still missing. I would’ve went out to search, but the fog complicated matters and made it near impossible to find Mike, let alone not mistake a soulless for him or the other way around. Moses wanted to light the flare last night, but I convinced him to wait. I thought Mike went back on the trail to pick up equipment he dropped. I regret stopping him now. We’ll have to wait until this new patch of fog clears before lighting one now (we shouldn’t take the chance of wasting one or attract unwanted attention. Mike may also be sleeping somewhere and not watching).
            Julie’s taking it pretty hard. Moses and I take turns keeping an eye on her. She’s already tried to run off twice to find Mike.
            Moses keeps giving me looks, the kind of looks you give to someone who just cut you off in traffic.

*Noon*
            Fog’s starting to let up. It should be gone soon. A few soulless wandered into our camp. We took care of them though (probably wouldn’t have mentioned them if I wasn’t trying to prove something to myself).
            I went out and gathered some berries and then tried my hand at fishing. I had been awhile. I had some fishing line with me and asked Julie if she had a hair pin I could “borrow” to make a hook. She didn’t though I had a wire clothes hanger with me and broke a piece of it to make one; managed to catch two trout before I lost the hook.

*Early Afternoon*
            Victor and Jess are back with us. The fog cleared so Moses lit the flare. Within an hour or so (at least, it seemed like it to me), Jess and Victor came walking down along the river. They were up the river a mile or so and had stayed there for some time (we really didn’t give them a specific location along the river so it’s understandable).
            As to where they were the whole time, they claim to have woken up in a deep pit without any recollection as to how they got there. It took them two days to climb (they didn’t spend the whole time climbing. More so falling back in and trying again.) After enough wandering, they found there way to the tree fort and then here. I didn’t feel like telling them about what mike, Julie, and I were doing so Julie did the storytelling. Needless to say, they were shocked. They probably thought she was lying, but Moses confirmed her story.
            Mike still hasn’t returned. I’ll give him a few more hours before I start looking for him.

*Night*
            Mike’s back. Looked like he was going to pass out when he showed up, but he made it back. He told us he tried to lead some soulless away from camp while we were sleeping (he should’ve just woken us up). The important thing is we’re together. Mike says we’re headed toward a town for supplies. Well, it’s about time! I’ve been inching to make some new stuff.


- Jack’s Diary

Share:

Monday, August 18, 2014

Jack's Diary - Until That Time - Day 86


*Early Morning*
            I don’t care what Moses thinks. It wasn’t my fault. What was I suppose to tell them when I had that first dream? I wasn’t even sure if all that stuff happening it was real. They would’ve told me it was just a dream or worse, locked me up for fear I’d gone nuts. Of all the things Ann could’ve done, that had to be her last act. To stand back and watch us kill each other. What the hell am I writing her name for still? Never again! No more!
            What puzzles me is why Moses was left alone. He woke up and everyone was gone. Why was he spared? (Maybe as an insurance policy in case “she” failed, Moses might have killed me, especially if Mike had been killed).
            We got up early and are about to continue to head for the Grand Oak River. Still no sign of Jess and Victor.

*Noon*
            Right now, I’m sitting up in a tree, still not in a 100 percent condition. Had I been previous, there would’ve been no contest in that fight with (just a series of punches and kicks I dodged and landed on him). Now we’re resting. All of my grenades and flash grenades are gone, but luckily, there was some ammo left over at the tree fort and our stop there allowed me to bring my other non-essential stuff along, like books (I left them there, expecting to come back if my mission was successful. Had I not, someone else would get them). I hope we’ll stop in a town again some day; it’d give me a chance to restock and make some more weapons.
            I’ve been thinking about that story. She said Carol had been a lab rat for a company. She couldn’t have been the only test subject; human testing labs always have more than one to more firmly establish that the test results apply to everyone and not just the test subject, even in extremely risky cases (you never want someone to question the results of your research because that could mean starting all over again). The thought of more nutcases isn’t comforting, but it’s possible the other subjects weren’t bitten, were killed, or they reacted differently than her (whose to say if that story is even real). If it is though, I’d like to find this company. Developing a substance to change the nature and jobs of cells is not an easy thing to do. Perhaps there’s more to the experiments and the company itself.
            Everyone’s quiet, probably thinking about Victor and Jess. Would you think less of me if I told you I didn’t care if they were alive? I don’t know why, I just don’t feel sad or worried. I wouldn’t abandon them and I’d lay down my lives for them, but I don’t miss them. I just don’t feel… anything.

*Afternoon*
            We reached it, Grand Oak River. Honestly, not really that grand. There was a flat rock outcropping, like a small cliff, eight feet tall next to the river bank. I was going to suggest we make a camp on it, but it would take considerable work to pitch and anchor a tent on a rock. After everything was set up, I got on top of the rock and looked out. There was something, like a town or city in the very far distance. Nothing else, but trees and birds.
            I went out and gathered some plants and berries. Many plants take advantage of the river water so vegetation was not in short supply. I also managed to catch two large frogs (one I speared by throwing a knife. I actually didn’t think it would work). I spent most of the afternoon cooking the frogs. Everyone tried it though I don’t know if they liked it.
            I’m starting to get a little concerned. I keep getting these migraines. They’re not extremely bad, but I never had them this often. I didn’t even notice them when they started, until they became a regular occurrence. I guess it’s kind of selfish for me to be thinking of myself at this time

*Evening*
            I’m on lookout right now with Mike. I’m thinking about things again. I can’t help, but ponder the line between right and wrong, for myself especially. There’s still no sign of Jess and Victor.

*Night*
            I just finished my lookout time with Mike. I now sit atop the rock and write this. The night’s quiet save for the sound of rushing waters and night creatures. There haven’t been many soulless bothering us. It’s funny, I used to always write about the soulless I encountered and killed. Now, I hardly mention them at all. Their intrusion has become a norm like eating and sleeping so much that I could kill 10 without even thinking twice. Even the faces are beginning to melt into one ugly image in my head.
            I’ve been rethinking my earlier statement, about what happened to everyone. It may just be my fault. It certainly isn’t the fault of those who died. Had I never met Mike and his group, I’d be dead and they never would’ve gotten involved in the matter. She would be alive too, but she probably would’ve found someone else to stalk. All those people, all those lives, every single one of them died because of me and it’s always how it is. No one stays alive for long when they’re around me except for Mike. If Jess and Victor don’t show up then that’ll only go to prove my point further. It’s like I have a grim reaper hovering over my head, pulling my strings and watching time unfold and the death count rise. If I can’t protect anyone then what the hell is the point of living? My entire purpose was centered on the idea that I could preserve lives, save people from a demise they would have met without me. It’s as if I’d help more if I didn’t exist. Maybe I should just spend my time killing soulless? I don’t see how any harm can come of that. Less soulless to bite and bother. If we ever reach another city or town, I might leave then, but not yet. Until that time, I’ll contemplate what to do next.

- Jack's Diary

Share:

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Jack's Diary - Indifferent - Day 76

*Morning*
            I caught up with the group; I was almost shot by one of the patrols they had roaming the area, but that’s what you get when you arrive near dawn. They had all stopped for the night and had dug ditches to sleep in (I don’t know why they never considered climbing trees and sleeping there). Apparently, we’re heading toward some place with tree houses. There wasn’t a single smile on anyone’s face and I could have sworn I saw out of the corner of my eyes Moses giving me an angry glare. I didn’t sleep; just wasn’t tired.
            Like I wrote previously, everyone except for myself left the base before the evening came. I would have met up with the group sooner, but there were some things that needed to be taken care of. There was a lot of stuff I wanted to bring with me so I piled most of it in the red wagon I obtained after my last “shopping” trip. It must have taken me an hour yet I find it interesting that no Valors or anyone came to loot the now exposed base as soon as possible. Leaving supplies for the enemy is generous, but not a good war strategy so I did what the Russians did during World War 2, which is the Scorched Earth Policy (a dignified name for a brilliantly destructive action): whenever the Russians retreated from their bases or houses with the approach of the in coming German soldiers, they took what supplies they could and burnt the rest, preventing the Germans from using them. And with just a can of gasoline and a box of matches, I did the same to the buildings and the wall (after taking what I wanted). If I had any Russian ancestors, I’m sure they’d be proud (this is why I’m writing the day after because I didn’t have a safe room to sit in and write).
            There was a little gas left over so I thought I’d try it on a soulless. Holding my double sludge against its chest to keep it an arm’s length away, I poured the accelerant on its leg, lit it, and watched to see what it would do. It didn’t react any different than normal, even as the flames climbed up its leg and covered it. After a good 20 minutes (I counted), it collapsed. I’ve lit soulless on fire before, but I never watched one die from it.
            The soulless really didn’t bother me or I should say, I handled them just fine. Any soulless that came close got the full blunt force of my Double Sledge or for when I was holding the gas can, a knife to the throat. Even as I left with to my left and right, I couldn’t help, but look back. A place that used to be a home now will soon be nothing except heaps of charred history and more ground for the bane of humanity to trot on. Through the smoke and floating ashes, I thought I saw a woman near the entrance smiling. A second look revealed it to be a propped up corpse against the burning wall (I think).
            I came out with so much new stuff. It’s amazing what my own comrades would leave behind: a large combat knife, a rifle with one of my silencers, a revolver, a long piece of metal of some kind (think of a yard stick that is 1/5 inches thick. I plan to wear one of its sides down to make a blade), five pocket knives, and artistically carved walking stick (I think the picture on it is suppose to be a boat in an ocean storm).
            It was a pretty long walk. I frequently checked to make sure no one was following me. By the time I was there, it wasn’t long until morning so I climbed a tree and waited. It’s morning now and I’m still writing and they’re ready to move.

*Afternoon*
            We reached the tree house places. Had I not seen it for myself, I’m unsure whether or not I would have believed it. There were so many, as far as the eyes could see through the forest of maple and oak, all of them sturdy, clean, and at least 10 feet off the ground. They were the perfect protection against nearly all soulless and they would be difficult for enemies to reach without proper equipment or proficient climbing skills. Within the dark windows, there were figures moving about. There was no question as to whether a few of these were ghosts or not as they stuck their heads out along with their guns, obviously skeptical of strangers such as us.
            Mike was in the lead of the group and I was near the back so I told the guy in front of me to tell Mike I was going to examine a few of these tree houses by myself. I didn’t know if Mike planned for this to be our new base, but I wanted some more time to myself (I don’t know why though).
            I called up to two of the tree houses, but the people who answered back refused to throw down a ladder. The group was pretty far off, to the point where I could hear silence fighting its way into the space around me. To pass the time, I sharpened my newly acquired pocketknives and throw them at the truck of a tree of one of the tree houses (my aim was still as good as it always had been). I went to retrieve them when I noticed some small words, that had been lightly coated over with sap, were carved into the tree. It said, “Live in hope of a better future and a memorable past.” I didn’t get to finish reading at the time, because a young woman dropped down from the tree house, slammed my arm against the tree, making me drop my knife and then with one hand, forcefully pushed me to the ground. I had my gun draw before my backside touched the ground and had it pointed at her.
            “Don’t touch my tree!” she said.
            “What? The tree’s your property as well?” I responded
            “My grandfather planted it for me so yah, you could say that!”
            I put my gun away. She handed me my knives.
            “Not to sound too rude, but can you please go somewhere else? I’m very protective of my home,” she asked.
             I could understand her; you can never be to certain today. Strangers are even more dangerous than soulless. At least you know a soulless is dangerous, but a stranger is like the weather; even if you’re good at telling the weather, it often times doesn’t act as it should and suddenly, a tornado hits you (just an example). Before walking away, I asked what the phrase carved into the tree was. She said that her younger sister put it there. I glanced up at the tree house and didn’t see anybody moving so I’m only guessing what happened to her sister and grandfather.

*Evening*
            This place is abnormally deprived of soulless. I sat down most of the afternoon, found a good stone to use in sharpening that metal yardstick thing, and went to work. The noise didn’t attract any soulless though I did get yelled at by some of the neighbors and had to move around. During one of my relocations, I saw that on the border were soldiers (or people dressed like them), standing guard around the perimeter. Any time they saw a soulless, they’d go up and club it to death (it reminded me of police brutality). This would explain the devoidness of soulless here.
            Really, there’s not much to say for the day. Just when I thought Mike might need me, a man came up to me from my group saying, “Where the hell have you been?”
            Before I could answer, he told me the group requested my presence. He didn’t say who exactly wanted me. He’s telling me where to go right now and is waiting impatiently as I finish this last line.


- Jack’s Diary


Share:

Featured Post

Nuclear Apocalypse and its Benefit.

  Do you dissapprove of plunging the world into a radioactive hell? Do you know that there is actually a benefit to get from a nuclea...

© 2013 Insideapocalypse. Powered by Blogger.

Search This Blog

Pages

Inside Apocalypse

Blogger templates