~New Town, Same Story

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(This part by: matt_will)
Perspective of: Harry
Time: December 1st 2008, 7pm
We run up to the farmhouse. This is the first house that looks remotely hospitable; everywhere else has been infested with zombies. Please be empty. I think to myself. We’ve been travelling for a week now. The journey should’ve taken us only a few hours but we were ambushed on the way by military personnel and were forced to move out on foot. Thankfully we were over half-way there. God knows how long it would’ve taken us if we had to abandon the cars at the start of the journey.

I remember the ambush well…

We were about 3 hours from our destination and all of a sudden a burst of automatic fire shredded through the air, killing the front van’s driver. After that many more rounds zipped through the air.
So everyone jumped out of the vans onto the other side of the road. Getting out three of the Europeans were hit and killed instantly. Tom then told us to escape through the woods and we did so. A few of the soldiers stayed behind.
We ran through the woods and for a while we were safe…

When I get to the door, I stop and carefully open the door. If there are any zombies I want to sneak up on them. I take a flashlight out of my backpack and turn it on to see better in the dark house. After a quick scout we find that nothing is inside. The group is everyone who I’ve been with through Sloan City, the European commanders and a few soldiers. When we left it numbered about 40. Now it’s about 20.
However it’s not all bad news. We did manage to arrive at Pine Bluff Arsenal but we’ve so far not seen any sign of a lab, however that doesn’t mean anything. When we had checked to make sure the house was empty we began barricading up the doors and windows.
“Are you sure that will hold them?” asks my daughter sceptically after we finish barricading.
“Yes. Now quit worrying and find yourself something to eat.” I reply to her; we have had little to eat since we set out 7 days ago. I head to where I remember seeing a kitchen, with her. All I find is a few assorted tins and some bottles of water. I open a tin of soup and heat it up on a fire which I saw earlier.
At least the owners had plenty of firewood. I tell myself.
I drift off and remember what happened next…

After a few minutes the gunfire stopped and we decided to keep moving; it would do no good fighting against better armed and better trained men who outnumbered you. So we ran. Ran faster and further than we thought we could, but it was no use.
The soldiers were gaining.
Luckily for us we were still in the forest and we had just found a ditch. Well to call it a ditch was stretching the meaning of the word. What it actually was was a glorified indent in the ground. We jumped in and prepared to fight. I felt in my pockets and found that I had about 4 spare clips of ammo and two grenades.
Not enough. That fight in Sloan City used up a lot of ammo. I leaned my gun on the soil in front of me and looked through the metal sight.

They came in range…

I get snapped out of my memories when Elli shakes me.
“The soup’s ready” She says and pours me some into my bowl.
“Thanks.” I respond. I’m so famished that I down the soup in a matter of seconds. I don’t mind the scalding temperature. I head upstairs for some sleep. As I drift off I dream of what happened in that ditch in the middle of nowhere.

Without any command being give we open fire and a good amount of the soldiers are hit. However most of them only have minor-injuries due to having bullet-proof vests on. I raised my sites and aimed for the head.
POW
One of the soldiers goes down.
RATATATATATATA
The machine gun of one of the Europeans goes of in my ear killing a few Americans soldiers. However the enemy have stopped and are now lying down and returning fire. I looked around and see many of my comrades lying on the ground. There was no movement in their bodies. The situation was looking increasingly hopeless. It seemed that for every American soldier we killed 2 more took his place.
“Run. Run away to Pine Bluff Arsenal. We’ll hold them off,” A European soldier said. I looked around and saw that many of my friends were already pulling back, so I took a few more shots and joined them.
From then on we were running through the woods with little rest and little to eat. Even though we had radios to contact our allies with, we couldn’t seem to talk to them. It seemed that they were all wiped out.
We still haven’t heard from them…

(Well here's the first update of part 6. Hope you like it.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(this part by lordreven6)
Perspective of Private Reven
Date: last week of November, 4pm

My name is Reven and I work for the U.S. Military, or at least what’s left of the U.S. Military. You see a zombie plague happened recently and has been spreading through the country like wildfire. Its spread by touch, with carriers and infected hard to tell from innocents until its almost too late. I soon found out that the U.S. government actually caused the outbreak, but luckily they are now developing a vaccine. that’s where I come in. I’m a private in the Pine Bluff Arsenal Outer Perimeter Guard, P.B.A.-O.P.G, or just P.G. our job is to protect the vaccine development team from hostile survivors and foreign military groups.

Recently there was a containment breach at a facility in Sloan City. A group of European soldiers attacked the facility, and after letting loose specimens they are now heading this way to get the vaccine that will protect them from the monsters they unleashed. Of course if they do it will halt vaccine production and cost millions more to be infected. And to add to this, the Europeans apparently told scattered survivor groups about the location of the vaccine so we will have our hands full as they sneak on by.

“Soldier stop daydreaming, get your eyes back on the road!”, screamed the Sergeant at me. ”Yes Sir!” I responded, then I get pistol whipped in the leg for making noise. There isn’t any reason to care about noise, because we are surrounded by well trained troops and hidden in the woods. But hey he’s a officer, what can you do? So I just ignore him, and continue staring at the long dull road. My company was stationed here, because the Sergeant heard info that the Europeans were heading down this road. However being the arrogant, power hungry A-hole that he is, the Sergeant decides to take the Euros on with without telling the Colonel.

In order not to attract the attention of our fellow guardsmen at their assigned ambush spots, we have to be at least 3 hours away from PBA. In order to do this we need to go on a “scouting mission” for a minimum time of 12 hours, we have to travel light, and only 55 men can come. But this doesn’t phase the Sergeant, so we’ve been out here waiting for 8 hours now, with only the frequent fighting between me and the Sergeant keeping the men awake. Watching a road is very boring, the very least I could do is to provide some comic relief.

This time however it didn’t stay dull for long. A convoy of raggedy battle worn vehicles come barreling down the road with an unmarked van in front. Good ole Joe does it again, and shoots the driver of the lead van. When the survivors get the hint, they jump out and hit the ground rolling revealing foreign military outfits. I managed to shoot 3 of the bastards in the split second they stopped rolling.

The people who survived the initial firefight escape to the woods, leaving a few soldiers who die quickly while yelling something in Irish. Of course we follow them through the woods, and have a variety of skirmishes. Eventually though the hostiles get smart and decide to run for cover. Soon we find them hunkered down in a “ditch” with their guns aimed our way. I instantly drop to the ground, but the Sergeant and some of his close buddies weren’t so lucky and get gunned down by a machine gun. Luckily the sound of me laughing can’t be heard over the shooting. Of course we outnumber them and most of them pull back while around 10 are still in the “ditch”.

Of course I knew if we continued on like this, we would have many casualties. So I run up to the ditch, get behind the soldiers and order them to surrender so they can live. I say this is Gaelic and while they are stunned the others came to help me. I tell my comrades we should bring them back to base for questioning, and everyone agrees for fear of losing their lives fighting the remaining troops without leadership. So we take their radios, and begin the long track back to the base.

(well i decided i might as well get a part in, and it should be from military view. DO NOT kill my guy, but you can use him)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Perspective of Tom
December 1st 9pm

O’Leary, Calvin and myself sat in the study room of the farmhouse, with the doors closed.
It was a reasonably sizable box room, with a good desk, a window behind it, several chairs and a couch. A pretty strange thing in a farmhouse, I thought.

O’Leary finally got the satellite phone’s pieces working again, and Olli’s voice immediately came through. Apparently, the phone had already connected a call.
“…if you can hear this, we’re coming to get you,” said the radio crackling, “I’ve..”
“This is Tom, do not come and get us,” I ordered, “We need to discuss our options first.”
“…Alright Tom, what happened out there?” Olli asked, “Why didn’t you report in?”

“We were ambushed by US forces about two to three hours out by foot,” I stated as Freya entered the room, “We have about 7 KIA and another 13 MIA, possibly captured.”
“What strength of force attacked?” Olli asked, with extreme concern in his voice evident.

“I reckon about a platoon,” I said at first, before Freya held up two fingers, “maybe two, they’re caught us in a crossfire, there was little we could do but retreat to a better position without armoured support..”

Olli was lost for words.
“Most of the KIA and MIA are my lads,” I said finally, “I’m just glad they took twice as many of the bastards with them.”
Freya sat down myself me and embraced me slightly to comfort me.
I threw her off, perhaps too vigorously. I was in no mood for that.
I mouthed an apology to her as I realised my mistake.

“How is your end of things going?” Freya asked, taking the phone and putting the phone on loudspeaker.
“We’ve secured plenty of supplies,” Olli said, “Plenty of ammunition, we looted a US Army magazine.”

“Good,” I replied, “Any news from home?”
“They’re having the same trouble controlling the infection,” Olli said, “Other than that, nothing but the usual speculation.”

“Alright Olli, I want you to approach the arsenal from your position, and prepare to shell it on my command,” I ordered,
“I assume you have more ammunition for the 105s now?”
“We did find some,” Olli replied, “We also found some heavier pieces, shall we take them?”
“Yes, do it,” I stated, “Talk to you later.”

I clicked the phone off.
“I’m going to check on what’s left of my squad,” said O’Leary, breaking the silence that erupted.

“Well, that was enlightening,” Calvin said after another while, “We aren’t just going to blow the arsenal up without getting the vaccine, are we?”

“Of course not, we’re going to take the vaccine, then blow the base to kingdom come,” I replied,
“Then we’re going to bring the vaccine back to Ireland to synthesize it in large quantities.”

Calvin’s face looked slightly more cheerful after that. Especially after the words “back to Ireland” were uttered.

“What if the vaccine isn’t there?” Freya asked.
“Then we’ll blow it to smithereens anyway, and we’ll be looking for that Washington prick’s head on a plate,” I replied angrily.

She nodded in agreement.

“How are the rest of your former group holding up?” I asked Calvin.
“They seem pretty shook up,” Calvin replied, “I am as well, we aren’t military after all.”
“Are you ok though?” I asked, “No more of those seizures?”
“No, I’m fine,” Calvin said firmly, not wanting to be reminded.

“How is your new weapon by the way?” Freya asked.
Calvin hoisted up his Steyr by the straps, and shrugged.
“It’s easier on me than what I had before,” he said finally, “Still, I was pissed when found my XM8 was shattered by a bullet.”

“We’ll find a new one for you, I’m sure,” I chuckled, my mood lifting a bit.
“There’s plenty where we’re going…” Calvin replied sombrely, and I responded by nodding.

“Alright, go check up on those Yanks, I want to hear all about how they’re holding up in an hour,” I said, “Send in Heather in the mean time.”

Calvin nodded after a pause, and left the room.
“Why the girl?” Freya asked quickly.
“I think that Michael kid and her were close, if you catch my drift,” I said, “I still haven’t talked to her about it, and I think it is appropriate that I do.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.
“I need to tell her a few things that you should hear anyway,” I muttered.

Freya embraced me again, this time I let her.

The door opened, and Heather walked in.
Freya let go of me and went to sit on the windowsill.

I motioned to Heather to sit down on a chair on the other side of the desk that I was sitting behind. She did so silently.

“I haven’t talked to you about Michael yet,” I started.
Her face, that already seemed sad, turned more so.

“First, I’d like to express my condolences, as I did when.. well, you know,” I continued, “However, I think we need to discuss the circumstances of his death.”

She stared at me. It was quite unnerving.
I think Freya sensed this because she came over to my side again.

“We determined that Michael was captured and killed by his father,” I stated, “We’ve already told you that. What we haven’t had time to tell you is that he could have escaped.”

Heather’s mouth dropped open.

“Their radios were on the whole time, and Olli picked it up,” I continued, “Michael shot his father instead of using the initiative to escape.”

“So you’re saying he could’ve lived?” Heather asked, speaking for the first time.
“Yes, if he had ran,” I replied, “But I don’t think he was ever going to do that.”
“Why are you telling me this now?” Heather said.

“There were many couples in our group, some of them have suffered loss that could have been avoided. Duty trumps emotion in this game, sadly. That is why I must dismiss hesitation when Freya goes it alone on dangerous tasks, and it is why every other person in our units must dismiss emotional clutter. Michael wasn’t military, but I suspect he bought into the idea of duty. Add his anger into the mix, and I think his attack on his father was inevitable. He died doing the duty he assigned himself.”

“Don’t forget him,” I said sternly, "But you can't let yourself fall into a dark place because he's gone."

Heather nodded slowly, and got up.
She walked to the door, paused for a second, then opened it and left.

I breathed in a sigh of relief.
“****, that was difficult,” I muttered, grabbing a bottle of whiskey.
Freya grabbed the bottle from me, put it back on the desk and swung the swivel chair towards her.

She kissed me quickly.
“Would you do your duty?” she asked, “Or would you throw it away for me?”
“I think you already know the answer to that,” I said, “You are my duty. Everyone here is.”
Freya frowned.

“Of course,” I said, taking her hands and looking into her brown eyes,
“I have a bigger duty to you.”

Freya smiled, and began kiss me again.
Just then, Calvin rushed in.

He seemed to have news, but his face immediately turned to surprise when he saw us.
Freya ignored him for a minute, then broke off.

“What is it?” she asked with a hint of anger, as both myself and Calvin were speechless.

“Three of O’Leary’s squad made it!” he declared, recovering.
We all rushed out down the hall and into the large living room.

Two of the three were being congratulated quietly.
The third was buried in O’Leary.
Sarah Prendergast.

I smiled briefly.
I returned to commander of the unit, and got everyone’s attention.

“Alright lads, I want rotating shifts for the night,” I said,
“We’re going to proceed through the woods tomorrow to the arsenal.”

Everyone just stared.
Freya stepped forward.

“I know it has been rough. We were trained for rough. We need to rise above our circumstances, fulfill the oaths we took to our countries and avenge our fallen countrymen. If the vaccine is in the arsenal, we may even have a chance to save the entire human race from extinction. This time, it will be us that comes from the forest to claim lives.”

Freya then walked out of the room, ending her little speech.
Everyone stood for a few moments, then preparations for the night shifts began.

O’Leary helped Sarah onto a couch, put a blanket around her, and then proceeded to me.
“Happy she’s safe?” I asked.
“You don’t know the half of it,” he replied, to which I grinned.

“Better get used to the feeling of not having her around,” I replied,
“In our business, ****’s got teeth.”

He grunted in response.
Calvin came over.

“The Americans seem to have calmed down, except for Heather…” he said to us.
“****,” I muttered to myself.

“Anything else?” Calvin asked.
“Yeah, send Elli to the study in a few minutes,” I said, “O’Leary, with me.”

We went back to the study room, where I found Freya sitting in the chair I was, checking her rifle.
“Nice speech,” I muttered, as I sat in the chair beside her.
“I felt it was necessary,” she replied, as Elli entered the room,
“I thought you were going to leave this until tomorrow?”

“Take a seat,” I said, ordering Elli.
Elli did as she was told.
Freya nodded to me. We had already discussed the problem beforehand.

“I’ve had a thought,” I said.
“Oh?” she said.
“I think you may have not been entirely forthcoming with us,” I said,
“About the good Derek Washington’s tactics.”

“Why’s that?” Elli asked.
“We were ambushed, I thought you said he intended to test all the various strains of the virus by using them against us!” Freya cut in.
“I thought he was going to, maybe he thinks it is too risky to do so now!” Elli replied angrily,
“Or maybe the people who attacked us were acting on their own initiative!”

“Calm down,” I said, “We just need to be sure.”
“I am 100% sure that he wants to use infected persons with various strains of the virus against you, that is obvious due to his flouting of containment procedure,” she replied in a calm, precise tone, “If he wanted to kill you with conventional weapons, he would use enough troops to succeed.”

I frowned.

“Alright, I apologise for this,” I said, “We had to be certain.”
Freya crossed her arms, and rolled her eyes.
“Apology accepted,” Elli said, after a pause.

“Go get some sleep,” I ordered, “You too O’Leary.”
O’Leary and Elli left the room.
Freya walked over to the window

"If she's keeping anything to herself, we're not going to get it out of her," I said.
"So we're going on foot?" Freya asked, changing the subject.
"Looks like it," I replied.
"It's snowing," Freya said.

"Seriously?" I said, as I went to the window to check for myself.
Sure enough, snow was falling at a steady rate.

"It's not that heavy," Freya said, "Should be fine."
I shook my head as I went to lay down on the couch.

“I’m going to sleep,” I said, “You?”
Freya shrugged, and walked over to the couch.
“Sure, why not,” she said.

I lay down on the couch, and Freya lay down in front of me.
I kissed her on the cheek, put my arm around her and went to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Perspective of Freya
December 2nd
6am.

I woke up to take command of the last shift.
I pushed Tom off me, and he groaned for a while, but eventually went back to sleep.
Sighing, I went out the door and down the hall to the living room.

Stepping over people sleeping on the ground, I approached O’Leary, who was sleeping on the couch with one of his female privates. Sometimes I think I set a bad example with Tom, but I guess the alternative is that the whole expedition goes stir crazy. I wouldn’t have agreed to the drop in discipline regarding relationships, as I even had been on longer mission tours than this, but we had to after an incident back in Boston.

Muttering to myself, I kick the couch.

The two do not wake up.
After a direct kick to the leg, O’Leary woke up.
“Who is it?” the female private asked once he started moving.
“Tom’s one,” O’Leary replied, getting up.
“Tom’s one has a name,” I said sternly, to which O’Leary corrected himself.
“It’s Freya,” he said.

“Better,” I said finally, grinning, “Your shift begins now.”
He checks his watch, then grabs the rifle propped against the arm of the couch, and nods to me.
I wake up the remaining Irish troops, as well as Calvin, and tell them to follow me.

We walk out into the hallway, and up the stairs where we relieve the Swedes that were on watch for the past three hours. No enemies or infected had been spotted overnight.

The Irish take up their positions at the windows. I find myself in a bedroom with O’Leary, Calvin and the female private from before, at the corner of the house. Calvin was at one window, while the private was at another. O’Leary was checking his weapon on the bed while I leaned against the wall.

“So, is Tom going to come up?” Calvin asked me.
“No, he needs his rest,” I said, moving down the wall to sit against it.
O’Leary broke out laughing at me.

“Tom, needing rest?” he laughed, “Are you insane?”
I stared at him for a minute.
He stopped laughing.

“Oh, so it’s like that is it?” O’Leary said with a grin, “Tired out, is he?”
“As if it is your business,” I said, “Talk about my relationship with Tom like that again and I’ll kill you....”

I must’ve been blushing, because my face felt like it was on fire and the boys in the room had started laughing uncontrolably. I ordered them to go back to watching the outside, which they did.

“Snow’s reasonably heavy,” the private muttered.
“Yes it is, private...?” I started.
“Prendergast,” the private replied, “Sarah Prendergast.”

I thought it was the weirdest name I’ve heard in a long time.
At least Barry or O’Leary is a predictably Irish name.

“We’re going to walk through that?” she asked.
“Yes, we can’t delay much longer,” I replied, “In terms of food, we only have enough for a little while longer.”

“Do we have snow camouflage?” Calvin asked.
“No,” I said bluntly, “But we’ll be going through the heavy forest to the east, so it won’t be a problem.”

“I hope to hell the vaccine is there, I want to get out of this god forsaken country and get back to Europe,” Calvin said.

“I don’t think your American friends would like to hear that,” O’Leary said.
“This isn’t my home, is it?” Calvin replied.

Just then, a screech could be heard from far off.
“Banshee, from my direction,” Sarah said.
“Sounded like it,” I replied, “Calvin, go get Tom.”

Calvin rushed out of the room as I fetched my binoculars to search in the direction of the screech.
I could see nothing in the rolling fields, between the forests, but eventually spotted a group of infected, approaching fast. They were a good half a kilometre off.

I picked up my rifle, loaded it, and switched to single shot.
Tom entered the room with Calvin.

“What is it?” he asked.
“Banshees, approaching,” I said, “I don’t think those damn barricades will hold, I think you need to wake people up.”
“How many?” he asked.
“Easily a hundred, there could be more,” I replied.

“Alright, I’ll get everyone up,” Tom said, “Put anything in range down with extreme prejudice. All weapons are free.”

“I understand,” I replied, and went back to observing the targets.
They had moved closer now.
I called the machinegun team team in from the other room, and they set up at Calvin's window.

“Fire,” I ordered, and they began shooting.
The infected started dropping, though it was clear that we couldn’t prevent them from reaching the barricades at the windows and doors.

They finally came into range of our rifles, and the rest of us opened fire.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(This part by Nexus_Oblivion)
Perspective of: Heather, 18
December 2nd, 2008
Time: 6:11AM


I ran downstairs and positioned myself over a chairs n’ tables barricade as the Shriekers closed the distance. They plowed through the snow, their undead bodies, unfazed by the cold weather as they ran. Even the infected who barely wore anything, save for either tattered pants or shirts, did not register the chilling temperature. Several more soldiers joined me near the window; their breaths, the only reminder that they were human under all that military gear, primed their weapons at the approaching group. I had learned the basics of using Michael’s M4 and switched the firing mode for 3 round bursts. The Shriekers moved closer and closer.

40 feet. . .
I breathed out.
30 feet. . .
I breathed in.
20 feet. . .
I tightened my grip.
10 feet. . .
I fired my assault rifle.

3 rounds exited the barrel and struck a Shrieker square in the neck. The European soldiers fired, their bullets ripping through the air as they killed many more. I adjusted my firing mode to sync with people beside me, and sent a continuous stream of bullets in a sweeping motion. This proved more effective than my other, fire 3-shots-at-a-time method. I reloaded my weapon.

Unfortunately, a few dozen infected managed to reach our position and attempted to gain entry to the farmhouse by crashing through the windows. Several of the soldiers braced the barricade while the rest of us fired away. The Shriekers outside did as their namesake suggested and furiously slammed the windows, breaking more glass, as they attempted to force their way inside to the living meat they hungered for. One Shrieker managed to get halfway through but a quick bullet to the head put a stop to that. I replaced my empty magazine with a new one and resumed firing at the infected outside. The whole ordeal only lasted a few minutes but a slew of spent cartridges were lying on the floor.

"Is everybody alright down there?" David’s voice carried down the stairs. "Anybody dead?"

"We’re fine, David," I yelled back. I slung Michael’s rifle over my right shoulder and made my way upstairs. Upon seeing David, leaning over the railing, I stifled a laugh. His black hair was frazzled and his gray military clothing was on backwards. "God, you’re a wreck."

"Yeah? Well bite me *****," he playfully retorted. David smiled and walked into a nearby room, presumably to fix his attire. Unlike him, the only thing I removed before going to bed was my boots and assault vest. Sure, I may have the constant smell of sweat and dried blood, but at least I was already half-ready if **** ever unexpectedly hit the fan during the night. I shook my head and went into the bathroom. It was a standard medium sized room, nothing special. The toilet was several feet in front of the door, a full roll of toilet paper hung beside it; the counter in which the basin was built in, was too my left, resting under a mirror that doubled as a medicine cabinet; finally, the bathtub which didn't appear to even fit one person was only two feet from the sink. I leant Michael’s rifle against the basin and searched the medicine cabinet in front of me. After rummaging through unknown containers of medication, I saw what I was looking for. Beside a box of band-aids lay a thin two inch razor blade. Tom’s words echoed in my head.

. . . you can’t let yourself fall into a dark place because he’s gone.

That might have meant something if you said that a week ago, I thought. I pulled my right sleeve up, revealing seven horizontal scars about half an inch apart on my forearm. The newer ones were still raw and tender. Each one, having a necessary purpose. I slid the razor deep across my flesh; the thick, bright red blood, seeped out slowly. I clenched my fist tightly as the red liquid dripped into the basin. Every drop, leaving a perfect circle as it hit the surface before it broke and flowed toward the drain. Another day you’ve been gone.

"Hey, who’s in there?"

I dropped the razor and turned on the tap. "It’s me Elli!" I said, whilst washing away the blood on both the sink and my arm. The water stung my arm as it entered the exposed flesh. I quickly pocketed the blade inside one of the empty pouches on my vest.

"Can you let me in? I gotta pee!" she shouted desperately, knocking on the door. I splashed some water on my face and wrapped toilet paper around the wound. Another knock on the door. "Hurry." I pulled my sleeve down and grabbed Michael’s rifle. One more glance at both the sink and my arm, before I opened the door and Elli came bursting in. Choosing not to stay and watch to her urinate, I quickly made my exit. David greeted me on my way out.

"Still look like a wreck?" he asked, posing. It seemed he did readjust his cloths. Everything was worn correctly. His muscles, while not as big as some of the soldiers here, complimented his attire well.

"Good job," I smiled. I reached up and patted him on the head. "Unfortunately, Brendon kept the dog treats for Shadow. So I guess
that will have to do." I walked past him and decided to head downstairs. While walking down the cream colored steps, I bumped into Calvin.

"Haven’t seen you around much," I casually remarked. "Feeling at home with the Europeans?"

He grinned. "You could say that," he replied in his Scottish accent. "I’m going to see Tom. Why don’t you come along?"

"Nah. I’m gonna play with Shadow."

"Ha, alright. I’ll see you when we move out."

It seemed he was becoming more distant with us, the Americans, with each passing day. A part of me wished he wasn't, but it hadn't progressed far enough that Calvin wouldn't relay what had been spoken in the meetings with us. I continued walking down the stairs and then into the kitchen. Harry, Mak and Brendon were sitting on chairs beside the kitchen table. While the rest of us had some from of military clothing. Brendon, to his benefit or detriment, had only a brown leather jacket with a katana strapped to his back, and a custom .45 holstered over his blue jeans. His German Shepherd, Shadow, looked up from under his Master’s chair.

"Heya boy. Come here!" I bent down and motioned the dog over to me. It seemed he was a bit apprehensive but eventually, he came. I ruffled his fur and scratched his ear. "Good boy." The dog panted and barked loudly. It had been too long since I’d seen an animal. Come to think of it though, Shadow, was the only dog I’ve seen since this whole thing happened. I made a metal note to ask how Brendon managed to keep his dog alive for so long.

"Talk about your early morning wake up call," Harry commented, while taking a sip from a steaming cup of what looked like coffee. "Nothing like the sound of guns to act as your alarm." I laughed and took a seat next to him. Shadow laid back under Brendon’s chair.

"I think we’ll be leaving pretty soon," I exclaimed, placing Michael's rifle on the table. I could feel the toilet paper sticking to my wound.

"Yep, we’re all heading into the forest," Brendon replied. I nonchalantly picked at my forearm, passing it off as me just scratching, as he continued to speak. "Me and Shad are gonna take point. If there’s any trouble around, he’ll smell it." The dog gave a confident sounding bark to which Brendon patted Shadow with a loving hand. In midst of our conversation, a European soldier dressed in green garb walked up to us.

"We’ll be leaving in one hour," the soldier told us. "In the meantime, gather what you need and prepare for the cold weather." We thanked him and he left.

I turned to the others and said, "Suppose we should get ready, huh?"

They nodded in agreement and we all stood up from our chairs. I grabbed my rifle and went to search for something more to wear. The search didn't take long; after rummaging through a bedroom closet, I found a long, marble green woolen coat. After heavily dusting it off, I donned it on and found it to be a near perfect fit. I thought it best to not button it closed, seeing as it would prevent me from accessing my vest. I spent the remainder of the hour eating what I could, before we all were called to leave the farmhouse.


I elected to join Brendon and Shadow in leading the forest expedition, but met some resistance in the form of Tom. Eventually, he left me to my own accord and I was walking alongside Brendon, with Shadow a few yards away, sniffing both the ground and the air as the dog trudged through the snow.

(Three things: 1, sorry about my writing style. I've been trying to get my grove back but it doesn't seem to be working. 2, I don't think Phoenix_Lord's on this wiki but I'm using his character so they have some use in the story. 3, I still have no idea what do in the forest but I'll continue if no-one else will.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(This part by Nexus_Oblivion)
Perspective of: Derek, 47
December 2nd, 2008
Time: 6:11AM

"Derek. How's that base in Idaho workin' for ya?"

The General's voice over the Satellite link was as clear as if he were standing next to me. A small suitcase that contained a laptop-esque computer laid in front of the metal table as I leaned in front of it. The screen displayed the connectivity status of the call. A numbered percentage was fixed on a double digit number. It was running at 99% clarity. Whatever that meant. "The base is good, sir," I answered. "Although, truth be told, sir. I can't really work with such a limited amount of people and resources."

"Well Derek. After that fiasco down at Sloan, the higher ups, decided you should only be given the bare necessities." As condescending as the General tried to be, I knew he didn't care. "The geeks working hard?"

"Yes, sir. They are," I replied. I flicked a stack of reports laying beside the suitcase laptop. "Williams has got them working on the same batch as the idiots down in Arkansas."

"Careful Washington. Those are American Troops you're talking about."

"My apologies, sir."

"You can drop the formalities. How's Project Filium coming along?"

"Not good. According to the satellite images, the test subject hasn't moved since being injected. I think it's officially dead." The General paused before he responded.

"Keep an eye on it, regardless."

The connection severed and I was left in silence.
~~~~~~~~~~
This part by pokecrazy

War torn area..................FLASHBACK

I had always been paranoid. It was kind of fun, in a way. Like one big game. I was never prepared for this.
No one could be......

End of FLASHBACK

"Get movin'!" bellowed the unshaven overweight man. In the shadows I saw dark shapes flitting back and forth. The Infected. I ran for my life, jumping over corpses. Corpses. They were everywhere. As I leaped over one, its eyes flickered and opened. I shot it between the eyes. A person with a missing arm and leg does not get back up. He must have been infected. I fired blindly behind me as I ran, grimacing as the bullets shot towards their victims. I knew that ammunition was getting scarce. I only had a pistol. My SMG had been smashed by a Titan as I had been running after the front lines had been broken. My God.....those Titans are scary.

Let me introduce myself. I am Obergefrieter Hans Schmidt of the South German resistance. You see, Europe is the last outpost. We think. Communication from the rest of the world were cut off after "They" came.
Our main base is in the Alps. Plenty of food and water, plus a great look-out area. The infected had started to appear in Paris and they quickly spread across our continent. The German and Russian Army had been holding them off at the Rhine for the last three years. The British hardly have any problems since they are on an island and sometimes they send over volunteer troops. One day, the Infected broke through the Rhine Defense. German and Russian armour brigades held them off and instead they poured into Northern Italy.
We haven't heard from the Italians since.

" Hey Hans! Over here!" It was my friend, Rupolph