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Case File: II45894-036
Classification Level: Classified - Clearance Level 9
Case Subject: "Infection" Incident - Documentation.
Case File Note: The following is a collection of notes and journals obtained from survivors of the "Infection" Incident of three years ago. The Journals have been broken down by entry in order to better document the chronology of the event.



Begin Case File Fifth Entry

Case Subject: [url=http://www.texasteamplayers.com/index.php?action=profile;u=2478]Ficet99

Dec 8

We had started moving through the streets where I just followed Walker around wherever he was going trying make as little noise as possible. When we came across two of them at a diner Walker started making all these weird nervous hand signals, he looked kind of ridiculous and funny but I got the message, then I knocked over a glass bottle... It was really silent but then one just started tracing me with its eyes which Walker again pointed out to me with hand signals.

When it got close Walker drove his cleaver into it's neck which was pretty gory, the other one saw him and then darted toward him, I was going to just stab it in the chest when it close to him but then he shot it in the face (which did look very cool) but then he got attacked by this one that screamed and moved extremely fast. It started clawing at him and I calmly walked over and hit it in the face with the butt of my shotgun, (should have used my knife or bat when I think about it but I still looked awesome) I backed it to a wall and caved in it's face with the end of my shotgun finishing it off.

Walker looked at me like a God (I could never be this good in a video game...) and then we patched him up. We walked on and came across another one of those things that Had scratched up Walker, he looked really freaked out... He threw a rock at it trying to get it's attention, as it got up I decided that I would show him that it's not that scary, so I walked up to her and shot her in the face which felt really satisfying. But some shots from the shell hit a car just behind her and set off a car alarm... Now I felt stupid and we ran like heck when we saw them, all of them... Just so many.

We ran into a safe room and now here we are waiting for them to move on. Walker seems to know where he's going (even if he vaguely knows what he's doing) so I'll just wait for him to make a call and we'll move on. We'll just run right back into the fire...

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Case Subject: [url=http://www.texasteamplayers.com/index.php?action=profile;u=3694]Ruukil

December 8th, as the phone says.

I heard an explosion close by, so I drove to it. Driving slowly and ducking low I found a large grease stain. There were probably a bunch of zombies there... once upon a time. I pulled to a stop near to it and put the parking brake on. I peeked up and looked around for a few minutes. I shut the car off a wile ago and none of the zombies have noticed me yet. One came very close but it wandered away quickly. I think this car is air tight enough and the zombies are stupid enough for me to be safe in here.

I've been panning he laser pointer around in only places that look not as deserted. I have the feeling someone else is around here... but I've gotten no responses yet. If not, I'm going to go find a radio. I also need gas. I'm on about half a tank and this car isn't exactly a hybrid.

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Case Subject: [url=http://www.texasteamplayers.com/index.php?action=profile;u=3006]Allane

December 8th- Early Evening

Very close by I've heard a very loud screeching creature. I think it's hopping from building to building. And it's been following me for quite a ways. But now, I can't hear it any more at all. The quiet now is only punctuated by the occasional zombie scuffle.

I think something is going on around this area of town. I see signs of people having been through this area. There are dead, sometimes mutilated bodies all around here. After making sure the area around me was free of those infected, I took a closer look at one of the dead bodies. The eyes were milky white, without any pupils at all. The look they had in their eyes was actually very eery, as if the thing was only resting, and not dead. I smacked it a couple of times with my boots to make sure it was dead. All it did was just fall over into a bigger pile of zombies. I don't think they see in a conventional way, they might be relying more on their senses than their eyesight, as you can sneak past them, but if you shine a flashlight on them, they seem to react and come after the source of disturbance.

The cold is starting to get to me now. My fingers ache. I left behind a pair of gloves back at that greenhouse - damn I wish I had those right now. The long December nights are not helping at all either. Traveling in the night has proven to be very dangerous. The noise of the infected seem to grow louder, and they travel in larger groups. Sticking to the alleyways has helped. They tend to pack themselves together in streets, rather than alleyways, and they create a nice funnel should a horde of them see me.

-NOTE-
That screeching creature has been silenced... I think something's happening.

Oh shit, someone just fired off a shotgun and tripped a car alarm. Ground Zero is NOT where I want to be right now. Time to bolt!

-

Ok, I suppose this isn't too bad right now. I was running through the various alleyways when I saw what looked like a red house with a cross painted in the center. I followed the arrow and it led me to a room with a large, steel door. I quickly slid into the room and closed the door. I searched the room and found a long pole to bar the door. Those things don't appear to be smart enough to take the bar out of the door, for which I am very glad.

The room seems to be pretty well stocked. There's food, water, a restroom (which after that car alarm was set off I surely needed to use), and on a table there's a big pile of ammo. I've made the decision to stay here for the rest of the night. There's no point in moving through the city any more now that I've got a safe haven.

I must keep moving though, so I'll grab whatever needs to be refilled, and move out in the morning.

-Al.

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Case Subject: [url=http://www.texasteamplayers.com/index.php?action=profile;u=733]Flea

Today I heard shots fired outside the west side of my building and what sounded like a diesel engine somewhere in the distance. The very chance that there are other survivors near me has spurred me into making my attempt for escape this morning. I mixed the tannerite in my 5 gallon shit bucket and attached the radio receiver and speaker to the outside of it with some duct tape. Tannerite is one part sugar, one part fertilizer and one part aluminum oxide. With my IED in hand I crept up the stairs and peaked out the door. What I saw was horrific.

Near an overturned semi truck there were nearly 200 of those things. They were about 80 meters away and didn't notice my intrusion. I opened the door up enough to chuck the tannerite out but one woman noticed me. She might have been very attractive once, but now, with her shirt torn and her insides hanging out, I could only joke about "eating her out." She looked at me and I swear she said something. The rest of them turned just as I threw the tannerite towards them. I managed to get it about 40 meters (the bitch was heavy) away from me and lined up on it just as they neared it. I fired.

I woke up at the bottom of the stairs with the door above me wide open, which would have been very dangerous had the zombies above me not been shredded like salad. Above the pain of my still ringing ears I swear I heard human voices and the sound of the diesel engine. As I walked up the stairs, a 12 gauge duck gun swung into my view, a little too close. The first words out of my mouth were "shit." This, apparently was convincing enough. As I caught my breath, I focused on the man holding the double barrel on me. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was friggin Cleric, from TTP. Of all the people to run into in a zombie apocalypse, I ran into a good friend. I could see he shared my recognition as he lowered the gun and asked me if I was ok. I told him about Tick and the basement and my homemade tannerite. As he helped me limp towards the truck I saw tractor sitting in the front seat holding a m1 garand between his lap. I knew these guys would come through for me. Family is whose got your back.

As we jumped in the truck and headed for Tick, I couldn't help but notice the zombie bits were all covered in my shit, as I hadn't taken the time to empty my toilet before turning it into a bomb. Fitting I suppose. It will be good to see my brother.

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Case Subject: [url=http://www.texasteamplayers.com/index.php?action=profile;u=2137]Tractorpull

Case File Note: Due to the condition of the following journal, reconstruction of the pages is required. The entries will be added in as they are reconstructed. This will cause them to be off with the Case File chronology.

Dec 3rd

When I first saw what was happening on the news I knew had precious little time. Mom and Dad said they were heading out west and they left early. For once Dad actually listened to me. They should be fine. But I now have myself in a fine mess.

I didn't realize how little I actually have here until I broke all of it out. One of the first things I did was head into Bishop to the outdoors store. Picked up all of my gear, Bedroll, Kimber .45, a M1 SOCOM, a new pair of boots, high band radio, other essentials. The guy asked me how I was paying…….credit card. Visa probably won't even exist once this is all said and done. I hadn't seen or heard of any infected down here at this point. The news people were still baffled, but I saw the videos, I knew what was going on. They started to say to evacuate south but the TV's went dead when the power died. The automated message on the radio still says the same thing.

Kingsville was a ghost town within a few hours. Police came by to make sure everyone was gone. I laid low. I still had work to do. Once the coast was clear of the fuzz I moved all my gear to the county precinct building. They had what I needed.

I swapped out vehicles, getting a Ford F-350 crew truck. It had a double cab with plenty of room, plus it had a Diesel nurse tank in the back already. It was an older model, but perfect for me. I settled down in the precinct office overnight. The broadcast radio was still plugging away saying to evacuate south. I switched on the high band to see if I could pick up any chatter. Nothing. I was all alone here.

Dec 4th Morning

The next day I checked the broadcast radio again. The message had changed in the night. They now said don't go south. Highway 77 was a graveyard below Kingsville. The automated voice now said to head to Naval Station Ingelside, Coast Guard Station Port O'Connor or Coast Guard Station Raymondville. The voice also urged to avoid major cities at all costs. Of all the places to evacuate, the only real choice was Ingelside, and lay just on the other side of Corpus Christi. It would take a little navigation but I could make it. I loaded my gear in the truck, filled up the diesel tanks, plus 2 55 gallon drums for even more fuel. I also filled 2 40 gallon poly drums with clean water. I found a small generator in the shop and hooked it up to the water well, and bam, clean water.

I had Transport, Fuel, Water, and Medicine after raiding an ambulance at the fire station next door. But I was short on food. I would need it before I traveled. I had to hit up the grocery store in Kingsville. I had yet to even see an infected, but that was about to change.

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Case Subject: [url=http://www.texasteamplayers.com/index.php?action=profile;u=3796]33knight33


Lit Assignment: Personal Diary, Topic: Control.
Mr. Geraci
12/08

I keep control by maintaining balance in my mind and body. My daily life shows that:

what a long day today. early school, went to work. had a bit of relaxation with my girl and played a couple rounds of Frisbee and darts with some buds. all about finding the balance right?

gotta remember to pick up that new handgun i just ordered from the local gun shop today... should be a fun little plinking partner to add to my collection... gotta remember to finish that job application so i can quit washing dishes... gotta try and finish up this damn lit assignment (can i say how much i hate meaningless homework in said pointless busywork. its on my personal thoughts right? i mean why would i ever want to keep a journal Mister Geraci?)... gotta quite being such a smart ass to my teachers... gotta find the balance...

damn this pressure is getting to me. gotta find some better ways of blowing off some steam than my normal smoking and shooting and/or my working out/partying combination... i can justify it to myself because its all about that balance... but i know its not healthy for my mind or body... but what is living if i cant find that personal nirvana and be happy? ... am i really happy?

its just so hard... ever since that surgery. saying goodbye to those i had loved and my earned responsibility. dying, did i really die? or did i quit? waking up from death. watching it on video all over again, so that the doctors could learn from it... what could they learn as they will never know... but it made me who i am... gave me insight on things i had been oblivious to before, if dying meant i was no longer just another sheep- then it was worth it... right? how much do i think about this or let it affect my daily actions? or should i move on from it and consider myself one of the chosen lucky ones? or was it just blind luck? or was it just a skilled surgeon? gotta find the balance... gotta find my answers....

gotta get some sleep.

well so much for the line above... some fucking crackhead broke into the house. guy had the balls to go through the window and come straight for me. idiot didn't even try and conceal himself or make off with any of the expensive stuff, just came and tried to beat the damn door down... which he did, i mean i live in an 80 year old house... shit of it was i hadn't been able to get my Mossburg out in time so the douche had the chance to get a hold of me before i was able to kick him back, he luckily tripped over the dumbbell i leave on the floor. must have been high as hell because he struggled on the ground like a turtle on its shell. he started to stand up and lunge at me again. it was obvious there was no dealing with this guy if racking a 12 gauge slide wasn't enough to make him piss his pants or at least back off.

so i shot him. nice blow to the center mass. nuff said. no human lives through a dose of lead from the twelve gauge mag. i go to flip the switch on the lights, stepping over what i knew would be a hell of a mess to clean up and a lot of explaining to the cops, damn i hate paperwork. as i am about to reset my right foot in front of the body, i am quickly grabbed around the calf, i am stunned needless to say and cannot react to what i firmly know is not this guy still alive and dragging me to the ground. i awkwardly fall to where my back is on his chest. the guy starts bludgeoning and digging around with one hand at my sternum. the pain of what i assume to be my sternum re breaking is crippling. i reach back and bring the dumbbell into my grasp. fumbling with it i attempt to strike him with it. as i am raising the dumbbell up he bites me sending a searing pain into the wound in my jugular between my neck and shoulder. he then quickly vomits all over my face. what the fuck, the acidic cringe of what can only be compared to lime juice in my eye causes me to loose my already weak grip on the dumbbell. it comes crashing down over his face.

i roll off of him, well what used to be him. dumb shit shouldn't a come looking for trouble, cause he sure as hell found it- welcome to the thunder dome bitch. knight brings the pain... what the hell am i saying? i got owned, look at me. well you cant dumbass, you cant even stand up to face the mirror... no... don't.... i cant go back... the way things were... i beat this addiction... then i beat the withdrawal... you didn't beat shit man, look at yourself, how you treat others; look at what your hubris bought you. when presented the chance to run you had to try and fight. this guy wasn't playing around...

i drift off into the night... succumbing to the bitter sorrow, giving up on trying to make amends to the hurt i have caused myself....................returning to consciousness or what i perceive to be so i wonder:

speaking of this bonafide badass, who was he? probably some dick i cut off in traffic with anger management. i motion to stand up. realize my injuries aren't as bad as i thought them to be... never were... no one is handicapped unless they cop-out and give up, i sure as hell never did.... then why did they give me a sticker?... gotta find the balance... with the lights on, i let my eyes adjust, but apparently not for long enough, the sight i see is a man whose skin is blacked, but not charred, in appearance... he is missing an arm... his face isn't just bruised from the weight... but completely pulverized, i mean it is just a forty-pound dumbbell...

once i am completely sure i have returned to sobriety, i still cannot believe my eyes... and the taste... i also cannot tell where this taste is coming from, it must be the smell, or.... after recollecting last night i cannot abstain myself from purging. god that is disgusting...

i feel like i have a gallon of adrenaline in my veins, heart beating fast, pupils dilating, i feel like a prizefighter ready to fuck up the next person who comes through my door... in duality... i know i am utterly exhausted to the bone, with all surpluses of manna tapped from my body, i am running on empty, its almost as if i can feel my body depleting itself for its own ironic nourishment... gotta find the balance...

...though, i have been here before. those weeks in the ICU. the hourly shots of morphine and pills of Oxycontin, being withheld to a bedpan and not even being able to wipe my own ass. the sense of anger at my own feelings of despair and sorrow. the instinctive shadow of my mind condemning the coddling thoughts of self pity... gotta find the balance...

i snap out of the trance. i realize those times are behind me. i realize i am clearly not on relapse and simply to to get some rest to shake off this hypnosis... though i can still feel, without knowing, the urge of seeking action. of hitting the streets to fuck up the next person i see, just like this guy almost did too me... no i wouldn't fail like he did... i knew i had to satisfy these primal cravings, or else loose myself, my true and happy identity that is, forever...

but this was all, just disorientated rambling, i needed to sleep. get a good nights rest then i would worry about deciding who i really was. i didn't even care about the guy in the floor. he could show himself the door. i was down for the count.

that night i return to my new self. unconsciously my mind begins to embrace the change my body has already irrevocably sustained. my mind begins vividly depicting and fantasying the indulgences my body will soon have.


i Have The Bloodlust.
i Lost The Balance.
Without It, i Cannot Abstain.
Without It, i Shall Slaughter.


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End Case File Entry

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