29 October 2011

The Last Job - Part 1

The hum of conversations and the chattering of rolling suitcases greeted Jason Hall as he stepped into the terminal at Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport. Over the public address system the flight attendant announced to the waiting passengers that the next scheduled flight would be leaving in roughly one hour. His stomach rumbled with hunger. Jason strolled toward the terminal entrance, glancing at the restaurants in the concourse. Spying a sandwich vendor he strode over to order. He pulled out his wallet, which he discovered was empty. He reached into the pocket of his khaki pants to find three dollars, not enough money for a sandwich.

“Umm, one croissant and a water, please.” Jason continued to the terminal entrance after thanking the vendor. He gazed at the snaking security line full of people waiting to be checked, his steely grey eyes darting between individuals in the crowd, studying their interactions.

One man near his side of the queue caught his eye. He was a middle aged man, somewhere in his mid-forties, with short black hair beginning to grey along the temples, which blended into the jet black hair on top. He was engrossed in a heated debate with another man next to him in line, flailing his arms wildly to drive home his points.

Jason decided the man was the one. His heart rate picked up as he picked his way across the walkway towards the man’s point in the queue. Jason fell. He grabbed at the man to recover, his left hand reaching the man’s belt. After Jason fell, the man turned around, irritated at being interrupted mid-argument, and offered a hand to help him up. Jason grabbed the man’s hand and wrist to pull himself up, noticing the silver watch on the man’s wrist. He thanked the man, grabbed his carry-on, and walked away, pocketing the silver wristwatch and leather wallet as he turned the corner.

Jason reached into his sweatshirt pocket and pulled out his phone scrolling through his contacts until he reached Richard Michaels, a friend of his since college. When he brought the phone to his ear an automated voice spoke. “Please enjoy this music while your party is reached,” the woman’s voice intoned before the first beats of Chingy’s “Right Thurr” assaulted Jason’s eardrums. He held the phone away from his ear while he waited for Richard to pick up.
 
“Hello?” a deeper voice on the other end said.

“Rich, you know it’s me. I’m at the airport. Come pick me up.”
 
“Really, man? I just took Priscilla back to her apartment. Why couldn’t you have called then?” Richard said.
 
“Because the plane just pulled up to the gate,” Jason lied as he approached baggage check, “and besides, I don’t have a beast of a car like yours, remember?” Actually, Jason didn’t own a car. The only means of transportation he possessed were a moped and a beat-up, rusting Schwinn Varsity road bike.
 
“Screw you. That car’s been through a lot. It’s probably the most reliable thing I know.” Richard defended his blue 1972 Mini.
 
“Whatever. Come pick me up. I’m at Louis Armstrong again.” Jason hung up, knowing Richard would be late out of spite.

Half an hour later, a blue, rusted out Mini sped around the corner, screeching to a halt outside the airport doors, sunlight glinting off of the Mini crest on the hood, the only shiny part of the car left. Inside, Richard lay on the horn, which sounded more like a duck call compared to the other cars crowding the unloading area. Jason turned his back, pretending he didn’t see Richard pull up, causing Richard to shoot off a few more horn blasts, drawing angry looks from the other travelers outside the airport.
 
“Get over here!” Richard shouted out the driver’s side window at Jason.
 
“Alright, alright, I’m just messing with you.” Jason rounded the car and got in.
 
The Mini sputtered slightly as Richard put it into gear. Fifteen minutes later the car crossed a stone bridge over a creek and stopped in front of a stucco apartment building.
 
“Come on up and have a beer,” Jason told Richard. “You’re done with work for today anyway, right?”
 
“Yeah. Let me go park.”
 
Jason walked up to the green door and turned his key in the lock. He smiled as he walked into the building’s courtyard, decorated by lush foliage and a blue-tiled fountain that trickled into the waist-high basin. A breeze rolled through the courtyard tousling his light brown hair as he climbed the stairs to the third floor, where his flat was situated. He turned to see if Richard was behind him, then opened his door.
 
The two entered the apartment, a small, cozy place with a balcony overlooking the creek and the walk alongside it. Jason went immediately for the refrigerator to grab the beer while Richard flopped down on the futon Jason used for a couch, turning on the television. He immediately started flicking through the channels. He stopped on a soccer match, for lack of anything better to watch.
 
Jason sat next to Richard and handed him his beer. “Look what I got today, Rich.” he He tossed the wallet and watch on the coffee table.

“Where did you get this?” Richard said, examining the watch.
 
“Where do you think?”Jason smirked, rubbing the two day growth on his chin. “I got it from a guy at the airport. He was generous enough to part with them after helping me up when I tripped.”
 
“Why do you do this shit, Jason?” Richard asked. “One of these days you’re going to get caught.”
 
Jason met Richard’s eyes. “I don’t know why I keep doing it, Rich.” He swallowed hard, pausing to gather his thoughts. “I guess I really enjoy the rush it gives me.” Jason shrugged. “I want to live a normal life, but I just keep coming back to that rush, that excitement. I am afraid I’ll get caught, but for whatever reason even that risk isn’t enough to stop me.”
 
Richard looked concerned. He knew the next words to come out of Jason’s mouth. They would be about his job, door-to-door sales. Richard was the case for Jason’s jobs. When he was invited inside to sell the alarm system for the security company he worked for, Richard would give the house a once-over. He would note all entrances and exits, whether the owners had animals, any security issues, and what valuables the owners had. He would then give a recommendation to Jason on which house to hit.
 
“So, Rich, where’s the job this week?” Jason. Jason looked expectantly at Richard.

Richard looked away. “There isn’t one. Jason, I don’t want to do this anymore. Can’t we just be done? It’s not like another job is going to make a difference in anything.”
 
“Rich, we agreed this would be your last job anyway. Why do you want to chicken out of this one?”
“I don’t know.” Richard looked at the beer he held in his lap. “We never gained much from this anyway. It was a stupid idea in college to get money, and that’s all it will ever be.”
 
“Well, it may have been a stupid idea in college, but we’re still doing it, aren’t we?” Jason said. “Besides, we agreed on this a while ago. You would do this last one when I got back from my latest courier job, and that would be the end. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”
 
With a look of frustration, Richard finally met Jason’s gaze and briefed him. “In the suburbs. A low-key wealthy home. I imagine there’s a safe somewhere in the house, though I’m not sure. They have a cat, but that shouldn’t be a problem. The access points on the ground floor are the front and back doors, the picture window in the kitchen, three windows in the study, and another two in the dining/living area. There are three windows to the master bedroom over the study and another two in the bedroom over the dining/living area. I estimate the couple is in their mid-fifties, but the man looks strong for his age, so be careful.”
 
“How tough did the lock look? Were there locks on the windows?” Richard could see the gears turning in Jason’s head.

“I did see locks on the windows and the door locks looked pretty secure. I doubt they have locks on the upstairs windows, though.”
 
“OK, I guess I’ll have to get in through the second story, then. I would rather not have to pick the doors if I can avoid it,” Jason said. “I’ll meet you at your place Friday around ten?”
 
“Yeah, the door’ll be unlocked,” Richard said. Richard rose then headed to the door. “And another thing, Priscilla can’t know what we’re doing. Dress as if we’re going to the bar or something,” Richard said then walked out the door.

26 October 2011

The Clean Room


“What are you doing here?” a muffled voice said. A man in a white clean suit and a respirator stepped from behind one of four slender, chrome rectangles evenly spaced in the white room. “You’re going to contaminate the experiment.” A low buzz started in the background. The man in the suit waved his arms over his head and ran to the center of the square formed by the monolithic pillars. “No, No! Not yet! It isn’t ready!” he yelled up at the ceiling.

The pillars rose from the floor and slowly rotated around the man, increasing in speed until lightning arced from their surfaces. “Shut it down! Shut it down!” The man’s voice was now desperate.  “You have to help me,” he said, turning to face me. “Behind you is the interior control panel. Hit the yellow switch. Hurry!”

I turned around to a blank white wall. I could scarcely make out a thin grey line where the control panel was hidden. I pressed the panel.  The panel hissed as it lifted from the wall and slid back to the left. As I reached for the switch I heard a yell and a loud crack and thunder. I turned back around to see a grey cloud where the man had stood. The pillars slowly returned to their original positions and the ceiling turned a faint green.

“Matter transfer procedure completed.” a female voice said.  The ceiling turned bright red. “Unauthorized personnel detected. Facility cleanse initiating…”

09 October 2011

Salvation


It's come. It's finally come! We're getting out of here! The military finally heard our S.O.S. transmissions after all this time. They're coming to evacuate any remaining survivors in front of Northrup Auditorium at 1400 before they cleanse the area. If you can make it there, get there. Otherwise you will be left behind.

Current count: 185 Healthy | 201 Infected

08 October 2011

Dead Silence


The campus is uncomfortably calm today. The number of infected has risen significantly from botched missions the authorities insisted would help stop the overwhelming tide. The few remaining survivors have been forced to run small, stealthy patrols through campus as they run low on supplies. Friday night was one such mission.

We met at McDonald's, strangely one of the safer locations in the area, and ventured into campus. Everything went smoothly while we ventured to Comstock Hall to link up with David before continuing. We continued on toward the Superblock where we encountered our first infected on the patrol. He has gunned down by four of our team before we continued on to Scholars' Walk. Here we met up with a lone survivor walking toward the Mall Area.

Reports had come in earlier in the day of large groups of infected roaming the Mall Area and as a precautionary measure our team decided to survey the area from the roof of Tate Laboratory. When we reached the front doors we checked the area from the top of the steps, where we observed a survivor wandering past Walter Library. David sprinted from our position to bring him to safety when we spotted some infected. We bolted inside, leaving David and the other survivor to fend for themselves, and one of the infected raised its head and howled, signaling others to our position. We had to move.

Other infected heard the howl and joined in, calling more to the building. The howling set an eerie soundtrack to our flight up the stairs. We scrambled onto the roof and watched in horror as the horde surrounded the building. Two unlucky souls ran into a horde on Northrup Plaza. They fired desperately at the oncoming infected but were overwhelmed and destroyed. Meanwhile the pounding against the doors of Tate Lab reached a thunderous roar. Glass shattered. They were inside.

We crept back inside and down a flight of stairs to the elevator. We could hear the infected on the floors below us, searching. They started up the stairs right as Patrick reached the elevator and the door closed. The elevator was crammed full, our weapons aimed at the door in case they were waiting for us at the bottom. Upon reaching the basement we discovered that it was empty. We could still hear the footsteps of the infected above us and in the adjacent corridors. Silently we searched for a safe exit.

An opportunity presented itself in the tunnel network that criss-crosses campus. We followed the signs toward Murphy Hall, keeping strict silence due to the infected roaming the basement. We reached Ford Hall and determined the exit was clear. David and I split from the group to return to Comstock Hall and reached safety shortly thereafter.

It may be quiet out there, survivors, but remain vigilant. The horde will be back, and in greater numbers.

Current Count as of 1700: 187 Healthy | 198 Infected

07 October 2011

And Then There Were Two

Each mission brings the survivors closer to salvation, but at the same time the threat of annihilation grows. Our numbers fall each passing day while the infected tide never seems to end. Tonight was the first real sign of hope for resistance. A vaccine had been found for infection, though only a sample had been obtained. The rest was stashed at the Armory. The survivors gathered on the side of Pleasant Street to organize a mission to retrieve the remainder. They didn't know what the were up against.

As the mission proceeded down Pleasant Street wandering infected were drawn to the patrol. By the time the survivors reached Johnston Hall a horde had presented itself across the road. The groaning and howling of the infected unnerved the survivors, but they held strong. They had survived the Knoll Massacre and were determined to survive this night. A few of the infected jumped from the bushes but were cut down by the survivors' withering fire.

The horde shadowed the patrol until it had reached Nicholson Hall, where the onslaught began. 2nd Squad faced the brunt of the attack, losing the majority of the squad to a rear assault, including HAVOC member David, who managed to capture the patrol via head cam. Xavier and a few other survivors escaped the melee but became disoriented in an attempt to return home. They were brought down by roving infected.



Upon reaching the Armory the vaccine was revealed to only contain enough doses to cure two. The group argued over who would receive the vaccine. David hobbled up to the group having been freshly bitten, but he did not yet display the infection's symptoms. It was decided that he would be the first recipient of the vaccine, and the other would be decided via triage of captured infected and those bitten that night.

The resistance scattered following the vaccine's retrieval. The number of infected wandering campus is dangerously high and the survivors used the valuable time the infected were distracted feeding to return to shelter. Unfortunately during this scramble many were brought down by small groups of infected, usually within tragically short distances of safety.

Survivors, we have lost many in the horrific violence visiting our campus this week. Many of our closest friends and neighbors have been killed before our very eyes, but even as our ranks shrink this is no time to give up. We owe it to the fallen to survive. We must live to tell their story. Make no mistake; we will triumph.

Current count as of 0315: 215 Healthy | 171 Infected

06 October 2011

Blockade Running


Infected. Infected everywhere. The number seems to grow by the second. I glanced out the side window to check the situation before I stepping outside our shelter. There must have been at least five. This may seem low, but previous encountered have proven them to be very fast. Fast enough they'll chase almost anyone down, given the chance. I wasn't about to let that happen. I'm going to make it through this!

I quickly realized that I was going to have get out of there by some other means. I searched the building and found no conventional exit through which I could leave, so I improvised. I managed to make it all the way to Coffman Memorial Union, though I don't know how. There were zombies all around Comstock Hall. They must have been attracted by the lights and sounds left on by its residents before the infection hit.

I climbed to the first floor of Coffman Memorial Union and checked dozens of windows to make sure there weren't any infected lurking around the pillars on the front steps and made my dash to Kolthoff Hall. Thankfully no infected saw me as I crossed the footbridge over Washington Avenue into the Mall Area, a known hot spot for attacks.

To those of you brave survivors at tonight's mission, I wish you the best of luck. I regret that I will not be able to join you in the noble endeavor you have embarked on, but I will be following your every move from HAVOC headquarters. May your sights be true and may you kill many infected.

Answer to Infection?


The third day dawned, the air thick with the smell of rotting flesh. Burial parties set out to burn the corpses from the previous day's slaughter, but returned, reporting that the corpses have disappeared. The number of infected is higher than initially estimated at the end of last night. Since the initial headcounts were taken after the action seen last night at least twenty more survivors have fallen.

Tonight is the first step toward ending all of this. Formation will be held at 1900 on the rear ramp of the Science Teaching and Student Services building. We will attempt to piece together and find a cure to this infection.

There is hope, survivors.

Current count as of 1630: 257 Healthy | 128 Infected

05 October 2011

Massacre at the Knoll


The survivors arrived at the staging area set in the courtyard behind Lind Hall. Unease hung heavy in the crowd. Most if not every person present had watched one of their friends succumb to infection, maybe even had to kill them. Still they gathered, despite the hordes wandering campus. A distress beacon was picked up by authorities and its location placed it near the Knoll Area. The gathered survivors were tasked with recovering and investigating the beacon in force, and formed up five abreast before the mission.

Coming across Church Street on Scholars' Walk, the militia encountered substantial numbers of infected and continued across to Vincent, where many survivors' nerves took over.

Cries rang out from the rear of the formation as a mob of infected charged.

"Oh my God, zombies! Fucking run!"

"Bail! Bail!"

Panic took over as the infected slammed into the survivors. No shots were fired as survivor after survivor fled the melee only to be chased down and mauled by other, more scattered infected. Those who hadn't given in to hysteria pushed forward and regrouped in the middle of the Mall Area on Scholars' Walk. The survivors pressed onward to Pleasant Street where again they were charged from behind, forcing a small run toward the objective, but the survivors were successful in repelling the attack.

With the objective in sight, the survivors crossed Pleasant Street and funneled into the narrow corridor between  Scott and Elliot Halls, where a horde lurked among the gardens. When the survivors were twenty feet from the beacon the horde charged from the left, causing a panic that forced HAVOC member Ryan out of formation where he was eviscerated while the rest of the survivors fought the onslaught. The slaughter continued until finally the survivors gained the upper hand when a man fired into the brutal combat, assisting the recovery mission.

The man brandished a chart of infection data and explained that he had been monitoring the infection. Hopefully, he explained, we could use this data to pinpoint the source of the infection and possibly develop a vaccine or cure.

Though the mission was successful the victory was bittersweet. The knowledge that has been obtained has come at a steep price. Many survivors were violently and swiftly cut down, severely diminishing our collective ability to outlast and survive the infection. I can only hope those remaining have what it takes to make it to the end, because we're going to need all the help we can get.

Many of the dead and missing have not yet been accounted for, and we'll most likely see the damage done at first light tomorrow. The count as of 2250 is as follows:

284 Healthy | 101 Estimated infected

Godspeed, survivors.

A Bloody Day


The siren blared as three members of HAVOC stepped outside into the afternoon heat. Coming down the steps all three of their heads turned rapidly back and forth. The number of survivors has been rapidly declining as the infection spreads like wildfire across campus. We had not seen our network correspondent, Matt, all day and though we were worried for him, we must move on about our business. The three set off toward Coffman and into the infected zone.

Later on that afternoon we received a transmission from a dying Matt. He recounted his grisly attack. Had just crossed the Washington Avenue bridge, alone, when he spotted two infected. They stared each other down until they were distracted by another survivor hoping to sneak by them unnoticed. Matt made a break for it while the poor sucker was pursued by the infected, but he failed to spot the third lurker outside the Weisman Art Museum and was slammed against the wall before being mauled. We comforted him as best we could over the airwaves listening to his slow, painful transition to infection, as his speech slowly turned to coughs and groaning.

We lost two members today, bringing our number ever lower to four. Stay strong, survivors. We will get through this.

Current count as of 1830 hours: 304 healthy, estimated 79 infected.

Ripped Down

Another has fallen. Alex reported to us he was leaving Lind Hall shortly. The few team members gathered around to listen to our comrade on his way home. Suddenly we heard a shout and the radio crackled and cut to static as it slammed onto the sidewalk. Our best guess is that a lurking infected surprised him leaving the hall through one of the basement stairwells.


HAVOC remains resolute in this ongoing crisis. The tragedy that befell our solitary comrade will not happen again. We will beat this. We will outlast this. We will survive this.

Current count as of 1050 hours: 338 healthy, estimated 36 infected.

Stay frosty, survivors.


DRAFTED

The rumors of a cure were unfounded. Those of us who turned out at the supposed distribution site were surprised to hear that we have been drafted by the university for a sweep and clear mission in attempt to cut down the number of infected on campus. Our mission went off without a hitch, with the survivors separating into four squads to sweep from Folwell Hall to Coffman Memorial Union.

HAVOC took command of Bravo Squad, our ranks bolstered by volunteers from our building, and our route took us along Pleasant Street into the Mall Area from one of the west paths. We encountered very few infected until the squad reached the Washington Avenue crossing, where we crossed paths with at least four infected. It was here that fire teams one and two sighted Alpha Squad and fled for the safety of the quarantine zone, leaving fire team three to bring up the rear, menaced by ramblers.

All in all the mission can be deemed a success. Out of four squads of about sixteen each we lost around three people total, one succumbing to madness and deserting the ranks to be mauled by the infected. Here is some helmet cam footage captured of Bravo Squad's patrol:


After the mission, however, HAVOC's fellow survivors were ambushed with Comstock's entrance beckoning for safety. The members of HAVOC made it to safety while the infected from the ambush were either feeding or quickly dispatched on the way through. Back in safety we listen to the resistance frequency to find out what has become of our friends. The toll for the first day: 341 of 369 healthy remain; 28 infected and counting.

If you've made it through alive tonight, thank your lucky stars. It's only going to get worse. If you have to venture into the infected zone do not leave home without protection. Watch your backs, survivors.

04 October 2011

Squad -1


This morning one of HAVOC's members was the unfortunate victim of a surprise attack by one of the infected. Leaving Coffman Memorial Union she forgot to check the staircase that merges with the sidewalk and was caught off-guard. Back in the shelter the members of HAVOC crowded around the radio as we listened to the struggle: screams mixed with guttural roars as the zombie tore into her.

We will miss you, Amy, and your death will not go unavenged. HAVOC may be down one member, but we're sure as hell not out. Stay strong, survivors; there is hope. Rumors of a possible cure to infection located in Folwell Hall have been heard. Rendezvous will be at 1900 sharp. We'll see you there.


03 October 2011

The End is Extremely Fucking Nigh

The rumors that have been spreading through the student population at the University of Minnesota have been proven true. Tonight two of the erratic individuals lashed out at a student who had been trying to help them. The individuals bit the student multiple times and following the attack he went to friends for help. The students quickly realized what had happened and a resistance was formed to combat the infection. There has never before been an outpouring of community in the name of mutual protection in the student body. Almost every member of the resistance turned out with some weapon or another.



The night began with a rousing cheer from the survivors just prior to the crowd scattering. Rumor has it an infected individual was spotted in the crowd. Later that night a group of survivors had established a quarantine checkpoint across Washington Avenue, but their noble efforts to protect those in the residence halls beyond were thwarted in a lapse of situational awareness that resulted in the entire post's infection. Still other groups continue to patrol campus in an effort to cut down on the number of infected.

The Human Alliance for Victory of Comstock, otherwise known as HAVOC, is hunkered down on this dangerous night. We're a small group of friends who have banded together for mutual protection, determined to outlast the infection by any means necessary. All the members have made it to safety tonight, though as the number of infected grows that number is sure to dwindle.

To all of you survivors out there: keep your head on a swivel, check your corners, and stay alive. We'll see you on the other side.

02 October 2011

Rumors of Infection

Individuals have been observed displaying erratic and aggressive behavior near the University of Minnesota campus. No dangerous events have been reported; however, students have been warned to avoid these individuals and if necessary carry some form of protection at all times. There have been no statements yet from health services and the Centers for Disease Control about this unusual occurrence. Rumors have been flying through the student population that these individuals are infected with some disease. The timing couldn't have been more of a coincidence with the Zombie Pub Crawl scheduled for next weekend.