by Ami Urban
CLASSIFIED
OFFICE OF STRATEGIC SERVICES
WASHINGTON, D.C.
FBI WASHINGTON
7-81-47
URGENT
AT APPROXIMATELY 16:00, THIS OFFICE RECEIVED A TELEPHONIC COMMUNICATION THAT TWO JOURNALS WERE RE COVERED NEAR JOHNSON VILLAGE, COLORADO FOLLOWING INCIDENT [REDACTED].
JOURNAL NO. 1 CONTAINS APPROXIMATELY TWO-HUNDRED PAGES AND IS LEATHER-BOUND. SOURCE IS A CAUCASIAN MALE: JACK REYNOLDS, AUTOMOTIVE MECHANIC, THIRTY-FOUR YEARS OF AGE.
JOURNAL NO. 2 CONTAINS APPROXIMATELY TWO-HUNDRED PAGES AND IS HARD-BOUND IN RED. SOURCE IS A CAUCASIAN FEMALE: LISA JAMES, DOCTOR OF MEDICINE, THIRTY-TWO YEARS OF AGE; OFFSPRING: REX JAMES, FOUR YEARS OF AGE, DIAGNOSED AUTISTIC.
JOURNALS BEING TRANSPORTED TO [REDACTED] FOR EXAMINATION. ATTACHED DOCUMENTS ARE CLASSIFIED SECRET. NO FURTHER INVESTIGATION BEING CONDUCTED.
END
ASSOCIATED DOCUMENTS
-TWO (2) JOURNALS, APPROXIMATELY 77,000 TOTAL WORDS IN LENGTH
-INVESTIGATIVE ELEMENTS OF WORLDWIDE RHABDOVIRUS EPIDEMIC
-POSSIBLE WHEREABOUTS OF J. REYNOLDS AND L. JAMES
Department of Defense
Narrative Summaries of Incident 10052042
Ongoing
Attached are unclassified summaries describing the circumstances surrounding 5.5 billion incidents involving a medical emergency or epidemic.
These summaries have been released to the public and were prepared as journal entries following the [REDACTED] outbreak. These journals were found near [REDACTED] where patient zero was held (see figure "1.2"). Summaries include excerpts of the [REDACTED] outbreak from two survivors whose whereabouts remain unknown.
The Department of Defense urges the public to complete the report for the purpose of safety precautions in lieu of a second medical epidemic.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
The Department of Defense would like to acknowledge the following individuals for their support in creating and funding this report.
Mr. Matthew Surprenant - Supervising Editor
Mrs. Mary Urbanske - Secretary of Readers
Mr. Jimmy Franks - Singer and Songwriter for The Bloodhound Gang
In memoriam of Miss Alexandra (Lexi) Brown for her continued dedication and support of this and many other projects.
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[Begin summary]
From the Desk of Dr. Lisa James
October 16
My son was too busy looking out the car window and watching the fiery-colored trees sweep by to notice anything was wrong.
I looked at the blood stain on my blue scrubs. I needed a distraction, so I turned my attention back to the road. I'd left the hospital immediately after an infected patient had bitten the surgeon. They were moving closer and closer.
I hit the Seek button on my radio again, watching it fly through the channels, trying to find a station broadcasting anything. But all I got was static and one classical music station. Up until about an hour prior, there were still a few news DJ's talking about the outbreak.
Just last week, Rex's father had been bitten when he was trying to get to my house. He came to the door, scratching the bite wound on his forearm. It was already starting to become red and swollen. After two days, he became extremely thirsty, but the muscle spasms in his throat caused him to fear any water I offered. The day before, he'd turned.
I winced at the sudden twinge of pain that tore through my ribs. My body had been slammed into the dresser when I'd tried to save my son from his rabid father. I'd fought him a little, but he was stronger. So, I did the only thing I could think of doing; I grabbed a nearby vase and smashed it over his head. He was dead.
But I didn't murder the father of my child. I killed one of them.
On the right, a McDonald's was coming up fast. I was feeling hungry, but I knew there'd be no one there. I'd probably never eat a Big Mac again. The golden arches swept by and Rex started to whine.
"Hungry!" he said, pointing out the window.
"I'm sorry, Rex, we can't stop. Not now."
He sniffed and whined louder. "Please, momma?"
"No. I told you we can't stop until we get to Aunt Sylvia's."
"But, momma! Hungry!" I could hear the tears in his voice and adrenaline pumped into my veins. I'd never be able to offer him his favorite fast food again. His childhood was taken away from him and he didn't understand why.
"I'm sorry, Rex, I'm sorry." I felt tears threatening to escape my own eyes. "But we can have ice cream when we get to Aunt Sylvia's, okay? Would you like some ice cream?"
His little round face scrunched, trying to decipher my tone. "Okay, momma."
At least I'd diffused one stressful situation. I turned back around to face the road just as another presented itself. The silhouette of a male was lumbering across the asphalt about a mile in front of us. I pressed down on the gas, watching the speedometer crawl up past seventy. The car"s engine whined. Rex began to fidget.
"Momma? Fast!"
"Everything will be okay, Rex. Just close your eyes."
"No, momma! Slow!"
The infected victim was inching closer. I could see it turn to look at the car. It started to lumber toward us, dragging its feet and pulling at its hair. The speedometer went up to eighty. It was closer.
"Slow down, momma!"
I sniffed. The infected were not going to ruin my son"s life. They were not going to steal his childhood away. Eighty-five miles an hour. I could see the foam dripping from its chin.
"Momma! don't hit!"
Instinctively, my foot slammed down hard on the brake. The car swerved onto the opposite side of the empty road, narrowly missing the diseased thing that was once a human being. It dragged itself near the car. I could hear it gurgle and groan. When it started hitting its fists against Rex's window, my son scooted away, but didn't look up.
"what's wrong with him, momma?"
"That man is very sick."
"Help?"
"No, Rex," I said. "There's no helping him."
The thing was sliding its way toward the passenger window now. It clawed at the glass, trying to get inside. I turned the key in the ignition; my car had stalled when we'd skidded. It clicked, but the engine didn't turn over. I'd been meaning to take it into the shop to get it looked at, but things were crazy at work, and I'd never had a chance. I'd never have a chance again, either. And it was just too coincidental that it decided to die on me then.
"Start!" I slammed my fists into the wheel. The thing pounded harder at the window. If only I were a doctor of cars and not medicine.
"Momma."
I'm sure Rex felt my fear and frustration. He was succumbing to sensory overload and I couldn't do a damn thing to help him.
As he started to whine, the thing outside slipped back to his window, scratching at the rubber frame and tearing the nails from its fingers. Blood streaked across the glass. Rex's face was turning purple. The engine still wouldn't start. My heart pumped harder.
"Stop it now, Rex. Be quiet, please."
"Start the car, momma! Go!"
"I'm trying."
"Please, momma! Go fast. No slow!"
"I'm trying, Rex."
The key turned and the engine roared to life. I stepped hard on the gas, nearly fish-tailing. The back end of the car hit the thing as we started to drive, knocking him onto the road where he howled. That was the first time I'd ever heard one of them howl. It was such a sad sound.
"Rex tried to stop crying. He tried so hard to be quiet and still the rest of the trip. He was so well-behaved. My chest grew tight. I hand't meant to scare him.
After only thirty more minutes, we pulled off the highway and into my best friend"s hometown. She lived in a town called Soledad right off the 101. Her st
reet was entirely deserted. There weren't even any of those things around. I was certain the outbreak had reached her.
I pulled into Sylvia's driveway. After I'd shut the engine off, I sat there and realized I had no plan. What was I going to do if I got out and one of those things came out of nowhere? The car was enveloped in silence.
"Momma...?"
I jumped. Looking in the review mirror, I smiled weakly at my son. He looked so frail and small with his hands tucked under his chin.
"Lisa!"
When I heard my name, I snapped my gaze around. Sylvia was standing on her front porch, waving for me to come inside. Without another minute"s hesitation, I jumped out, rounding the back and unbuckling my son from his seat.
"Lisa, hurry!" Sylvia called.
I hefted Rex into my arms. He begged me to let him down so he could walk on his own, but I refused. I wasn't going to let him run off. I reached Sylvia and she ushered us quickly into the house. Then, she spun around to bolt the door shut.
Leaning down, she patted Rex's head. "Hey, Kid. How about some ice cream, yeah?"
He bobbed his head.
"Lexi's having some right now. Go get her; she's in the kitchen."
Rex hobbled off toward where Sylvia had pointed. I started to go after him, but she put a hand on my arm.
"where's Chase?" she asked, referring to his father.
I swallowed. "he's dead."
At first, her eyes welled with an emotion I couldn't recognize. It looked like guilt, but felt like panic. But then, she nodded. "I'm sorry, Lisa."
"it's fine."
The panic subsided into a look I knew well. She was frustrated at my lack of empathy. She sighed. "Did you hear any news?"
"Not a thing." I shook my head. "All the radio stations are down as of an hour ago."
"that's what I thought. Last I heard it had spread as far as you guys. I was so scared that you'd been...infected."
"Why aren't there any here?" I allowed her to lead me into the kitchen. Rex was already munching on some vanilla ice cream with Sylvia's twelve-year-old, Alex. I ran my fingers through his fine, dark hair.
"Dunno. They said it hasn't come this far yet. But I saw some people heading down the street this morning. They told me they were moving out of the apartments downtown because they were afraid it was coming. I don't know what they thought they were gonna do this way."
I stayed silent. It was all I could do.
"Momma, guess what?"
Surprised, I looked down at my son, ice-cream dripping from his chin and covering his hands. Sylvia moved away to get me a damp cloth. "Yes?"
"Lex got a new doll for her birthday and I gonna play with it!"
"Oh?" I glanced over at Alex. He still wasn't able to say her name right.
"Yeah. it's just a teddy bear, but some of its stuffing is coming out of its head," Alex said.
"I think it reminds her of one of them." Sylvia swept over to wipe the ice-cream from Rex's mouth and hands. I took it from her. It was my job to take care of him.
"Can I have now, momma? I want play." He watched me with dark eyes. Those were the eyes of his father. I ruffled his hair as I stood.
"Yes." I handed the towel back to Sylvia.
The two of them ran off up the stairs while my best friend and I stayed behind in the kitchen. Tiny footsteps echoed from the hallway until they could be heard overhead before coming to a silent stop.
"So, you haven't seen any of them?"
Sylvia shook her head. "Only on the news reports. But they stopped broadcasting yesterday. it's still spreading, isn't it, Lisa?"
I nodded. "Yes."
She looked me up and down. "You need to change out of those scrubs."
"I agree."
"What are we gonna do?"
"Before the broadcasts went down, did you hear something about a place called Braycart City?"
She shook her head.
"it's supposedly a sanctuary for people who aren't infected. There is a doctor there who's trying to develop a vaccine. We can go there."
"Where is it?" Sylvia wondered.
"it's in a town called Johnson Village, Colorado."
"Jesus." She hugged her arms around herself.
"We should get going pretty soon, Sylvia. Who knows how long it'll be before they come here."
October 16
"Red.
All I saw was red as I tried hard to move my weakened legs. I could barely push myself forward and those things were gaining on me. Damn Biters. If I'd had a gun...
Wait...I did have a gun. My boss Silas had given me his sawed-off shotgun so I could protect the house.
I had the gun somewhere... But I wasn't able to find it in time. A Biter lunged at me with a bitter howl. I dodged it, slamming into a wall. My shoulder ached. I didn't even know where I was.
Another Biter was hot on my trail. It could smell me. As soon as it was aware of my presence, it came toward me. Of course I was frozen with fear. Fantastic. I was going to die and I hand't been laid in six years...
A hollow bang bit into my eardrum. Someone had fired a shot straight through the Biter's head. It went down in a convulsion of blood and foam. And at the sound of the second bang, I was startled awake. I'd been asleep on my boss"s couch the entire time.
Thank God. Or whatever.
I slowly rolled to sit upright. The pain in my shoulder was almost knocking me out again. I felt like I'd been hit by a bus, so I rubbed my hands over my face.
Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. Those were the angry Silas footsteps. He was steamed. I couldn't blame him. I'd fallen asleep on watch again.
As I stood " my bones creaking the whole way " I yawned and grabbed the shotgun from the side table.
"Yeah, I know. I know." The kitchen was still dark. I rolled my shoulders to ease some of the tension in my neck. "I fell asleep again. I told you I couldn't"
My sentence stopped dead " no pun intended. My best friend was stomping down the hallway. Only he wasn't my best friend anymore. He was a Biter. Thick foam dripped from his mouth. His steps were heavy and uneven. He looked like a ghost.
"Balls."
Silas stretched out his arms. He was inches from me. I could almost feel the cold grip of his fingers. And that's when I pulled the trigger.
The blast almost turned me deaf. It was the loudest thing I'd ever heard. But my aim was on point, because there was now a decent-sized hole in my best friend"s chest.
"But that wasn't the shitty part. Nope. The shitty part was when he started to die. Because he grabbed his chest, stared at his bloody hand for a second, then fell against the wall. He looked up at me with eyes that were still alive.
"Why...?" His voice came with a few of those "death gurgles."
"What...?"
"It was...a prank...bro..."
"The fuck?" I knelt beside him. For some reason, I thought trying to push the blood back into his chest with both hands would do something. But before I could even figure out another course of action, the life drained from his eyes. For a moment, I just sat there and stared at him, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Then I got mad.
"What the fuck, Silas? You think this is a motherfucking game? You can't play pranks on me you...! Jesus fucking Christ, man!" I could feel the burn of tears behind my eyes, but they wouldn't come.
No ideas of a next step came to me. My thoughts were racing at a thousand miles an hour. Should I call the police? Hospital? What was the emergency number again? Jesus Christ. Should I bury him?
Feeling around in my pockets, I found my cell phone. Then I punched in the numbers 9-1-1. A beep rang in my ear.
"we're sorry, the number you have called cannot be completed as dialed. Please hang up and try your call again."
I pulled the phone away, hung up and tried again. But again, I received the same message.
"we're sorry, the number you have called cannot be completed as dialed. Please hang up and try your call again."
The phone lines
were down. All of them. Not even the landline worked. Well... At least I wouldn't go to jail.
I was just about to sit down and think about putting the shotgun in my mouth when I heard something outside. Out the window, I could see across the street to the neighbor"s house. There was an old car in the driveway and a woman was hunched over the open hood. That ass, man. Damn.
"Well, since I'm a mechanic...I might as well help some booty. Body! Somebody." Gutter mind could never be cured.
I took one last look at my poor friend and headed for the door. But when I passed the giant mirror, I noticed blood all over me. There were droplets on my shirt and even my face. If I went out like that, she would have run off scared.
I turned and went to the bathroom where I hastily wiped all the blood off my face and changed into a dirty t-shirt. When I was half-way satisfied with the way I looked, I headed back toward the door."
I held the sawed-off shotgun close to my chest and stepped off the curb to the house across the street. But I realized having a huge gun in my hands would probably scare her, so I tucked it into the seat of my jeans. As I neared the house, the woman cursed and pounded her hands on the bumper of the old Honda.
"Something wrong?"
I must have startled her because she spun around to face me with lightning speed. "Jesus! I'm sorry. My car won't start," she said. "it's been doing this forever. I just haven't had a chance to take it in."
Her eyes were dark blue, almost black. I found myself mesmerized by them and her heart-shaped face. I shook myself back into reality.
"You may not get a chance again."
"I know." She sighed.
I peered into the engine, fiddling with a couple wires. I noticed the problem right away, but my mechanic"s training kicked in without hesitation.
"what's it doin...?"
"Unfortunately I'm a doctor of medicine, not a doctor of cars."
That was funny. I chuckled. "Try me."
"All right. Every time I try to start it, it clicks. It takes a couple of times to start." She leaned against the hood. I caught a quick glimpse of her cleavage.
