The doors opened, the bunker before us again, and we were greeted with Ellen and Officer Olson pointing shotguns at us.
They had heard the many echoes of our shotguns being fired.
The elevator shaft had let them hear our entire little war. Ellen reminded us to quickly wash away all of the blood and pieces of ghouls that had gotten on us in the fight. We did so.
We had only been in the silo for about nine hours. It felt longer, and I could have sworn that we slept forever. Luckily for us it wasn’t longer because Fred and the other officers were already scouting the best ways for us to leave the base. Fred was definitely glad to see Beth and I alive and back into the scheme of things. The plan, now, is to get to the entire other side of the base to where the trucks for mass transit are docked as well as for maintenance and refueling. Every flight ready plane or chopper had been gone for weeks according to Olson.
Though, if we could find one, we would definitely look to use it. Kesler, Unger and Ernest joined in conversations about how they had never even met before until members of their respective squads were mutilated just trying to refuel some choppers - meaning there had to be an amazing amount of people on this base that either escaped or were turned. They hadn’t even wanted to try again since then, but they hadn’t the weapons to give them any guts to do so either. I can see where Fred and I may have to be quite motivating.
Fred agrees waiting until tomorrow morning for our plan to take action is wise - exhaustion, needing a damn good meal and a good night’s sleep should have us all fully ready for action. I had to ask him about the controls and why no one noticed flickering lights. Fred then showed me the controls were smashed. He apologized - he took to beating info. out of Taft, and one of Taft’s falls took out the panel. Fred has now decided to start drilling everyone mentally about how we were going to make this plan perfect. I can see the military grit in him more than ever.
DAY - 79
Daylight came, and our plan immediately took action. Kesler, Unger, Ernest and Olson were given our shotguns and ammo.
Fred, Ellen, Beth and I had the pulse rifles. The Airmen officers acted as the back group of four that watched our asses - our eyes in the back of our heads. The other four of us took care of moving forward and watching our sides. The best part of our plan, though, was using Taft and his bloody cloth wrapped hand to lead us on our way. We made him pace a good many yards in front of us and unarmed.
We had a good two-mile trek to make, and it came with nothing but obstacles. We had no sooner made it to the main barracks and a flood of ghouls started making their way towards us. I’d like to say I was impressed with the Airmen officers, but for the most part, they wasted our ammo. We had to keep reminding them to take head shots only. As for the four of us using the pulse rifles, we didn’t have the gloves we needed to hold them anymore. That was pretty much the demise of Taft. Several ghouls took to tearing him to pieces.
We ended up running before we thought we’d have to. I did manage to pass off my pulse rifle to Kesler while I pulled my sword and used it only a few times when a ghoul was in our set path.
I think that the heated barrels of the shotguns were the reasons that Kesler and Ernest ended up falling victims to the ghouls.
They had tried to use two of our shotguns like baseball bats, but I saw them drop the shotguns no sooner than they had grabbed the barrels to swing them. Fred, Ellen and Beth had made it into one covered, personnel truck’s cabin while Unger, Olson and I found our way into the cabin of another. You’d have thought it was a race to see who could hotwire their truck faster, but either way, Fred and I were both soon on the road and running over ghouls. Then I noticed that the back of Fred’s truck had several stowaways in the back of it. I had to drive up beside Fred and yell the news to him. Fred then slowed down a bit to check in the back of my truck and then got alongside me again confirming the same problem. We agreed to get several miles traveled down interstate 80 before we both slammed the brakes to our trucks, threw them in park and got out to deal with the ghouls. I let the others stand back as I baited and then cut the ghouls into as many pieces as it took. Again I noticed how most everyone looks at me like a fucking madman when I’m done dicing up those damned ghouls. Fuck it. I don’t care what they think. I get the job done. Hell, back in the days of old Rome, I would have been cheered and treated like a celebrity. We then all took a good look at our surroundings on the interstate and noticed that we were actually in a place of safety for the moment. We took the chance to check our supplies, and it doesn’t look too good. We have a few MRE’s that we’ve stashed in some of our pockets, but we have nothing to drink. We’re also down to five shotgun shells between only two shotguns. The pulse rifles are worthless, now - all ammo for them is spent. We’re seriously down to my sword, a couple of knives and Fred has Taft’s handgun.
We got our trucks back on the interstate and passed the state line through West Wendover, Nevada. For now, we are going to sit tight in the cabins of our parallel-parked trucks and possibly get some sleep. We’re parked just a mile or past the exit ramp into that town, so we shouldn’t be in for any surprises. Our doors are locked and windows up. Oh, and Beth made it a point to have herself swap spots with Olson - from the truck with Fred and Ellen to my truck with Unger. I seriously see that as pure jealousy, but I’ll just let it go. Beth’s got not competition, really. I wish I had enough time alone with her to prove it.
DAY - 80
My mother always said that laziness would someday damn near get me killed - that I always knew better than to let stupidity cause me such harm. First thing this morning, Beth and I experienced it. It was all of our faults really, but I truly should have known better. I should have given everyone a good check because of how close the ghouls came towards us in running for the trucks. Unger had been bitten near his ankle. I don’t even remember it happening, or I would have dealt with it immediately and definitely not have forgotten.
Beth made the worst sound I had ever heard from her. I knew she could make some sounds, and this one ended up being her best form of a scream for help. It’s what woke me up instantly this morning, and I saw Beth kicking an attacking Unger who looked ferociously hungry. Beth was backing me up into the door so much that I struggled to move at all. I couldn’t open my door as it was my side that was parked closely to the other truck. In my peripheral sight I could see Fred, Ellen and Olson quickly exiting their truck. Beth had her knife pulled and was stabbing at Unger for every time he tried to grab her.
I remember thinking constantly that Unger would bite or scratch Beth - that it’d be over for her if I couldn’t prevent it or if I couldn’t cure her like I cured myself. Beth managed to kick the fuck out of Unger’s mouth that teeth were being broken with each kick, and then finally the passenger side door opened. Fred yanked Unger to the groun
d, and the next I could hear was Fred beating Unger’s head several times with something - turned out to be his boots. I got Beth and myself out of the truck quickly. I checked Beth thoroughly. She didn’t have a scratch on her. She got real lucky. I got real lucky. In only seconds, we were all checking each other thoroughly for wounds of any type. We’re all just fine. Once again, we are only a band of five survivors strong. I’m starting to not like that number too well.
We quickly decided to take the other truck into town. West Wendover, Nevada is pretty much a small town with a slight city look to it. The casinos seem to have made it a prosperous place. Fred drove us past a few of the casinos, and from the back of the truck, the rest of us could see in passing that they had numerous ghouls inside them. I could imagine those fuckers still trying to do the slot machines and throwing dice all over the place. Then we drove past the casino with a mock MGM Grand styled fountain in front of it. There were several ghouls in the little pool area that the fountains were surrounded by. They were constantly trying to look into the fountain pipes, and then the water would burst up in their faces, ripping off the skin and knocking them backwards several feet. We all kind of laughed about that. Fred kept us going at a quite a good pace throughout street after street, until we were stopped right in front of a pawnshop. Fred came running to the back of the truck trying to hold both shotguns - he tossed to Olson and Ellen, who were the first to get out. I helped Beth down and then myself.
It took two shots to unlock pawnshop. Once inside, I almost felt right at home. I even half expected to see a dog like Sid somewhere. The place is a plethora of useful items, and we started to load as much as we could into the back of our truck.
The place was shotgun heaven. We’ve got ourselves each a pump-action shotgun again with 32 more boxes of shotgun shells, some machetes, crowbars, aluminum baseball bats, a couple of portable propane, mini-grills, cases of beer and sodas, extra pairs of shoes, a few hand held police CB’s and a lot of batteries - it’s just amazing what people will pawn for casino money. Beth and I are now driving down I-93 towards Alamo.
We’re taking it slow. We need to refuel soon and find a station with food, too.
DAY - 81
Last night’s refueling went without a hitch. We did happen to find another very isolated mini-mart gas station with lots of snack foods. With the truck, though, we took every fucking thing they had, drinks and all. I also noticed that Fred was responsible for about eight empty beer cans, and he was acting like a much upbeat person. He was trying to get us all worked up about beating the enemy just like in Vietnam. It was funny.
This morning Beth shoved me until I woke up. She then pointed to the green road sign that said, RACHEL, NEVADA.
We had already been on highway 375 - the extraterrestrial highway as it’s referred to. We then heard banging from the back of the truck and muted yelling. Beth stopped the truck.
Fred, Ellen and Olson got out of the back of the truck to meet us in the desolate highway - and I mean desolate. There’s absolutely nothing out here except desert and treeless mountains. Fred explained what we need to be looking for, and then he took over driving anyway. It was probably another 30 minutes before we stopped.
We armed ourselves with the shotguns and went out on foot in the town of Rachel, Nevada. I thought the place would really be bigger than it is, but at the same time, the whole town is really one big souvenir shop. We then started to notice there were no bodies at all - no ghouls - no deceased. The place is an entire ghost town. In fact, the only time anyone fired a shot was when a big replica alien happened to scare Olson when checking out one store.
About an hour later and we found ourselves standing at a torn, chain link fence. It was split with wire cutters or something like that, and to the right side hung a government, NO TRESPASSING sign. Fred turned to us all and stated that more than likely the military had been in town to try and clean up. It made sense. Why else would there be no bodies at all? The outbreak started here, so it seems very likely that this was the first place it affected and required massive cover up. Fred then let us in on what we should expect. He told us that if the military is still in control, then we weren’t going to make it so easily to the base. Despite our being dressed in fatigues, we could still end up being in a sniper’s scope. I wish he’d have left that part out because it made the mile walk to the base more tense than if there had been ghouls coming from every direction. Thanks again, Fred - bastard.
There aren’t many bunkers to the base like I was expecting. I was almost disappointed, but then Fred said he knew where we needed to go. He led us to what resembled a simple utility shed. It was no shed. It’s another secret elevator and it goes way down. Fred doesn’t want to go under yet, though. He led us to other buildings with more topside information available.
We’ve been reading all that was around. Things are much worse than ever expected. In a General Ingram’s office, Ellen found a silver binder full of experiment dossiers. Below our feet lies a laboratory huge enough to house the following:
Photosynthesis Expansion and Animate Defense of Flora - Artificial Regenerative Tissue Intelligence - Remote Population Control. The list goes on and on, but those big three I’ve seen huge fuck ups on their part. None of us really even want to go under. According to the file, there is nothing but more efficient ways to kills us down there, but there is also the lure of solutions to the entire mess. There are documented remedies and “ down-agents “ for each experiment. We could possibly end it all, but so far tonight, none of us has managed to get up the courage.
DAY - 82
We had no choice. We should have left the base last night or even earlier, but early in the morning hours the insects came.
I don’t know if they were ants, spiders or what. They were small and fucked up Fred’s left arm pretty bad. They had attacked Fred because he slept closest to the door in the bunker we were in. Beth and I shot out a back window, and we all managed to make it outside. We could only think of one place that we had seen that would serve as airtight and a sanctuary. That one place was the elevator in the mock shed.
We got inside and decided to go down only so far. For a while we did have the elevator emergency stopped, but Fred’s arm seemed to be getting worse right in front of us - his pain increased. Again, we had no choice but to continue down.
Ellen, more than any of us, was driven by the hope that there were cures in the laboratory. If there are we’re fucked because the entire lab is a disaster area from what I can tell.
I don’t know what the fuck is down here, but it’s big. It can either hear, or it simply smells blood because it came from nowhere and tried snatching Fred. Ellen took the first shot at it and missed. As for Olson, I didn’t even hear her get off one shot. She’s just gone. It’s q
uick, whatever it is.
We’ve managed to barricade ourselves in a thick, glass holding cell of sorts. It’s rather dark in this lab, and I can’t see much of shit, but there’s only one door to this cell. We’ll at least know where that fucking thing comes from and where to shoot.
Fred’s seemed progressively getting worse, but he fell unconscious - at least, no longer screaming. I asked Ellen and Beth to hold down Fred anyway, and I removed a small pocket knife that I had snagged from the pawn shop. Fred’s arm seemed to be moving and pulsating, but it also looked like something was in it. I told the girls to look away, and I started digging the little knife’s blade into Fred’s arm. Fred awoke screaming, but between the girls and myself sitting on his chest, I just kept on. It wasn’t long before one of those fucking insect things revealed itself as having been in Fred’s arm all that time. It was trying to burrow into him like a damned tick would. The little bastard put up a good fight and even snapped at my fingers several times. I eventually just had to punch Fred’s arm over and over until the insect was crushed from the blows. Then I removed it piece by piece and still stomped the hell out of it when it was on the ground - just in case.
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