Three cheers for all of us being on the same page and having a plan we believe in. Three boos for how damned bad it hurts to swing that fucking sledgehammer hundreds of times. I’m sore as hell, and I can tell that everyone else is, too. Even Lowe’s monster ass is acting like he’s beat. Still, it’s good to know that we all want the same thing.
We’re going to have to keep working at making an entry hole probably well into tomorrow. While Lowe kept smashing away with his determination, the rest of us began scouring the bank for any and all lighting devices. We’ve gotten a box full of flashlights thus far. We should be just fine once we get to go underground.
Fred was the first to really break through the concrete. It’s a nice sized chunk, but we have probably a good bit of work left to go in making it big enough for the all of us to fit through.
It’s nearing my turn again at swinging the sledgehammer for a while. I’ll just cut this entry a bit short. I need to wrap this journal well so as not to get wet and damaged. I also need to figure out how to keep Camo out of the water, too because we’ve been using some metal shelving posts to measure the water. It seems to be about chest high on most of us.
DAY - 97
I’ve had the longest day of my life. In fact, I’m writing this an actual full day after the fact. That’s how long we were trekking through the old sewers. The salt water was tough on us in a lot of places, too. There was nothing easy about getting to our current destination.
It was about 2 am yesterday morning that we broke a hole big enough for us all to enter the old sewer system. We figured, why wait? We all just grabbed our weapons that we felt we could carry or wade through water with and took to the plan.
Initially, the systems were leading us west, but we finally came upon a duct that led back to the north where we needed to head. Despite the water being very high in points, our flashlights held up pretty well - only two of the many shorted out.
The worst part of the entire journey was busting a partially broken wall that put us into an existing, new junction of the sewers. The water was rushing us the entire time we tried to break the wall down, and as soon as the wall did crumble for us, we got rushed even more so. I know that we lost a good bit of our ammunition in a couple of backpacks that the water rushed off with, but overall we were just fine for the scenario that would come right after. The junction we had broken into was a harbor for mutating ghouls. They were everywhere, and that’s exactly how we began to fire every gun we had - everywhere. Some of the ghouls were lumbering on two legs, still, but many others were changing into shapes that helped them move faster. It wasn’t long before Lowe was back to slinging his machetes around and hacking ghouls apart. The bastard basically forced the rest of us to grab knives and machetes to use as well, otherwise we’d have ended up shooting him.
Ellen was the only one to take a wound in the fight, though.
One of the ghouls had ripped open her right leg badly. It’s a hell of a gaping wound and one that we couldn’t sew up at the moment. Lowe felt the need to go to her aid and grab a gun again for defending her. I can say that despite her pain, it helped us as we all grabbed guns again and finished the fuckers off.
Our remaining trek through the systems began leading us to manhole entrances to the city streets. We began taking turns to go up the ladders and try to peek a view of where we were in the city. We were hoping to find more rural suburban surroundings, but we had to finally decide on going back topside at an intersection with three of the corners having gas stations. We just darted for the station with the biggest store attached to it and have made that our current holding position.
Ellen has lost a lot of blood, but she is stitched up - 37 stitches that Beth put a lot of time into. Fred is livid but keeping calm, as he knows his anger would probably just put Ellen in a panic. Ellen is currently sedated with beer from the store’s coolers and as many pain relievers we could find in the medicine aisle here. Also, as much as I would like to keep Fred from worrying about Ellen’s possible infection of nanotech transmittance, I can’t guarantee him anything. What I can tell him is that it all took place while under the salt water, and that we have yet to see anything ghouls survive completely under any water. Even the floaters we had encountered don’t go underwater without having to come up. The nanotech were working within vessels. They are still susceptible to shorting out in the water, I’m thinking. Surely none of them were transferred.
DAY - 98
Lowe and I had been up since first daylight and both devised pretty much the same plan. There just happened to be diesel tankers parked behind the gas station across the street. We could see that they were in decent shape, too. Lowe was thinking of stealing one and finding his tank to refuel it and keep it in our use. That was fine with me because after that, I wanted to take each tanker, park them at both ends of the causeway, lead every ghoul we can to the middle of the causeway and then blow them, stranding the ghouls in the middle. I went ahead and told Lowe every bit of what I had planned and how to get it done, now, with his tank. He agreed, and we were in business.
Fred and Beth were fine with staying in the gas station and tending to Ellen. Beth gave Ellen a glance and then stared at me while tapping a handgun on the ground near her. I just nodded. I knew what she meant, and I knew she just wanted someone to agree with her on what may have to be done. Lowe and I grabbed machetes and two handguns each as we figured to be running more than fighting. I also removed Camo from his duffle bag. I found a clear, plastic doughnut container, emptied it and put him inside of it. A few holes were made for his breathing, and we had ourselves pretty much a type of mood-ring/ghoul radar. It fucking worked, too.
In only minutes, Lowe and I were driving one of the three diesel tankers at our disposal. Lowe found a tanker that had keys still in the ignition. He insisted on driving, which was fine with me. I had Camo in his box atop the dashboard, and I had the huge map to the city as well. I navigated our way through the city. As much as I’d love to say it was an easy task finding the tank, it just didn’t happen that way. It was hard enough to maneuver through the crowded streets full of cars. Then, just when we figured things were complicated enough, it got very dark and cloudy, and it happened fast. It was raining within moments of noticing the overcast sky.
The darkness and rain seemed to be a signal for the hiding ghouls to emerge. I didn’t see them at first, but I did see Camo turn red. I knew it wasn’t going to get any easier as soon as I saw him change colors. As you could easily assume, Lowe was all smiles. He was having fun running over the ghouls. I guess that strategy was driving me more than fun, as I kept harping on him not to pierce our tanker by wrecking it. As we got to the tank, getting it running was a real task. Ghouls were trying to climb aboard it as soon as Lowe parked the tanker truck beside it. Lowe felt the need to start hacking away at the ghouls, so I wasted no time in
attaching the fuel hoses from the tanker truck and resting the other end of the hose around the lip of the tank’s gas tank. I had to throw the valve open and waste a lot of diesel fuel, but the tank got refueled in only seconds. I just as quickly closed the valve and tossed the hose aside to cap the gas tank. I really wanted to put the hose back on the tanker as it was originally stored, but more ghouls kept coming our way. I had to start hacking away at them just as much as Lowe was. I eventually got back into the tanker truck, and Lowe got himself secured in the tank. I made it a point to get the tanker truck started, out of Lowe’s way and get a good ways down the road ahead of him. I assumed what would happen next, and sure enough, Lowe got his tank moving, and he tore into some ghouls and a nearby car. The tank’s metal track sparked and ignited the spilled diesel fuel.
When anyone of us finally saw Lowe again, he was getting out of the tank at our gas station. He was smiling with soot all over his hands and face - the crazy bastard.
DAY - 99
The rain hasn’t stopped at all since yesterday. It’s not a storm by any means - just a steady, light rain. The darkness from the overcast sky is pretty much is in line with everyone’s mood, as well. We’ve taken a loss in a scenario which has shaken us.
Lowe and I were just outside of the gas station and talking about taking two tanker trucks completely to the causeway and scout it as much as time allowed. Suddenly Beth and Fred were backing out of the gas station. Ellen had them at gunpoint. Ellen was delirious and loudly ranting at us all.
She was then changing her aim between us. One main point she kept spouting at us was that she felt we were planning on killing her before we moved on again. Then she just kept talking from two other extremes - at times telling us how she was going to force us to find her a hospital - to fix her like we did Fred. Then she’d just as quickly start spouting how she would kill herself in front of us so that we could suffer with that memory for the rest of our miserable existences. The woman actually had Fred broken down into tears. Beth looked to be close enough to tears herself. Everything changed, though, with the emergence of two ghouls that appeared from around a building several yards away. The ghouls were that of a stumbling mother pushing a stroller in front of her and also the ghoul of an infant still strap-locked in the stroller. I have to admit it was one of the most disturbing things that I have seen yet. Ellen had just been talking about us having no future, and suddenly, symbolically we could see that the infancy of our once possible future was tainted and damaged beyond repair. Ellen took notice of the ghouls and limped quickly over to them while firing shots the whole way. And that’s when the other ghouls emerged from around the same building. They took after Ellen quickly and tore her apart.
Lowe and I had to physically drag Fred to get him moving.
Beth hurried into the gas station and grabbed as many of our backpacks of supplies as she could. She made sure to grab the one with our C4 in it. I made it to a tanker truck, Beth got to her own tanker truck and Lowe dragged Fred into the tank with him.
Here at the causeway we have come upon a nightmare of congestion. There are cars everywhere and even a few ghouls about. Lowe moved his tank onto the causeway a good ways while Beth and I parked our tanker trucks sideways, perpendicular to the lanes and just at the entrance of the causeway. We've taken half of our C4, plastic explosives and chocked them under each tanker truck’s tires. Now, we’re all inside the tank and just waiting for more ghouls to show. On top of that, Fred’s been a quiet mess the whole time. None of us are sure how to even try and console or comfort him either. We know it’s mostly pointless with how much pain he must be feeling. There’s no fixing it, and the agreed assumption is to let him deal with it alone because we know damned well that we are going to have a major fight on our hands soon - we hope his possible rage will help. Of course, we are keeping eyes on him at all times and have not allowed any weapons within his quick reach in case he gets suicidal.
Supply checks reveal that we’ve got only handguns, machetes and knives, two shotguns but no extra ammunition besides what's in the guns. Lowe and I have each claimed machetes with Beth claiming two handguns. The other half of our C4 explosives should be enough to blow the other end of the causeway, and the tank has 3 shells left to fire. We seem to have completely lost Camo in all of the day’s confusion and preparations, as well. He’d be red and easy to find if he was anywhere around. He must know what’s coming.
DAY - 100
We never went to sleep and had just watched out of the tank’s small viewing slats. The ghouls were everywhere.
They had grown massive in numbers overnight and reminded me of standing room only crowds at huge music festivals. It smelled about the same, too. Lowe got the tank moving and crushing past vehicles. He suddenly stopped and rotated the turret to aim at the two tanker trucks we had left at the causeway entrance. Lowe fired a shell and completely leveled that end of the causeway. It blew a good 15 yards or so of it completely into dust. The water rushed in filling the space created. We turned the turret back forward and pushed on making our way to just past the middle of the causeway - five big trucks had made a blockage that our tank just wasn’t going to clear - the climb proving too steep.
It felt like the tank was going to tip over on one side. We had no choice left but to back up, fire our last two shells to clear whatever kind of path we could and make a run for it. I put on the backpack with our remaining C4, as soon as I knew we were about to make a run for it. Firing those two shells opened a lane for us, but it looked to be closing as soon as we exited the tank. Lowe was the first one out, swinging a machete every direction and cutting heads in half. Fred just snapped, grabbed a shotgun and was out immediately after Lowe. Fred raged ahead seemingly wanting everyone right behind him as he was working hell on the ghouls. Del was out next and swinging a machete like a madman. They were all artists of death, so much that I think the Devil himself would have been pleased. I had two handguns, and for as long as I could I took decent enough head shots. We quickly reached a point of running more than fighting, though. Lowe was the first one I saw fall prey to the ghouls - then Fred. It was dumb luck that did them both in. Lowe was running atop cars and his legs fell through a windshield. He fell face first into the car’s hood busting several of his teeth out. He dropped his machete in the fall, and in no time, ghouls were biting and tearing at his face. Like cowards the rest of us kept running. Fred dropped his shotgun and resorted to punching at ghouls until he ended up getting his fingers bitten off of one hand. Del dropped back to help Fred. I kept on moving, almost backpedaling as the ghouls were thinning out at that point on the causeway - the bulk of them behind us. Del was dicing ghouls as best he could while dragging Fred behind him. The ghouls finally took Fred for their own, though. Del simply hightailed it to me at that instant. Del and I were all but at the end of the bridge, and
I had the C4 explosives down - some shotgun shells I put with them to serve as detonators. One ghoul I didn’t see was about to attack me, but Del tackled it to the ground. It took a bite out of Del’s back before I got over to take care of it with Del's machete. I don’t even remember how many pieces I cut that fucker into, but I just as quickly got us up and over to the island’s bank several yards away from where I shot my last handgun rounds the at the explosives. It blew out almost as many yards of the causeway as the other end - no more getting to the island on foot or without learning to wade or swim well, first. Del’s plan had painfully succeeded. We soon found our way to a mock ranger’s station that housed an elevator down into the underground military base. The base is trashed, though - useless. Nothing here seems of any use. I searched hours for a defribulator - nothing’s here of use but extra handguns. There are thick, glass cells here just like the experimentation rooms at the other base. I’ve locked Del inside one. Now, I’m just going to sit here watching him while reading the pocket size Bible that Lowe gave me days ago. I’m going to read it backwards from Revelations to Genesis, so that it has a happy ending this time. Also, as I sit here, I’ll consider how long I can keep Del active in that cell. I know he’ll turn soon, but I respectfully owe his eyes seven to eight more months no matter what his condition is. I owe it to him to let him see his child at least once.
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