Adrian's Undead Diary Enter the World of AUD

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​       Shrike...When 30 rounds just ain't enough...

9pm

The radio just intercepted a transmission. This is the transcript.

Man: [static]... calling boss, over.

Womans voice: We hear you Mick what’s up.

Found where all that shoo... [static] ...oming from. Shopping trip about 5 miles west. Over.

See anyone? ...[static]... who it is? Over.

Nothing yet. Will look and keep you posted. We’re camping near M..

(Cutting him off) No locations over the radio!

Sorry boss. Over and out.

Over and out.

Al had heard too and came on the secure channel after a few minutes. We’re hunkering down and trying to stay out of sight, no lights or outside movement until we know more. Sounds like they’re pretty close by, attracted by our gunfire yesterday. I just hope my house isn’t too obviously occupied, I’ve loaded my weapons and put them by the bed.

I won’t be sleeping much tonight.

The writing is finished for Part 1 now, so updates will be a little more frequent again. Been looking forward to doing this bit for a while.

Monday 7^th May, 7pm

It’s been raining hard all day. The rain and wind is messing up communications, me and Al can talk reasonably well on our secure channel with the high-end kit but our interception is suffering. The people from last night have been talking frequently but we only get static and the occasional word. Neither of us have seen movement and we’ve kept our heads down, I daren’t even open or shut the curtains in case someone notices the change. I’ve been crawling under the windows that can be seen from the hilltops.

Al sounded scared. He told me over the radio that he has security cameras around his house fed from his panels, and after a pause told me to go and get my map. He said that one of the little instructions (“crashed tractor”) is in fact his house, and he coded it in case the map got into the wrong hands. He apologised for not trusting me enough to tell me sooner and said he’d come and help me if I was attacked. I said I’d do the same for him, and that we should stay off the net to conserve power. Now isn’t the time for a heart to heart, and him talking about honesty makes me feel guilty.

There’s been nothing on the radio for a few hours now. Another sleepless night for me.

Al really seems to have his shit squared away...a good person to have teamed up with! I love the "crashed tractor", good opsec! A great entry Preasure :)

​       Shrike...When 30 rounds just ain't enough...

Good stuff, been reading most of today. So is this based in the UK?

Yep, it's set in the UK. I'm British so setting it in a familiar setting was the obvious choice. The actual locations are all completely fictional though.

Wondered since there are several refs to Montforth / Montfort in the UK, Leicester actually.

BTW: I'm a UK citizen, however I grew up in Canada, now live in the US.

I made Montford up as a generic village name, or at least I thought I did :P I've lived near Leicester so a bit of subconscious inspiration may have happened there. 

Tuesday 8^th May.

Al’s house was attacked at dawn.

I responded as soon as I got his call. I followed the sound of automatic gunfire to his house, as I ran he filled me in on the details. Four shooters were spread out around his house and putting on heavy suppression fire from good cover, my plan was to hit them from the rear so Al could return fire. I’ve never felt so nervous.

Al lives in a small, single storey cottage built onto the side of an outcrop of rock. The house is in a clearing completely surrounded by woodland, with a small dirt track running up to it. The crashed tractor he mentioned is at the end of the lane and I turned off into the woods, creeping parallel to the road as fast as I dared. The gunfire was intense, every second felt like an hour as I edged closer. I came to the crest of a small rise and lay down to peer over at the cottage. The windows had been boarded but had been shredded by gunfire, the door wasn’t in much better shape. As I watched a hand holding a pistol appeared over a windowsill and fired a few shots, ducking down before a barrage of return fire flew through the window.

I could see three attackers. One was right in front of me, a man in tattered camouflage firing an MP5. To his left was a woman hidden behind a large rock and panning the house with a large scoped hunting rifle, who I assumed was the ‘boss’ from the radio. Another man had run towards the house but was crouching behind a derelict car in the drive, waiting for a chance to breach the door. The fourth was somewhere to my right, firing what sounded like another MP5. I shuffled along the rise until I was behind a tree and brought my rifle up, aiming for the head of the man right in front of me. As my finger rested against the trigger I realised my hands were shaking, the sights were weaving back and forth wildly. The dead are one thing but this was a living man, and as much as I needed to stop him I didn’t think I could do it. It sounds so cowardly, but I don’t want to be a killer.

I was sat there, moral battle still raging in my head, when I saw it out of my peripheral vision. The man behind the car stood up and ran as another automatic burst from the treeline raked the cottage. Time seemed to slow down as I saw him raise a shotgun, ready to push it through the window and blow apart my friend inside. Without knowing it the sights were under my eye and for a brief second my barrel moved with him as he ran. I felt the numb buck of the rifle as the back of his head evaporated and the body was flung sideways, tumbled then lay still.

For the briefest of moments everything was silent, then gunfire erupted all around. The man in camo spun round and fired, I got off one shot before bullets whizzed past my head and tore up the ground. I felt a short, hot pain in my shoulder and rolled down the rise, there was a second set of shots now as heavy booming fire rose up from the house. On my right someone screamed. A figure appeared over the hill and I pumped the trigger wildly, he stumbled and a bullet from the house punched through his back, killing him instantly. I scrambled up, grabbing the weapon from his outstretched hand and running back over the ridge. Boss was still behind her rock, laying down fire on the house. She saw me and turned but I was already firing, bile in my throat as the submachine gun tore her life away. I only stopped when the magazine emptied.

Then there was silence. Cold sweat ran down my back as I flopped down with my head in my hands. Through the ringing in my ears I heard a small bird start to sing. Our battle had lasted less than a minute. I felt a gentle hand on my arm and a bloodstained Al helped me up. Shell casings scattered under our feet as he helped me inside, my shoulder throbbed and when I reached out to it my fingers came back red. My head suddenly felt very light and my vision blurred, I was briefly aware of a second face and the tight pressure of a bandage before I blacked out.

I came to after about half an hour. I’d been grazed deeply by a 9mm round but the bleeding has stopped and the wound should heal well. Everyone else should be fine too.

That’s right, everyone else. Al’s big secret he was hiding from me? His two teenage daughters. Sophie was wounded in the side, but she’s been stitched up and Al has given her some of his blood. Rose tended to me and sat watch while he went out and retrieved the weapons from our attackers, then followed the tracks. He said they led to a motor home parked about a mile away, with bunks for four. Wherever they came from, for tonight at least we’re safe. Today has been a whirl, but tomorrow when my nerves calm and I start to recover, I’ll try and make some sense of it all.

When I close my eyes that brief battle plays again and again. I killed two living people. I will remember their faces as long as I live.

How ironic.

Brilliant entry :)

​       Shrike...When 30 rounds just ain't enough...

And after the fighting the secrets are all out, with a bit of exposition thrown in.

Thursday 10^th May, Day 22.

Things have taken a very interesting turn. I told Al everything, and he did the same.

Yesterday I was well enough to go and help with the cleanup at Al’s. Or should I say the Fenchurch family residence. My shoulder hurts but is healing nicely, as long as I don’t strain myself too much. Sophie was up and about but not up to work so me, Al and Rose spent the morning fixing the windows and doors. Al has the back of the house set up as a second perimeter, so people can hide there and be safe from fire from the windows. The front rooms were pretty chewed up but they only used them for storage anyway. Rose is a lovely girl, she’s 17 but seems incredibly mature, hardened even. During the firefight she was in the attic, shooting through a small hole in the tiles made for just that purpose. Both she and Sophie still have long, sleek blonde hair after months and months of the apocalypse, which just isn’t fair. I haven’t spoken to Sophie (who is 19) much, she seems quieter and more wary of me, but me and Rose get on like a house on fire.

Speaking of which, we burned the bodies out in the woods. They had no military ID or kit, the woman was wearing a police stab vest (much good it did her) and their guns are police issue. We think they stole them from a station, maybe from an armed unit that got overrun. They had a small amount of food in the motor home, along with more weapons and general supplies. So we now have a good deal more guns and ammo, including a submachine gun each. They fire 9mm bullets, so we’re nicely flush with ammo for them too. There was also a full set of district maps, which is useful. The motor home is going back to Al’s where he can hide it in the trees. Judging from the stuff in the camper and a brief journal we found, they aren’t part of a larger group and just travelled around. Was robbing people their way of life, or did they just get desperate? We’ll never know.

Today was the long and serious chat day. The raiders had some fresh food in their van so we cooked it and had a nice big meal. Over dinner Al spilled the beans about his family, and why he was always so secretive. When the outbreak struck they had travelled into the countryside and ended up here, but on the way they were stopped by a gang of men. They robbed them at gunpoint, then turned their attention to the girls. They tried to drag them into their house but the family had fought back and killed several of them. During the firefight Al’s wife was shot and killed. I don’t blame him one bit for keeping me in the dark.

I, with much trepidation, told him I couldn’t remember anything from before three weeks ago. I expected to get thrown out but they were surprisingly OK with it, more curious than anything really. Me and Al have been through a lot together, compared to saving his family this was an insignificant detail. The others all started speaking on top of each other, trying to fill me in on details. This is the condensed version of what they told me.

The outbreak started in late August in North Korea, or so the news said. Towards the end lots of people said it had been the west, or China, that started it and had picked a scapegoat. But it spread rapidly though East Asia and within a week of the first outbreak the Korean peninsula was in open war. Japan and China were hit hard, their massive populations fuelling the flames. Two weeks after the news broke the US Navy was shelling Tokyo and the world was starting to break down. The disease wasn’t really spread by the dead but by refugees, who could make it hundreds of miles or so before succumbing to bites and infecting new populations. The huge militaries of Asian nations fought hard but were surrounded and cut off from supply lines as the virus became endemic. Africa was decimated in less than a week as countries and factions fought each other for resources and safe havens.

At first, developed nations were able to contain minor outbreaks and keep their borders closed. As the food supplies started to run out and refugees crept past the blockades things got worse and worse, Europe and the Middle East crumbled as the virus took hold in their populations. Being an island Britain managed to hold off for a while, but the waves of fleeing survivors from mainland Europe overcame the border controls. With few firearms in public hands and a high population density infection spread quickly. Before the news finally cut off at the end of September they said America had been overrun on both coasts and there was heavy fighting to stop the disease spreading westwards. It only took the dead a month to destroy the entire civilised world.

Al said when he did a supply run into Lintin town a few months ago there were a few pockets of survivors, and we know there’s at least two airfields still running. Maybe civilisation is carrying on somewhere, or the dead are being pushed back elsewhere in the world. But we have no way of knowing, and for now our survival is in our own hands and our hands alone.

Very plausible...nicely done :)

​       Shrike...When 30 rounds just ain't enough...

/Nice! I really like the story so far. Just wondering why a group of four would do such a thing?

Thank-you!

I'm following your tale, and enjoying your story.

Keep it coming!!!

With AUD ending soon I'm kind of undecided on how to carry this on - I'd planned a second part about the same length as what's already been posted but that could take months. I could wrap it up in a couple of entries but I don't really want to sell the story short. So what I think I'll do is do a shortened version of Part 2 with the important bits in but a faster pace, so you can all see how it ends.

Next entry is up tomorrow!