Do you remember when I stashed an “oh shit” bag halfway between here and Westfield? Back when I was doing my recon work when Sean was still alive? Mr. Journal we were right near there earlier today when we left to scour for my ambulance.
Our team heading out today was myself, Kevin, Fitz, Abby, Hector, and James. Hector and James really wanted to go to get outside the wall, and the rest are pretty self explanatory. We’d been leaving the Westfield soldiers behind more often because they’re less used to breaching operations and house clears, and because they’ve gotten into a great rhythm with the security at the school. Not to mention Hector has been tapped for vehicle maintenance and James has been in the woods hunting. This was their change of pace moment.
With three in each vehicle all heavily armed and pretty experienced, we felt good. Kevin also mounted M203s on his and Fitz’s M4s, so we had some serious squad support weaponry if need be. The roads heading over to that neck of the woods was decent. A little slippery, but not bad. The ambulance was right there on the side of the road, buried under the entire winter’s accumulation of snow. The tree cover right there was heavy as well, so there was little to no melting. Also, like a collective bunch of fucking bosses, not one of us remembered to bring a snow shovel. All we had was entrenching tools from the humvees.
We parked in the road, which of course hadn’t been plowed at all the entire winter (no surprise seeing as the DOT hasn’t been in operation of late). We had to rotate out the shoveling duties due to how hard it was to chip out the icy layers and thickly packed snow. It was shit work. We were grunting and groaning to the nth degree, making a ton of noise, and we managed to draw in two zombies in the seven hours we were there.
I happened to be pulling security both times the walkers came at us. Both came from the direction away from the main road, and they were struggling to trudge through the snow to get to us. I think it’s funny that the undead always use roads and streets to move. You’d think as mindless creatures they’d simply move in a straight line towards noise, but noooo… They always seem to stick to the roads.
At any rate, I watched as the two male zombies shuffled their way towards us, knee deep in thick, crusty snow. They fell over at least three or four times as they came up the road. At one point Abby was standing next to me watching, and she shook her head sadly and walked back down the embankment to the ambulance. It really was sad and awkward and whatnot. I finally put rounds through their heads when they got to about thirty yards away. Made no sense to risk them getting any closer.
The good news out of the shooting of the zombies was that they were the drivers from the ambulance. They had more medical gear on them, as well as the remainder of the keys to the compartments in the rear of the ambulance that were still sealed. We did of course have to shoot a patient that was long dead and strapped into the back of the ambulance though. The guy had a bite wound on his arm I believe, and I’d guess he turned on them, caused a ruckus, then caused the crash that killed the two EMTs.
We did manage to salvage a lot of medical supplies from the mostly tipped over van. Our largest need was met only sparingly. We desperately needed IV bags to get fluids into the bodies of our sick survivors, and in the ambulance we found only six bags. Fortunately, Ethan said the bags were still good, so that’s something. Those bags will get us through a couple of days as we essentially force feed fluids right into their bloodstreams.
After we got everything out of the ambulance, we stopped at the house I stored my shotgun and Sig at, and retrieved them. They need some tender loving care, but they’ll work fine with some attention. It was nice to see the Sig again.
On our return we got the supplies to Ethan, and he started to tend to our sick. By the time we returned the clinic had been cleaned out. I could see the smoke rising from the back of campus from the fresh fire on the pyre. The bodies had been moved.
Ugly work I imagine.
Bastion is on its end, on tilt right now. Martin lost his wife of fourteen years. He’s been with his son, lost to his emotions since everything happened.
Lindsey lost her six year old daughter. I don’t need to explain to you what that would do to a mother. She’s living right next to Angela and Amanda right now so she has company and is surrounded by support.
Jeanette lost her baby boy. She’s also with Amanda and Angela. The Westfield people are hurt very very much by the loss of the child that was named after the man that helped to lead them.
Everyone misses Doc Lindsey.
I miss little Veronica. She was a bubbly little girl that died far before her time was due. She had no family we could find, no name, and she left the world just as anonymously as her family did. The only thing that marks her life now is the mentions of her in this fucking journal. Pathetic.
Diane, the woman we believe brought all this upon us is also dead. I wonder if this is karma for having shot at us when we arrived to try and rescue them? I wonder if this is karma for us too.
Roger is dead. He was such a good guy too. One of the nation’s most highly trained military men killed in his sleep (we think) by someone who died under his care. We really needed him here, and it’s clear now how close Kevin’s group really was. They are all in mourning over his loss.
I don’t need to explain how badly Kevin is missing his buddy Kyle. Kyle was Kevin’s driver on their last op in Jerusalem, and he was an excellent team member before that, and since then.
Alex has shut himself away trying to get over the loss of George, his boyfriend. Michelle has been trying to talk to him to get him to come out and be with the rest of us, but he can’t sustain it. Ten or fifteen minutes of socialization and he overloads with emotion, and leaves. He just can’t take it.
Michelle shut the school down for a few days to let everyone digest the past couple day’s events. Ollie has rolled down the amount of labor he is asking of the younger people as they struggle to cope with the sudden large scale loss of life. We’re an emotional wreck right now, myself included. The less I think about what just happened, the better off I am.
Strangely enough, I don’t feel like I failed this time. So many of our bad incidents have felt to me like they were my fault, but I really feel like this time we made good decisions. If anything, I feel like our medical people underestimated the seriousness of the sickness that we’re dealing with. I’m not laying blame here Mr. Journal. Our medical people are top notch. But, we are not in a real hospital, with full diagnosis equipment, and a real lab to run real tests. It’s a lot of educated guesswork.
Where do we go from here?
We need more IV bags. We also need more medicine. We also know that there are no good places to find these things in town, or in Westfield. Furthermore, there are no good places to find these things in any of the small towns around here. We’ve already cannibalized the pharmacies and the local clinics.
Our last resort is the city.
Our discussions about what that means will be tomorrow morning.