A Picture Share!

to: TheSards [member list hidden]
bcc: MaltonSurvival@*******.***

You have a picture mail from Natalya!

Still alive, yes. This is an example of the kind of block map that we've used for suburb-level tactical planning. Just uploading it here temporarily. Perhaps shall start writing here again soon.

What a Long, Strange Trip It's Been

It's been three months, to the day, since my last post. So much has happened in that time. The most exciting change of note is that citywide service has been restored to Malton's local mobile phone network. This is in fact the reason behind why I am able to update today. Prior updates were made from a phone tied into a specific jury-rigged phone mast in a location which I chose not to disclose at the time. You see, not knowing the full extent of the threat facing the city, I was very protective of the only sure method of outside contact I had.

I lost that point of contact during my move to the southwest. However, I gained something different in exchange: Fellowship with a friendly, strong band of fellow survivors, who welcomed me into their company and offered me a home with them.

Re-reading my older posts to this space, I am struck by the solitary, isolated, alienated tone that resonates through them.

Today, I am no longer alone. Have not been for quite some time.

The truth? I could have taken a day, at any time over the last two months or so, to travel back to my old neighborhood, patch back in from my secluded site, and post here again. There were days when I wondered whether my messages here had ever reached an audience. There were days when I was haunted by the nagging urge to return, to Tell The Story, to Break the News. But I was never a news reporter by trade ... and that goal was eventually replaced by the goal of helping my new-found allies locally, one day at a time, in whatever way possible.

And that is still my goal today. I am writing here primarily because I have been encouraged to do so. Thanks, Barry. And thank you, dear reader.

Yours from Malton,
-- Nat.

NT Bulletin

I received the following transmission, purporting to be from my superiors, at approximately 7AM. Just in time, considering I had been searching for direction and purpose. I will assume the transmission is genuine, and head towards the southwest temporary base.

*** For Immediate Distribution
The following locations have been nominated to serve as temporary NecroTech/medical bases for the appropriate city quadrant. GPS coordinates are given in brackets.

NW - St Eleutherius's Hospital [24,34] in East Becktown.
NE - St Columbanus's Hospital [74,24] in Santlerville.
SW - Josaphat General Hospital [28,86] in Lockettside.
SE - Anne General Hospital [85,94] in Whittenside.

All employees are advised to head towards the nearest temporary base to begin DNA cataloging and revivification procedures as soon as possible. END***

UPDATE (November 26): The above bulletin is now extremely outdated and should not be considered accurate by any means.

On Second Thought

Postscript: With regard to the discussion of my possible motivations for staying vs. going, it occurred to me that I would be remiss if I did not note that this building has "Somebody please keep up the barricades" spray painted across the walls of the lobby in a desperate red and black scrawl.

Additionally, someone has tagged the south side exterior wall with "Alive Inside". A statement I am sure was meant to give hope to people seeking shelter. However, I certainly hope for the sake of everyone in here that the zeds do not know how to read.

The barricades are as tight as I could make them. I am going to rest, and I plan to be on my way again by this afternoon. Until then, this is Natalya from Malton.

Only Immortal For A Limited Time

Nearly a day without sleep now; same location as before. I am well enough to be on the move again. Why am I staying here, spending precious time and effort building and rebuilding this clinic's tattered defenses, to defend these people who seem to not be taking any initiative to defend themselves, when I could be running the streets again on my solo quest to save the city?

It is senseless on the surface, yet I feel compelled to stay and help them. Why? Guilt over their plight, guilt by association with my employer? Or do I stay awake out of fear of going to sleep and waking up ... altered; arising as something unnatural, not-me?

My original mission, before I started writing, before I was actually hurt by one of my targets, was to act as an agent of change, "armed" (as it were) with syringes full of the roiling golden chemical compound that my employer assured us was an effective antidote to this plague. I am only now realizing how far I've strayed from that purpose -- gone to ground, when I obviously function better running free.

Reminded of my own mortality, fearing the change, I am already changed.

Zed Is The New Omega

So. In yet another change of fortune, I find myself now the only one in this hospital who is able-bodied and experienced and willing enough to maintain the barricades around the various points of entry here. The remaining medical personnel in the building seem to be keeping to themselves. Figuring, I imagine, that "the Nec' can do all the work; it was her lot that brought these zombies upon us in the first place."

Sorry. No, nobody's actually said that last bit yet. At least... not to my face. I seem to hear it in the doctors' mutterings amongst themselves, but perhaps that is just paranoia creeping up on me from lack of proper sleep.

Quotes Overheard While Barricading

"...that NT-building, the police station, the hospital and the NT building west of here. At most there were more than twenty-five doing the killing. I am lucky to have fled everytime..."

"Milverton Place P.D. overrun... many dead..."


I should hesitate to say that I passed that police department on my way here, while fleeing the Boundwood suburbs. I don't believe it's far from here. This does not bode well.

Visions Come True

Where shall I begin? This morning has been too eventful, even for around here.

Slept fitfully. Could not get the images of the previous night's fever dream out of my head. Events seemed to occur over and over again in slow motion, an endless and desperate cycle.

When I awoke this time, however, I found the scenario of my nightmare coming true right before my eyes:

The office building's defenses were completely torn apart and broken through. We were overrun!

Two of my fellow survivors were taken in their sleep. I counted nine of the invading beings - which we have taken to calling zeds, after the term we've heard for them on military radio frequencies - before I fled. I would have liked to shout in case my surviving comrades in the building were not already awake and alert to the threat as I was, but I was accosted by one of the "zeds" and after surviving its glancing blow, I dared not risk attracting more attention to myself. I did manage to jab it with my DNA extractor before fleeing.

Am presently in another location, with, I believe, four other humans in the building with me. It seems safe here -- but the offices seemed safe for several days, too. Shall spend my afternoon helping the others barricade the doors. Leaves me that much less time to search for medical supplies, not to mention mourn my departed comrades, but what other option do I have now?

Dreams

I had a very bad fever dream last night. Our safehouse was being invaded. When I awakened this morning in a sweat, to my surprise, my fever and the last of my injuries were being tended to by a kind and knowledgeable stranger, with a name I didn't catch (it sounded foreign to my ears). I learned that the pounding I heard in my nightmare was not the destruction of our defenses, but rather the sound of my comrade survivors hammering together more boards and barricades.

Later this afternoon, the stranger accompanied me in a fruitless search of the offices for supplies. We found some working scientific equipment, but only more of what we already had in surplus - DNA extractors and GPS units. Explanation for the uninitiated: The former are useful for cataloguing tissue samples; not much use to the average citizen, but very handy for those of us in the scientific community. The latter, of course, will report the handler's coordinates within the city.

The stars are out tonight, and the city is not quiet.

Bad News for the Military

Regarding barricades withstanding "repeated battering by a teeming hostile mob": someone at the hospital claimed that that's exactly what the city's armories are facing. I should not have been surprised to hear it; figure that some people (read: Americans favoring their Second Amendment) will tend to want to be near guns in times of emergency. They congregate, then they give off a large heat signature and a cloud of body odor -- en masse -- and finally they become the proverbial "fish in a barrel".

I do not really wish for such detachment when discussing people being trapped and then overrun. Is it my scientific training kicking in, or am I becoming numb to the horror?

Pleased to Report Success

This is Natalya reporting from the city of Malton.

A fellow survivor and I completed a successful supply run to and from the nearby hospital today. Patched myself up, some, and helped a passing stranger who had been injured by a flare. I am once again in the NT office complex mentioned previously, this time with a little first aid to offer and some additional reading material. Am pleased/relieved to report that both buildings (here and the hospital) have more than sufficient defenses against most amateur, lone assaults. Am not eager to see them tested against, say, repeated assault by a teeming hostile mob...

I've Seen Better Days

"One foot in the hole, one foot gettin' deeper, crank it to eleven and blow another speaker. And I ain't got, I ain't got much to lose." -- Song coming from a survivor's battery-operated(?) music player here

Stupid, stupid, stupid. I risked a quick trip to a nearby tower to try to survey the perimeter of the hospital I plan to get supplies from. That I am not one of military background became obvious, as I grew fatigued rapidly, and barely made it back here, to this NecroTech auxiliary office, before blacking out completely.

Shortly after I came to, I found some newcomers were bracing some doors that I could have sworn were already fortified. One of them explained that there had been an attack while I was out, but it was over and nothing got in that wasn't supposed to. I'm told I was lucky.

And the Sky is a Hazy Shade...

Curse this plague! And whoever or whatever brought it upon us.

I am rested, but still feel hazy. Diagnosis: blood loss? Need medical attention. Rifled through various desks and shelves in this laboratory today, but found nothing usable. A book, some old newspapers ... on second thought, perhaps I will save those to read later, should I need a good soporific or anaesthetic.

Found some ammo, useless to me, but am keeping it out of sight for now, away from our local happy gunslinger. No need to fuel his fire, I say. Is that selfish of me? Or merely sensible? How can I know he won't turn and use the ammo on those of us who are injured but still consumers of supplies? I know this much: I would not want to be in his shoes if he shoots us all and leaves the bodies inside.

Malton Survival, 2

This is a continuation of my earlier thoughts. Will need to be brief, as per usual.

Most of us in here are scientists, lab employees, though I'm not sure about one of the wounded, and I know one of the healthy men is military, or ex-military, from the deliberate way he handles his gun, and also how he seems to bark when he speaks. He seems uninterested in helping us so far. I wonder if we're all just casualties waiting to happen, statistics, by his mindset.

I must force myself to conserve energy for a while. Recuperate for a day or so. Hard to rely on the kindness of others these days. If nobody else helps us within that time, we will still need hospital supplies. My arm may be injured, but I can still run.

Malton Survival

They hurt me today. Caught me off guard as I was running from a well-barricaded lab to a nearby hospital for supplies. Cornered me in a schoolyard near the hospital, three of them. Not human. I escaped, but only by running away from the hospital. Now I am back in the stronghold I set out from, with six other survivors, two of them also wounded.

I had hoped to be swift and lucky enough to fetch first aid kits to help my comrades, but now it would seem I am the one in most desperate need of aid.

More to write, soon. Need to change some bandages.

The State of Things Today

Another day with no mass communication. Without a shepherd, the sheep will panic.

Looting is rampant. The sounds of gunfire and violence fill the streets. Survivalists. Vigilantes. Plain, scared folks just trying to defend themselves. And ... something else, something fearful. The civilians and military fear because they do not know, cannot understand what the dread things are that shamble in the streets. I fear because, as a scientist, I know the answers all too well ...