Tag Archives: Military

15th June

Reluctantly, Adam and I hit the road again today, and we’re some way down the road, about a quarter of the way back to the chemistry lab.

It took some doing, tearing ourselves away from a nice comfortable army base, with its 10 foot high fences, virtually unlimited weapons, and crates of food.  Still, we had promised the Doc we’d return to him with what we could.

The biggest dilemma was how to get more than what we could carry in our backpacks back to the lab.  That was soon solved when we found the golf carts. One was kitted out with a flat-bed on the back and we loaded this up with plenty of ammo, weapons and food, but then came the issue of the 6 years of dormancy slowly draining the batteries dead.

We discovered the generator – a huge, green metal box with an exhaust chimney sticking out the top.  A bit of tinkering and swearing and kicking later and it was up and chuffing out black smoke, coughing and choking on overaged diesel.  Once running with some semblance of normalcy, it was generating power and I plugged in the cart to charge up for a few hours.

We’ve long since scooped up all of the bodies and had a mass bonfire some way from the barracks.  This was a solid day’s work, but made the place a little more bearable.

So we’re on the road now.  Thankfully this electric buggy is quiet enough that we can zip along without attracting too much attention. We’re spending the night off the road and in a culvert under the road where things are slightly more defendable than being exposed out on the road.  We’ve got the food, we’ve got the ammo, we just need to make it through a few more nights out in the open again before we’re back at the lab and safe once more.

Hold it, I hear something…

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Posted by on 15 June in Zombie Philes


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9th June

We’ve spent a couple of nights here now. We both feel safe behind the fence. Well, if a bunch of undead soldiers couldn’t find their way out for six years, what’s to say any will find their way in any time soon? Still, we check the perimeter just to be on the safe side.

Adam loves the short confidence course the soldiers must have used to keep fit. Some of the logs and climbs are a bit too high for him, but it’s the next best thing to a jungle gym for the poor chap.

We’ve got food here, in the way of expired dry rations. We’ve got security behind the fence. And to top it all off, we’ve got a truck load of weapons and ammo. Now, if only we could find a way to get this lot back to the Doc for his all new and improved inventions.

No hurry though, think we’ll stick it out a few more days and see what cunning plan I can come up with to get some of this food and ammo back to the chemical lab.

It’s nice to feel safe again, even if it is for a short time.

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Posted by on 9 June in Zombie Philes


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7th June

It was Adam who made me think of the idea when he reminded me that the 12 foot high fence looked like the killing cage back in Sanctuary, that town all those weeks back. There they allowed the walkers to stumble into a cage, and then from the safety of the other side of the fence they just poked holes in their brains.

We spent most of this afternoon making a wide circumference of the perimeter fence to make sure there weren’t any holes or gates left open. Everything looks buttoned up pretty tight. The latch on the gate clipped it shut when it swung back into place from the spring attached, and any Living could easily unclip it to get in. Fortunately the snotties on the other hand don’t have the mental capacity to get around this wee conundrum.

As we broke cover and made for the fence out in the open they spotted us and started getting all excitable and dribbly. The first few were no bother, and Adam took up his usual position of watching our backs for a rear ambush as I poked the sharp end of a crow bar through the fence into the brain stem of each of them in turn. They simply didn’t care when their fellow comrades in arms (and in some cases, without arms) fell dead again at their feet. They purely focused on getting at me and Adam through the fence, completely oblivious to the fate awaiting them at the end of the high tensile bar in my hands.

All their shuffling and shaking of the fence to get to us attracted more and more of the blighters. I had to move up and down the fence as the piles of corpses on the ground were stopping others getting close enough to the fence for me to poke in the head. Despite the one or two books I read, or was it movies I saw, on zombies, the ones in real life don’t moan and groan. They are silent, and this is the most dangerous thing about them. Yes, they make one heck of a racket, as the ones did today, when there is something in their way and they’re trying to get at fresh meat, but no noises actually come from their mouths. That is unless you count the gurgling and slobbering you sometimes hear. But I put this down to excess bodily juices, not actual vocal capabilities.

As the numbers dwindled, Adam and I made our way towards the gate. I let Adam shoot the last couple. In this way he got a bit of target practice, and the noise would attract any stragglers from inside the compound. We had to be extra vigilant though as it would also attract anything from outside the compound too.

The clean up inside the compound was pretty straightforward. It appeared that only one guy had remained indoors when it all went down as there was nobody behind locked doors. There was one guy in the john though. He was stuck in a cubicle. We carefully let him out, ready to dispatch him and he just fell on his face. The rotting trousers around his ankles tripped him up. A chop to the back of the head ensured he stayed there and we were done. Adam and I looked at one another after that and just about wet ourselves over the poor blighter’s situation. Still, we were in the right room if we did come close to wetting ourselves.

We’ve found a load of expired dry rations and some semi comfortable cots to bunk down in tonight. It all got a bit too late to scavenge much more in the dark before we had to lock ourselves down for the evening.

All up, a good day’s work and more vitamins from the meal we just had than we’ve had in a long time. Excellent.

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Posted by on 7 June in Zombie Philes


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30th April

I helped out repairing and constructing new barricades for the front entrance today. Thankfully no zombies had followed the distraught mother into the town, or they followed her back out again if they did. Without the barricades in place we would be reliant upon the front gates to keep them at bay.

Firing a weapon at night is to be used as a last resort as the sound will travel for miles, bouncing off the surrounding hills and inviting any number of unwanted visitors.

With the barricades back in place again, I saw the genius behind their use at night. By shepherding the stupid wanderers into a fenced corral at the end of the road, the zombies have no way to get into the town. They either turn around and shamble back out of Dodge again, or they remain there bouncing off the fences until the morning shift go in and pick them off from the safety of the other side of the fence. The bodies are carried away on the back of a pickup to be burnt on the huge piles of corpses dotted about on the outskirts of town. Those are the plumes of smoke I saw the other day when approaching the town.

I assume this ingenuity comes from the brain of the sergeant, or some field manual he has, “The Man’s Man Manual for Dealing with the Dead” or “Dummies Guide to Community Living in a Zombie Apocalypse”, or what’s-his-name’s “Art of War”. Either way, he’s got it all sussed here and seems to be in for the long haul.

I’m still in two minds as to whether I want to stick around for much longer. As peaceful as it is, and the fact that I hadn’t had a decent sleep, meal or shower since this all kicked off seven years ago until coming here aside. For some reason there is an itch at the back of my mind that I need to move on. That Adam and I are not quite as safe as when there’s only the two of us. Stay on the move. Never settle.

This place is a big platter of warm, wriggling meat for the slovs, albeit surrounded in prickly wire and guys with boom sticks, but a sure target for a band of wily zombies all the same. Just look at our last setup five years ago. We let our guard down for one night and get annihilated.

Again, I have to think of Adam, but I am thinking of him when I feel we need to move on.

Just one more night perhaps…

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Posted by on 30 April in Zombie Philes


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29th April

The first real threat to the township came last night.

Down the first couple of streets that lead to the main gate, they have thermal cameras set up to watch for movement in the night, and during the day they can tell infected from Living just by the heat given off by the dead from the continual fever.

During the night there are barricades which are moved around so that any undead get funnelled away from the main gate and towards another fenced off section where they can be easily picked off in the morning.

Last night an SUV came barrelling into the town and towards the movable barriers. Basically a series of planks nailed to form an X with poles laid across and coils of barbed wire wrapped around, they’re good enough to deter both the dead and the Living from attempting to cross them, but an SUV barrelling in at 50 miles an hour barely slows when it hits one of those.

I hear all this as I’m doing a final walk around in the fresh air before grabbing Adam and retiring to our room on the fourth floor of one of the buildings for the night.

So this car thunders in and tears up the barricades and screeches to a halt when they reach the front Iron gates. Especially when half a dozen armed guys in full riot gear swam out like angry termites.

Driving the car is a terrified woman who looks like she had the Hounds of Hades on her tail. In the passenger seat, slumped to one side and looking the worse for wear is who I assume is her teenage son.

So the camp guards race out and surround the car. A couple take up positions further down the road where the car has wrecked the barricades to see if any slovs have followed her in. She jumps out of the car screaming for somebody to help her son.

Turns out the father had been grabbing some supplies in a shop in a nearby town while the kid kept watch and she kept the motor running. The father was ambushed inside the shop which he didn’t realise had the back door open. The kid ran in to rescue him, only to find his father’s throat had already been torn out and was, at that very moment, dribbling down the chin of some ex-school run mum. The kid backtracks back to the car only to be set upon and bitten before he gets away and into the SUV. The mother, beside herself, knowing she is going to be on her own in a few hours time with her zombie kid sitting next to her if she doesn’t get some help then drives hell for leather in a random direction and stumbles across this tranquil community just settling down to bedy byes time.

So the sergeant comes storming out of his ground floor office-cum-home and demands to know what all the hullabaloo is (yes, he actually used the word hullabaloo) and gives her the ultimatum we all get when we first come here: If you’re bitten, or somebody with you is bitten, you have the choice of leaving with them and taking your chances elsewhere, allowing the bitten person the dignity of shooting themselves or choosing somebody to shoot them if they’re unable. If none of the aforementioned are chosen in time, the decision will be made for you.

With that she bursts into tears, looks at her son and climbs back into the urban tractor and turns around. She drove off dragging a string of barbed wire and half a barricade with her, never to be seen again.

Me, I turned to Adam who had been watching, completely unfazed by it all, and we trundled off to our room where I tucked him in and asked how his day had been.

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Posted by on 29 April in Zombie Philes


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27th April

So what do we make of this new community, Adam and I?

Well, Adam is loving it. It is the first time I have really seen him smile in a long time. Well, I’ve seen him smile, and even laugh before. But never in his eyes. His eyes always have that weariness. Something you should never have to see in a nearly six year old. He has been through too much. Seen too much. Perhaps a while in this place will do him good.

The community of Sanctuary is made up of some 100 to 120 people, from all corners of the country (and a few foreigners stuck here when the outbreak took hold and they were unable to return home), from all walks of life and all races, creeds and denominations. All thrown together in one big melting pot where everybody is the same – a survivor. One of the Living.

Most have fought their way to get here. Others started here and have barely seen the horrors out there.

The leader of the place, a burly ex-marine sergeant keeps the pace humming along, and his band of lackeys run about doing his bidding. He has teams allocated to guard duty, others running scouting parties to reccie the undead’s movements in the area. Others are responsible for supplies such as fuel for the generators, food, and any other necessities of a growing community.

I’ve put my name down to help out in any of the above if we are to stay here for a while.

I’m pretty keen to keep moving after what happened to the last “community” I belonged to, and I really want to track down what’s left of that research lab to see if there is any hope of this zombie nightmare coming to an end any time soon, but I’ve got to think of the kid first.

He’s finally relaxing and not jumping at the slightest sound in the night. There are a couple of other kids here too which he has started to latch on to. And for me, I can finally let him wander off, comfortable in the knowledge that he’s safe at last.

I’ll give this a few days and see how things pan out.

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2nd August

Well, we made it, in case you hadn’t guessed. That was hell on Earth though. It was like some kind of surreal video game.

The convoy came barrelling out of the camp like a runaway locomotive. The Slovs didn’t take too kindly to their prey escaping and came flooding out of the towns like locusts, running out on to the road and lurching at us from all sides. The 50 cals (big ass machineguns) on the back of each humvee blasted them to paste and the trucks rolled right over anything that got in the way. For my part, I took the odd pot-shot out the back of the covered truck I was sitting in, but don’t think I hit much. The fuel tankers bore the worst of it, not being armed and not having the wheels to squish bodies that easily. Still, they made it through intact. One of the humvees near the back lost its gunner to a Slov that managed to climb up on top and haul him out. Hope the poor sod had the forethought to bite a bullet before they turned him into an afternoon picnic.

So, like I say, we got here in the end. Not much to report once we were past the first couple of townships hosting the snotty conventions. After that it was plain sailing until we got to the small airport in Cornwall. By the time we got here the gunships and troops from the ‘choppers that had set out that morning had secured the area and the civvies were making themselves at home in the airport sheds (not really a terminal as it is military, but keeps the rain off).

So here we are. A couple of missions out to the neighbouring houses to ensure there were no surprises out there for us and we hunkered down for the night, ready to start making plans for our new home tomorrow. Bet those Slovs are pissed they didn’t strike earlier.

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Posted by on 2 August in Zombie Philes


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