My hours during the day in between classes is dominated perpetually by paranoia. Behind every corner is a possible zed waiting to nom me. Every person I see in the distance is a possible threat to my very existence. Even the guys and girls I go zed-hunting with could be turned and possibly come after me. To echo a gigantic, upcoming film: "Trust no one."
It's getting hard to keep track of what's been going on. Campus has been a whirlwind of undead and human activity. The following is my record of what's happened starting from 9 AM Oct. 19 to 1:30 PM Oct. 20. I hope I'll be able post again later tonight for Day 3.
Day 2 started at 9 AM. I woke up and immediately began to wonder whether or not there were zombies waiting outside. Heading out, I kept my fingers tightly wrapped around Vera, my trusty Maverick, one finger always near the trigger.
I got to Bentley safely, attended class, then prepared for the next trek to Walter Hall. I'd have to cross the bridge on Richland Ave. and I'd seen zombie activity there the night before. However, despite a few curious looks, I managed to reach Walter without seeing a single bogey.
After class in Walter, I rendezvoused with a member of my team from last night and we had lunch. Let me emphasize again. Vigilance is key; laxity kills. Everybody we passed was a possible zed and I'm sure both of us were really wishing for eyes in the back of our heads.
We went home after another class and stayed in until 6 PM. Ten minutes before 6 PM, we headed out again to pick up a friend in College Green then head Uptown for the mission. Once the full team was assembled, we went looking for the injured man, located somewhere in the alleyways across from Bentley Hall.
|The injured man who mysteriously has not become infected... yet|
There were already teams at the location when we reached it and we were quickly updated of the situation. The man in question needed medicine that was hidden across all of Uptown. Our team joined another group and we searched the surrounding alleys for an hour and a half. Our search was futile; the bottles could have been hidden everywhere.
We returned to the rally point, where the injured man was located. Apparently, other teams had better luck finding the bottles than we did. They had already located two, but respawn (the inactive zombies become active again on the hour) was imminent. We needed to shore up defenses just in case the horde descended on us.
My team was placed at the end of an alleyway watching the street. We held that position from about 6:30 to 7:15. We saw a few zombies scouting the edges of our positions, testing our nerves and the defenses. However, they did not launch their assault.
|A member of my team, Matt, where we were holding our positions|
The last bottle was brought back around 7:15 and the injured man (I never caught his name) told us he felt much better. Honestly, I didn't trust him the entire time he was there. What if he had turned right there? What if the strike team hadn't returned in time? Since he was reacting differently to the infection, if he had been turned, he could have become something a lot worse. What if a special zombie had erupted right in the middle of all the assembled human squads. Casualties would have been enormous.
Luckily, things went well for the humans and we broke up into smaller groups to hunt the zombies scattered across campus. I returned home for a breather, but I headed back out at 10 PM. I reunited with my team and we scouted College Green for zombies.
A group of humans had sighted several inactives massing on College Green. We suspected some sort of trap, so we moved into positions where we could watch the horde. Right before respawn hit, the inactives fled the green, going directly west down Union St. We pursued, going down the parallel President St. That's where we ran into Team JCON.
Their leader informed me that they were setting up an ambush with Red Team for the horde. I was impressed. They looked more than ready to take on zed. Most of them were armed with Raiders, some Recons and Stampedes. They also had walkie-talkies to keep in touch with their many squads. Military -- they must have thought we resistance fighters were in the way.
We never saw the horde. Apparently, teams of humans had hit the zombies on University on the other side of College Green. The zombies were cut down in a storm of Nerf darts. The gathered humans I was with dispersed to hunt the few remaining survivors.
Members of my team left for the night, leaving only Matt and I. We joined other survivors and went on a long-range patrol to West Green. We saw very little zed action, but still, the tenseness remained. On West Green we met up with another patrol, who told us that the majority of the horde had dispersed for the night. Disappointment among my patrol was evident. A lot of us hadn't seen very much action that night and we were eager to whet our appetites with zed head.
We returned to College Green and there I overheard a conversation between the mysterious G-Man and Team JCON. The dossiers detailing the virus and its effects were to be dispersed throughout the campus that night. We had very little clues, but we knew that if they fell into zombie hands, serious consequences would ensue.
Matt and I joined up with some veteran survivors at 12 AM and we began our search for the dossiers. There was very little zombie activity at that hour, but we were still cautious. None of us wanted to be turned. We made our way from College Green down to the triangle between Baker Center, Porter Hall, and Grover Center. We learned there was a dossier hidden there.
Members of Team JCON were searching there too, but they didn't seem too keen on sharing their findings with us. I sensed a sort of hostility between them and us. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was as if they suspected us of trying to "steal their glory." Honestly, I couldn't care less which strike team found these dossiers. I just didn't want the zombies finding them.
I ended my night of zed hunting at 1 AM after it became clear that the zombies weren't going to descend on us. Matt and I returned to Fenzel, congratulating each other on surviving another night.
In the past two days, there's been a scarcity of zombies and it became very evident today when the human teams were cutting down the zombies in droves. Every survivor was hungry for their own slice of the glory. I'm not really sure where the numbers of the horde is at as of this moment, but I am sure they are growing. I'm afraid that if we humans grow too overconfident, they may just take us by surprise. The next ambush we plan could be turned right against us. It only takes a dozen more zombies than expected.
The shared cause of survival that binded the humans together on the first night also seems to be dissolving. Factionalism between the strike teams is starting to show beneath the fabric of unity. This disunion could also contribute to our downfall.
Humans, stick together. That doesn't mean group up into giant packs of twelve or fifteen, but it means that our squads should still be looking out for each other. We don't need LaMoEs (Last Men on Earth). Hunt in groups of six or seven; it's more efficient that way and you'll lure in more zombies. But work together. It's the only chance we've got to survive.