Journal:Son of Uborkapete

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Son of Uborkapete
Starting Occupation: Necrotech Lab Assistant
Group Membership: Yagoton Revivification Clinic
Goals: Establishing a revivification clinic
Username: Uborkapete
More details: Urban Dead profile

July 2009

Wed 01

A few weeks back, I reported for my duties at the clinic after a skirmish which left me badly affected. I could not understand why my appearance was causing such a stir. Everyone was embracing me and welcoming me back. "But, I only saw you this morning!" I protested. There was a pregnant pause, and then I was surrounded by laughter. When people finally managed to recover their breath, they told me why their reaction had been thus; evidently I had spent some time in that limbo state between life and undeath. Usually people remain in the limbo state (which, once upon a time, would have been called "death", but the term no longer seems apposite) for a few hours, rarely more than a day. For me, it had been years. The other clinicians had assumed that I would never rise again.

My journal was not where I left it, but while searching for syringes, I was fortunate enough to find it in a filing cabinet.

The project is currently being impeded by an influx of the violent undead. They are a wandering group, and will soon move on. For now, I'm trying to keep a safe distance, with mixed success.

December 2005

Tue 06

I foolishly left my notebook behind when I went out west. It was reasonably uneventful out there, and Caiger Mall has quietened down a lot too.

I'm back at the clinic now, and I've bumped into my half-brother, who I haven't seen in years. He's offered to help out at the clinic, as a kind of penance for events that took place a long time ago between us that I really don't want to drag up again. I'm not sure if I can stand to remain in the same place as him for long. I mean, I appreciate him helping out, but it's just too uncomfortable. I understand that the mobile phone network is still pretty shaky in some suburbs - I think I could be of some help with that.

November 2005

Tue 29

I've had a reply from my dad! I'm absolutely ecstatic! He said that he's okay and he's in a very quiet bit of town, and I don't need to worry about him.

Flytrample head out west this morning to establish a secondary revivification clinic - I shall be following him this evening, once I've had a text message from him giving the all clear. I'm going to take along some other clinicians as well, as we might need the help, and it is quiet round here.

It's going to be a highly dangerous mission, as we will be within spitting distance of Caiger Mall, which is heavily infested with violent specimens at present. However, our main reason for going there is to help out the Liberation of Crossman Department, who helped us out when things were looking rough last week.

Thu 24

Things have quietened down a bit at the clinic. This morning I checked up on it, and found about a dozen customers inside, and about three times as many outside. I reminded the customers outside that they should stay inside if possible, as it is much safer there.

I performed a couple of revivifications, and also encountered a seriously degraded and heavily armoured zombie who would not have been a suitable candidate for revivification, and was clearly in the wrong place. It took many blasts with the shotgun, but I was eventually able to put him down.

I've got a mobile phone signal for the first time in ages. I've sent a text to my dad's phone, on the off-chance that he still has it on him. No reply yet.

Mon 21

I have been back at work the clinic for a few days, and the outlook appears promising. Though there are still a dangerous number of zombies around, we are dealing with them in a well-organised manner and hopefully we should soon have restored order to the proceedings. My bag is getting too heavy for me these days - what with emergency first-aid kits, revivification syringes and all my ammunition, if I tried to carry any more I think I'd fall over.

Tomorrow it will have been a fortnight since I received news of my father's death. I am trying to keep a positive outlook. I tell myself that surely ours is not the only revivification clinic in the city, and I hope that my father had the sense to seek one out and obtain treatment. But then, surely if that was the case, I would have received a letter from him by now. Maybe he doesn't want to be revived.

As soon as my duties here permit me, I am going to go off and find him. The city is huge, but I will not rest until I have succeeded. I hope that he would do the same for me.

Wed 16

I must have been sleepwalking, or something similar, because I woke up outside the clinic today, with no idea of how I got there. And I wasn't in good shape either - I was badly injured, and I felt a grogginess that made me weaker and weaker with every step that I took. As I looked around, I could see zombies in every direction, and their attention had been attracted by my movement. I moved away from the clinic, and lashed out with my axe at the nearest specimen. As the others surrounded me and started to claw at me, common sense prevailed and I made good my escape.

Fortunately, I had the appropriate compounds in my first-aid kit to be able to halt the infection to which I attribute the grogginess. I have managed to locate Flytrample - hopefully he has the necessary equipment to patch up my wounds.

I have no intention of abandoning Yagoton - once I am back in full health, I will return to my clinic duties.

Mon 14

There are lots of zombies around at the moment. We seem to be under some sort of coordinated attack, but we're holding them off. I killed another one of them today. I also had a chance to use my pistol for the first time. It's nowhere near as much fun as the shotgun, but it's good for getting off six shots in quick succession. I have a couple of spare clips in my bag.

Once this attack blows over, I think I might head south to find my father. I know it's dangerous down there, but I can't bear not knowing, and it's not exactly safe round here.

Thu 10

Attacked one of the zombies with my axe today. Finished him off with a shotgun blast. It felt good.

Tue 08

Uborkapete letter.jpg

Mon 07

The number of wounded survivors around Yagoton this morning is terrifying - I spent the entire morning tending to the doctors who work at the clinic. I tried to probe gently for some information on what had happened to cause such mass injury, but I got the impression that it was a delicate subject, so I didn't press too hard.

I've also been receiving firearms tuition. The intention is that when I discover an unrevivable specimen at the clinic, I'll be able to despatch with it myself, without needing to run off and find some soldier to do it for me.

I checked up on the queue at the clinic and it is very short indeed - practically non-existent. There do seem to be a lot of survivors inside the clinic, but I couldn't get close enough to ask them what they were doing there. Perhaps they were doctors on duty, perhaps they were fools who don't realise how easily tempted the specimens are by the presence of uninfected humans, or perhaps they were customers who had stood up too soon after treatment and found themselves without the energy to move to a safer location.

Flytrample has raised the issue with me of post-revivification convalescence. We came to the decision that it is not wise to put all the badly-injured people in one building together - to the specimens, it would look like a lunchbox. It's better that we spread them out. We have lots of well qualified doctors who are capable of realising who is badly injured, and treating them accordingly. We also have a few rookies, who tend to wait until they hear some poor bastard moaning "My eyes!" or "I can't feel my legs!" or "Get these unicorns off of me!"

I understand that Wicky has been doing a great job - word of our clinic seems to have spread around the entire city. Hopefully it's made it as far as my father. I can imagine him now, excitedly telling people "That's my son! Just like me, always cool in a crisis."

Actually, I'm a tiny bit concerned. Normally he writes me a letter on Saturdays, but I didn't get one this weekend. Hopefully it's nothing - maybe he just ran out of paper, or ink. But then, he would have known that he was running out last week, and would have mentioned it. Unless he needed the paper or ink for some emergency reason during the week. Perhaps the messenger encountered problems en route. That's a bit more likely, I suppose. I'll try not to worry too much - I'm sure that a letter will arrive this coming Sunday, and then I'll feel foolish for getting all panicked about nothing.

Thu 03

The plan which I detailed here the other day has proven to be unnecessary - the queue at the clinic seems to now be well under control. Flytrample says that the doctors in the nearby NecroTech building are doing an excellent job of organising themselves.

This leaves me feeling a little surplus to requirements, actually. The clinic is pretty much running itself. Having performed my duty here, I'm contemplating moving on to a neighbouring suburb and setting up a clinic there. I've been in Yagoton for a long time now, and I've got a very good mental map of the place, so it would be a shame to render all that experience worthless, but I'm not sure if I'm really needed here anymore. But then, am I really needed anywhere, particularly?

It's been flabbergasting to see the change in Flytrample. Since the outbreak, he's totally transformed. He is so much more capable now, the sort of guy that you're really willing to put your life in the hands of.

I've got a half-brother somewhere in the city. Sometimes I wonder what he is up to.

October 2005

Mon 31

One of my assistants informs me that the queue at the clinic is the shortest that it has been for some time, which is something of a reassurance. However, we didn't envisage that our customers would take as long to recover from their surgery as they appear to be doing - there are currently a lot of weak helpless bodies littering the place. They don't require any special treatment or care, but they make the place look untidy, and they also lie completely pale and inert like a dead body - we all know what happens to dead bodies around here.

Perhaps this is why I haven't been spending much time around the clinic in the last few days. I've dropped in once or twice, but no more than is necessary.

I have a rather nifty new plan though, which will require some co-ordination with my fellow clinic workers. Though syringes are hard to come by, they can be found if you are willing to invest the time and effort. I intend to spend a lot of time searching for these syringes, and building up a supply that will be sufficient to revive every single specimen at the clinic, if necessary. I know, this will take a long time, but it will be worth it.

I will then go to the clinic myself and perform the necessary tests on every specimen in there to see if they are eligible for revivification. Eligible is perhaps the wrong word - our data leads us to believe that it is more a question of willingness on the part of the specimen. Sounds a bit crazy, but I'll explain it in more detail at a later date.

Any specimens that are willing to be revived, I shall revive there and then. Once this step has been performed, I will notify my military contact, who will send in a squad of soldiers to dispose of the remainder.

Wed 26

After the events of yesterday morning, I decided that having lugged this hefty axe around for the best part of the month, it was about time that I figured out how to use it. I woke up mid-morning and went for a wander through the building looking for a mentor. This strange looking man with a greying beard observed my situation, and offered his services. For twelve hours straight we trained - he taught me about how to hold the axe, how to swing in such a way as to make the axe's weight do all the hard work, thus allowing me to fight for longer without tiring. He chalked a drawing of humanoid form onto the wall and showed me where to strike, depending upon the desired effect.

This morning he woke me up early, and took me up to the rooftop. It was so peaceful up there, I wanted to stay. No sound of traffic, and very little birdsong. I would have been able to forget the existence of the rampaging specimens, were it not for the occasional "Braains" circling up through the alleyways, and the sporadic five-minute bursts of handgun fire. We sat for a while and considered our situtions. We shared our histories with eachother, and I discovered that this man had known my father when they were boys. He asked me if I had heard anything from my father lately, and I said no, not for weeks. He asked if I had considered going in search of him, but I replied that I couldn't leave the clinic, and there'd be plenty of time for reunion when all this was over. The bearded guy chuckled, and observed that that is exactly the kind of thing that the young man would say in the old black and white war films just a few hours before his fighter plane was shot down by enemy fire. I didn't laugh. I felt too stupid.

Then the bearded guy said that it was time to go back inside, as my training was nearly complete. And when I took my axe in my hand that morning, I felt a change come over me. Whereas yesterday I had been fighting against the axe, struggling against its weight and its peculiar balance, the axe now seemed to be fighting with me. It followed my thoughts, swinging gracefully and smoothly. I was astonished into silence.

"That's your axe now," said the bearded man, "don't go losing it."

I nodded dumbly.

He offered to prepare us a flask of coffee. I accepted. When, after half an hour, he hadn't yet returned, I went to the kitchen to see what was keeping him. I discovered two mugs with instant coffee granules and sugar poured into them, but no sign of the man. Which was slightly spooky, because he'd definitely said "flask".

Tue 25

I am a fool. I couldn't sleep, so I went out for a walk, to catch some air and clear my head. In my groggy state, I lost my bearings, and found myself walking headlong into a crowd of zombies.

As they closed in around me, I panicked and my vision blurred. I recall the feeling of their teeth sinking into my flesh, the piercing pain coming from all directions. I resigned myself to death.

But my salvation came in the form of Shadai. As consciousness returned, I saw him standing over me, bandaging my wounds with a skill the like of which I have never witnessed, the zombie horde despatched. "Get inside as soon as possible" he hissed impatiently. I nodded, briefly lost consciousness again, and when I woke he was gone.

I am inside now, in the safety of a crowd, and deeply humbled.

Sat 22

I returned to the clinic today after having spent a few days up North obtaining first-aid kits from the Mall. Those stubborn fools are still there, barricading the clinic and making it impossible for our customers to enter. Flytrample is aware of the situation and is dealing with it.

I must have blacked out shortly after that, because I woke to find myself being attacked by a zombie. My left arm and right leg are covered in bites, and they are oozing pus. It's revolting. Fortunately, I managed to drag myself indoors with my last ounce of strength. There are a few other survivors, and I am hoping one of them will take it upon themselves to help me out. Failing that, I'll wait until my strength has returned and tend to my own wounds.

This is a new situation for me to find myself in. I'm still trying to come to terms with it. I feel... violated.

Thu 20

I popped into the clinic today on my way to stock up on supplies. You can't imagine my surprise when I saw a group of dumb-looking survivors, wrapped up in blankets, staring at their newly-built barricades whilst sat underneath a sign saying "Do not barricade this clinic". I shook my head in disbelief and went on my way - they won't last long. When you've got a horde of 20 specimens outside desperately seeking revivification, they'll make mincemeat of that barricade in no time. You should not underestimate the desire of some of these creatures to be returned to the living.

From what information we can obtain, it seems that a couple of dozen operations are occurring in the clinic daily. Unfortunately, the information that we do have is very sketchy, and extrapolating from it may be folly.

I also came across a gentleman on my travels who refers to himself as "Wicky". He offered his assistance, so I asked him what his forte was. He replied, "information is my business." I told him the basics of our operation, and asked him if he would be able to spread the word. He smiled and lowered his tinted glasses. His deep blue eyes pierced me over the top of the frames. "Like taking candy from a baby," he said.

I have absolutely no idea how he was planning to achieve it, but he looked confident, and his price was most reasonable.

Tue 18


Oh, the news is splendid today. Everything seems to be going according to plan. Whilst walking round the streets, I have overheard people talking about our clinic on a couple of occasions. I'm over the moon! I was worried that some survivors (either through idiocy, malice or illiteracy) would use our customers for target practise, which would earn the clinic a bad name, but this doesn't seem to be happening.

This morning I went over to the clinic to count the number of customers. There are still a lot of customers there - 12 when I counted - all waiting patiently in line at the back of the church. I explored the interior thoroughly, between the pews, inside the pulpit, and all the way up to the belfry. I counted 33 bodies, all of which appeared to have been revived last night, but not yet reawakened. One of which was Flytrample - I can only imagine the horrors which he has endured since we last spoke three days ago.

It has occurred to me that there are a couple more tasks that I should add to my list of duties. Firstly, I need to set up some sort of message board in the clinic so that I can keep track of how much it is being used. Obviously, I can't afford to hire people to check all customers and doctors, so it would need to be a list that people sign voluntarily. It would be reassuring to know that the clinic is proving useful, though this is probably more a matter of massaging my own ego than improving the quality of service.

Secondly, it seems that our customers are very weak post-revivification. We may need to establish a second clinic to allow these people to recuperate before sending them back out into the dangerous world. There is a school next door which may be suitable for our causes. I might post a message in the nearby hospital so that the surgeons there are aware of the existence of our operation. I have so much that I need to say, and so little wall space to spray it on!

Sat 15

I got some spray cans and checked all the nearby NecroTech buildings today. None of my existing adverts had been overwritten yet, which is a big relief. I also added some adverts to buildings that I hadn't yet visited.

The clinic is quite busy inside - there are nine customers and two survivors who have decided that a revivification clinic is a good place to spend the night. I was horrified, but I guess that if people are going to do such damn stupid things, then it's their own lookout. I've got too much to do to go around mothering everybody.

I've asked Flytrample to keep an eye on the clinic too. It's hard to know how successful the clinic is, because there's no way of telling the difference between a revived specimen who walked off, and a specimen which got bored waiting for revivification and headed off in search of brains.

I stole a guy's shoes today. He didn't have any further use for them, and mine were falling apart from all this walking. Does this make me a barbarian?

Fri 14

Flytrample and I have been out spreading the word about the clinic. It's very difficult finding syringes - at this stage, I think that my time is better spent trying to recruit as many people as possible. There are a couple of NecroTech buildings in Brooke Hills that I want to visit, but first I need more spray cans. I've got a huge stash of petrol - I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it yet, but it seems useful.

I also need to head back to the clinic to see what's going on there - I've been so busy getting the message out, that I haven't looked inside it for days. Unless I have someone permanently stationed there, keeping logs of all the people who enter and leave the building, I'll never really know whether it is successful or not. It's a slightly depressing thought, that all my efforts could be being in vain. Ah well, at least it's keeping me occupied.

I've had a message from my father. It says "We've got the situation well under control round here. We see a few zombies, but we keep on top of them by sharing information and co-ordinating. I can't write too much for fear of this message getting into the wrong hands, but I just wanted you to know that I'm well and safe. Please respond. Dad."

No photo with this one.

Wed 12

I'm having my suspicions about Flytrample. I always thought he was a good guy, and on my side, but... well, I want to be careful, because casting aspersions on his character without proper evidence could leave me in big trouble, but I've been seeing certain things which are leading me to believe that Flytrample's perception of a revivification clinic is slightly different from mine. From what I see, it looks like he's sprayed "Welcome to the Yagoton Revivification Clinic" outside a barricaded church, and then waited for a crowd of specimens to arrive seeking revivification. At the point at which a decent-sized crowd of these benign creatures arrive, he throws himself into them, swinging his axe left, right and centre, decapitating and maiming like a fool. Since I observed this, he has been bringing down the aforementioned barricades so that the specimens can enter the church - I can't decide whether this contradicts what I am seeing, or if it is just the next stage in his dastardly trap.

Being next to a reviv clinic is no guarantee of safety. The nearest NecroTech building was smashed into last night by one of these creatures. A particularly strong specimen, this one's brain had degenerated to the point at which revivification would no longer be possible. Lacking the skills to incapacitate this creature, I was forced to flee the building.

I am terrified. Who can I trust?

Sun 09

I have been highly focussed on the task in hand, which is why I have not had time to write here, but my dedication has paid off. I haven't seen anything of Flytrample for days, but I am nearly ready to seek him out and set into motion our plan for the clinic.

I've been spending a lot of time in Shearbank and Millen Hills again. Yes, I know I said that I wouldn't be going back there, but I needed to remind myself what we are up against. The vast numbers of specimens roaming around there is terrifying - I am glad that I am no longer sleeping there.

I have overcome my fears, and am feeling kind of peaceful, it has to be said. The whole leaping-out-of-windows business isn't actually that hard, once you overcome your initial misgivings, and it's actually quite a pleasant sensation, though occasionally disorientating. I've also found the opportunity to have a little whirl with a spraycan, and I think I'm up to the job. Flytrample's responsibility will be to spread the word of the clinic far and wide - we've yet to decide the exact limits of our catchment area, though I anticipate that it will be quite large. My main task is to perform the actual revivifications, and to recruit some additional doctors.

All that remains is to choose a location.

Thu 06

We are training ourselves up before embarking upon our mission. Flytrample is now quite deft with the spraycan, and is out obtaining more. He's a very dedicated fellow, and I don't know where I'd be without his company.

Myself, I'm finding it a bit harder. In order to spread the word of the clinic to my fellow scientists, I need to be able to gain access to the local NecroTech buildings, inside which I believe they dwell. However, in some buildings they've done a most curious thing - they've basically moved all the furniture down to the ground floor, so that the entirety of the entrance lobby is just a block of packed metal and wood. They then get in and out of the building by jumping from the windows to an adjacent building. Which makes sense - the "zombies" (as people seem to be terming them, though I find this word offensive) can't jump, so it makes sense to exploit that weakness when planning a defensive strategy.

The upshot of all of this is that I've got to learn to jump from one building to another. And it's absolutely terrifying. I'm not in particularly good shape, so there's that hurdle to overcome to begin with. It's all just completely far-fetched, and I really don't feel like I can do it, but what choice do I have?

I wish my father were here now. He'd be able to do it with his hands tied together behind his back.

Wed 05

Flytrample and I have been reunited, and have been discussing the plan for the clinic. We have established that the specimens are able to read English cursive, so our intention is to accumulate a stockpile of spray cans for publicity purposes. We think we have a suitable location - it's a church in Yagoton - which we will annotate on the inside and the outside. We also need to leave messages inside the nearby NecroTech buildings, so that the scientists there will know that their services are required at the clinic. Additionally, we need to spray messages outside as many buildings as possible, giving directions to the clinic. These instructions will be written clearly and neatly, so as to be easily read by the specimens.

There is very limited space on the walls round here, and so we have to accept that our messages may get covered up by other peoples' remarks. The most important task that we have is to keep our message on top, especially on the inside and outside of the clinic.

We're going to need a lot of spraycans, and a lot of practise in using them. This may take some time.

Tue 04

I've been finding it hard to keep my spirits up for the last few days. Everything has been feeling so futile. But today I've received something that has given me a new cause to fight - it's a photograph of my father that has brought across town by a good samaritan, and it shows that he is alive and well!


I feel reinvigorated and purpose has been restored to my existence. I WILL establish that revivification clinic! I'm going to go out this afternoon and TAG SOME ZOMBIE ASS!

Sat 01

Last night I had an uncontrollable urge to look more fearful, so I went out after dark to the nearest fire station, and managed to net myself a fireaxe. It's mainly aesthetic at this point, but I'm hoping that its existence will make the specimens think twice before attacking me. I stayed overnight in the fire station, and one of the residents there must have observed the state of my arm and treated it while I was sleeping. I tried to thank him but the other people there told me that he already gone.

They also mentioned huge swarms of zombies forming in the next suburb over. I went over to see for myself, and I can confirm that the stories are true. I took the opportunity to collect their DNA samples - I'm confident of my ability to dodge their attacks these days.

No sign of Flytrample back at the safehouse. It's my own fault, I shouldn't have spent the night away. I have no idea where he could be, and I'd be wasting my time trying to find him in this city. I'll stay here for a while and see if he comes back.

September 2005

Fri 30

I was back out collecting DNA this morning. One of the specimens was slightly more alert than they usually are - I hadn't noticed this when I was approaching it, but as I leaned forwards to extract the sample, he took a swipe at me, and left an obscene gash on my arm. It's not particularly life-threatening - I've cleaned it up a bit, but at some point if I cross paths with a medic I might request some treatment.

I've stopped off in a pub. It's probably already been empty, but who knows - I might get lucky. I can't stay here too long because they are waiting for me back at the safehouse. I'll probably be in a position to head back at lunchtime.

Thu 29

Flytrample arrived at last, much later than I'd been expecting, and I had been getting worried about him. Two reasons for his lateness - the first being that he'd bumped into his brother back near where I'd injected him, and the second being that he'd already popped into the Mall for a look around.

This afternoon I went into the Mall to grab some first-aid kits, and then back to this suburb's NecroTech headquarters, ostensibly to see if there were any syringes available there. When I got to the building, I was prevented from entering by a solid barricade across the doors, and there were twenty dead bodies strewn around on the pavement outside. There was also one specimen who appeared to be seeking revivification, so I obliged. I'm holding one syringe back at all times, in case I ever need it for Flytrample.

For the first time in weeks, I've actually arrived back for the night and not been completely drained of energy, so perhaps this will benefit me tomorrow. If I'm still unable to enter the NecroTech headquarters, I will suggest to Flytrample that we move on. Without a supply of syringes, our chances of survival dwindle.

Wed 28 (cont'd)

I moved on today - I couldn't stand this place any more. I just had a bad feeling about here. I gave Flytrample my intended destinations in order of preference, and told him that if I'm not back in the morning, it either means that the area around the shopping mall is safe, or that I was trapped by the creatures and couldn't get out in time. In either case, he's going to follow me tomorrow morning.

A few blocks down the road, I bumped into Flytrample's brother - I can't remember his name. At that point, I suddenly was incredibly relieved that Flytrample had stayed at home - he wouldn't have wanted to see his brother in that state. I took a syringe from my dwindling stock and used it. The initial effect of the syringe is of a very strong anaesthetic, so I had to move him into a doorway as carefully as I could, trying not to vomit from the stench. I think he'll be safe, but I don't envy the headache that he'll have in the morning.

The agreed target building was too heavily barricaded to enter, as was the backup destination. Fortunately the third place on the list was slightly less impenetrable - I had to take a small detour on the journey over, and I think that if I'd had to go to the fourth place, I wouldn't have made it. I've been taken in by a couple of scientists and a third guy who I think was once a firefighter. There's a cop here as well but he looks pretty nervous.

Let's see what happens in the morning. Hopefully.

Wed 28

Rubbish day. Really really crap day. Spent ages searching for syringes and only found one, then came back here and found that the barricades were on the verge of collapse, with two specimens milling around outside looking threatening. I did what I could to repair the barricades, but I'm knackered.

If memory serves correctly, the nearest shopping mall is about seven hours' walk from here, but I've got nothing better to do, so I'm going to head over there later in the day. I think Flytrample is interested in coming along too. Once we've stocked up, we'll think about what to do next. We're not ruling out the possibility of coming back here, and certainly I expect that in our absence these two specimens will get into the building, find that it is empty, and move on. So we've got options.

I'm going to get some rest before heading out though - I want to have enough strength to reach a well-barricaded building safely.

I've had a nugget of news relating to my father - apparently he's found a large group of survivors and has offered his services. I'm glad that he's helping out those who are less fortunate than himself. I've also been worried about him going stir-crazy with loneliness, so this news comes as something of a relief.

Tue 27

Once I got going today, it was a really productive day. Firstly, I went to the nearest NecroTech lab. The doors were wide open, and there were three specimens inside. They all acknowledged my presence, but did not move to attack me - they just gently tilted their heads downwards, exposing their necks to me, and made low moaning sounds like wounded kittens.

I approached them with caution, but they did not make any sharp movements. I was absolutely terrified that this was going to be some sort of trap, but my pity for these creatures was overwhelming. I removed three syringes from my satchel and injected the specimens in turn.

I then went out on patrol into Millen Hills, to see what the situation was like there. There was a mob of about a dozen specimens outside Powlett Road PD, clearly intent upon breaking down the barricades and smashing in as soon as enough of them had accumulated. I managed to extract DNA samples from the majority of them, but I ran out of time and had to hightail it back to the safehouse. I had a couple of syringes, but it didn't feel like reviving two of them would have made any difference.

Shit, I forgot to pick up a first aid kit again. Flytrample will be furious.

Mon 26

Last night Flytrample and I compared notes, and decided on where we would be relocating to. At first light this morning we packed up our stuff and made our way over there as quickly as possible. We went by slightly different routes - Flytrample stopped off in a hospital en route to look for first-aid kits, and I went into a NecroTech lab to find some revivification syringes. I'm quite excited because I've managed to find another four. Flytrample was less successful though, which means that we'll have to spend tomorrow looking for first-aid kits too. But then on Wednesday we'll be able to get back to business.

I didn't allow myself to be too distracted by the specimens in the street today, because I knew that I needed as much time in the NecroTech lab as possible. I did encounter a few large groups and tried to take some DNA samples, but it seems that the other scientists were up before dawn this morning, and had been hard at work. There was one huge horde of the specimens tearing at the doors of a police station - I don't think I'd ever seen so many in one place before.

I've been worrying about my dad a lot today. He must be having the same difficulty obtaining ammo as I am getting revivification needles. Ah well, he's not stupid - he knows that if he has difficulty finding anything in the police departments, then no-one will object if he breaks into a gun shop. I'm sure that he can tell the difference between a gun shop and a pharmacy! I don't have that luxury, unfortunately.

I've heard some news that has given me the shakes. Apparently, the safehouse where I was residing until Thursday has been host to the most horrific slaughter. On Friday night it was attacked by a horde of about fifty deranged specimens. About 20 people were killed there that night.

I'm so glad that I left when I did. I know that it's selfish of me to say it, but I'm relieved that it wasn't me. Anyone who says there's safety in numbers is a fool, because my experience clearly states that safety lies in being small and inconspicuous, and being willing to run fast when you get that prickly feeling that things are going to turn ugly.

I finished reading my book earlier. I barely learned anything new from it, and now I've got nothing to read. Ah well, it will be dark soon.

Sun 25

It wasn't too hard to find Flytrample - I know the kinds of places towards which he gravitates. I think I probably didn't arrive a moment too soon - he was sleeping in a completely unbarricaded building. I've sorted that out now, and the place will do for a while, but we're not going to stay here for ever. We're keeping our eyes peeled for a more secure location, and I expect that we'll move tomorrow at the latest.

Plenty of untagged specimens around this morning. There are clearly some scientists still operating in this area, though not many - perhaps one or two. I'm keeping my syringe well protected in my bag - at some point I intend to spend a day in a NecroTech building in the hope that I can have a stockpile, but for now this is my emergency syringe, and I don't want to have to use it unless strictly necessary.

I've also been criticised for not carrying a first-aid kit, especially in the light of the possibility of infection from a bite wound. Next time I'm outside, I'll drop into a hospital and see what I can find.

First impressions of this suburb are positive, though I have only really bumped into a couple of people on the streets. It looks like most buildings are occupied, with very few people allowing themselves to be caught outside after dark. Very sensible. I like sensible people.

Sat 24

I was woken up late last night again. Someone screaming "You're all fucked, get out!" As I came to, I realised that the barricades had been torn down and the doors were wide open. I closed the doors and made good use of my new abilities - dad would have been proud.

This morning when I woke the situation was the same - barricades broken down, doors wide open, but no specimens or dead bodies in sight. I suspect that this is the work of human hands, but why someone would want to do something like that, I don't know.

The atmosphere round here has changed a lot in the last few days, and not in a good way. It seems like all of my old friends have been killed or disappeared suspiciously, and there are a whole host of new arrivals who are all behaving in a peculiar way. I don't think that the number one threat round here is the specimens any more.

I'm getting out of this place. I think I know where Flytrample went - I'm going to try and catch him up.

Goodbye, Millen Hills.

Fri 23

Finkleter didn't come back last night. I was a bit worried, but told myself that he'd probably just bumped into someone else that he knew and was staying in their safehouse. This morning I left the building to perform my daily duties, and discovered his body right outside the front door with one of these specimens still milling around. I extracted the specimen's DNA, naturally. I was tempted to copy the data into my journal, so that I would be able to see justice done at a later date, but I figure that it would be like getting angry at the clouds for blocking out the sun - they can't help it. It's in their nature.

Someone's been neglecting their duties out on the street, because the majority of the specimens that I encountered today had not been logged recently. Obviously this makes me look good in the performance reports, so it's not without benefits, but people have to pull their weight round here.

I dived into a NecroTech building on my way back, and managed to find one solitary revivification syringe, which I've packed carefully into my bag. One of the other scientists also showed me how to stack furniture in front of the doors to keep the undesirables out, for which I was most appreciative. He also gave me one of his MREs, which was like eating cardboard. I never thought I'd say this, but if someone offered me a Big Mac right now, I wouldn't turn it down.

Thu 22

I was woken up by voices in the middle of the night. There were a couple of dozen people in the safehouse, and no sign of the three guys that I had been quietly coexisting with. It made me feel uncomfortable, and I was worried that the level of their voices might compromise the safety of the building, so I packed up my things and walked a few blocks to find a new place to stay. Where, coincidentally, I bumped into an old pal of mine, Finkleter, so I guess it was quite fortuitous.

On my way through the streets, I crossed paths with a couple of specimens. One of them groaned at me plaintively, as if it was imploring me to help, and it brought a lump to my throat, because I knew that there was nothing I could do. Goddamn this syringe shortage.

Incidentally, while I was in the safehouse listening to all those people talking, I overheard mention of my dad. The story, I don't know if it's true, goes that it was the end of the day and he was returning to the police station to get some ammunition, because he was running low. When he got there, the barricades had been pulled down and the doors were wide open. He ran inside and there were two specimens shuffling around in the lobby. So firstly he closed the doors and sealed them, to stop any more coming in, and then just attacked the two intruders with everything he had. When he ran out of bullets, he set about them with a fireaxe, hacking away viciously until his strength had all but gone. There were still some survivors in the building, but I don't really think that there was anything more that he could have done for them. Clearly at least one of them must has survived, to pass on the story, but at that point they changed the subject and I didn't hear what happened to him. I hope he made it out of there.

In contrast, my daily excursion to collect specimen data was downright dull. But successful - I obtained plenty of data, and there was only one corrupted specimen that needed anything more than a cursory scan.

I'm back in the safehouse with Finkleter now, and he's been passing on his observations. The tendency of these specimens to form flocks is absolutely textbook.

Funny tasteless biscuit things for breakfast. I could murder a banana.

Wed 21

Mmmm, starting a new notebook is always so satisfying.

Right, so the current situation is that some fool has hidden all the syringes. I've been into a few of our buildings, and I always have to spend ages looking for some. The situation was looking quite promising for a while, but if we don't find more syringes from somewhere, the number of specimens will increase beyond our control, and things will just get worse and worse.

It's quite quiet in this suburb. The other day I wandered into Shearbank to see how the team over there are dealing with their quota, as I understand that there are a lot of specimens in that region. I'm not a huge fan of the Shearbank team - they always struck me as two covalent bonds short of a methane molecule - but their gung-ho team spirit seems to be serving them well. I came across very few unsampled specimens, so I think that I can safely leave them to it for a while. To be honest, I'm happy to - it was very daunting.

I understand that if you just wander into a police station and grab a gun, no-one will stop you, not even the military. People are shooting at eachother, presumably due to mistaken identity. I'll admit that occasionally at night I've been a bit confused myself, but I guess this is why it's best that I don't carry a gun. I wouldn't even know what to do with it. I think I'll stick to what I'm good at - when I aim at someone with a syringe, I always hit them. Hoho.

My dad's another matter. He's a military man, based on the other side of town. He's pretty much invincible. I expect that right now he's leaving a trail of inert specimens in his wake, or sleeping in a barricaded warehouse with a loaded shotgun in each hand.

Mind you, as I interact with more and more of these specimens, I can feel my confidence growing. Initially I would be daunted by the sight of one solitary specimen loose in the streets, but now I pretty much ignore them, and just keep moving. When I come across a group of a dozen - well, that's a different story. They're pretty scary in large groups.

I keep hoping that I'll come across a torch or something, so that it's not such a challenge to find these syringes in the labs. I'll head back over to one of our buildings in the morning and see if I have any success.

Tinned tuna for dinner AGAIN. Meh.