User:Medic 812

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http://www.urbandead.com/profile.cgi?id=1070581

Days of Darkness

2 Dec 2007 I'm Medic 812 and I was a member of a four man Advanced Combat Medical Team (ACMT) that attempted to insert by helo onto the roof of a hospital. We were bringing in much needed medical supplies and equipment. The Blackhawk's tail rotor became entangled with power lines and crashed. I was thrown to the street. My life was saved by a heap of trash that broke my fall. Initially I was disoriented and scared. Why scared? Because the city we flew into is overrun with infected undead!

This is my journal of my time in Malton, a city besieged by contagious monsters affectionately called zombies. There is no escape. The city has been cordoned off by the Army, FEMA, CDC and every other alphabet soup federal agency in exisistence (and some that don't exist). No one will be allowed to exit the area once he or she has possibly been exposed to the contagion. I know that those on the outside have been ordered to shoot to kill "anything" or anyone attempting to leave the quarantine zone. I'm trapped.

After regaining my senses from getting thrown from the helo, I got up and frantically ran from street to street trying to find some sort of cover. Ghouls seemed to be everywhere. Every building was heavily barricaded. Some had lights but most did not. Unable to find refuge anywhere, I ran until I was exhausted.

2 Dec 2007 While laying in the street,trying to regain my strength, I'm attacked by one of those foul creatures. Unable or possibly unwilling to defend myself, I'm bit again and again. Consciousness slowly slipping away as I lose blood. Bleeding from all those bites soak my BDU's with crimson stains. All is dark.

2 Dec 2007 Hazy.........Clouded ...vision. I can't feel my body. I can't seem to think straight. I think I'll just lay here awhile.

I think I can stand up. Maybe walk. My legs just don't want to move. I'm cold. I think I'm sick, probably infected by that damn zombie. I don't have anything in my med kit for fighting this kind of infection. I've got to find help. Where is everybody. I haven't seen a soul that's alive. I mean living. Zombies are everywhere but they don't seem to be too interested in me. Maybe they sense my infection.

My skin's turning grey. That can't be good.

I've found a hospital, Thank God! The lights are on but the doors are locked. The windows are boarded up. I need help! I've cared for others my entire carrer. Now I need some and can't find any. There's just no way into the building. I bang weakly on the doors, but no one comes.

I struggle back down the steps to the street. I think I can see someone coming. I try to call out but my mouth just won't work. All I can manage is some feeble moans. Help at last. A survivor.

That SOB!!! He shot me! Can't he see that I'm a medic for God's sake! I'm afraid that might be a mortal wound. I'm passing out, again...

Awake. I have no idea how long I was out. No sun, just dark, heavy overcast clouds. Is it night or day? Wind blows trash and debris down the street lined with buildings that are either fortified with all the openings secured with various lumber or empty shells, devoid of all glass, doors busted, interiors dark.

I'm still sick. I've got to find help. I make my way across town until my legs just won't move any longer. I think I'll just stand here awhile in this cemetery that I found. Oh well, people do come here for "rest".

Unsure of exact date A woman in a labcoat, a scientist maybe, jabbed me in the neck with a needle and took a blood sample. Then she injected me with some drug. I haven't heard of any treatments for this infection. We were told that it was 100% fatal, 100% of the time and to destroy all contaminated objects, clothing, gear, and bodies by burning them.

I must have fallen to the ground in my weakened state. I awaken laying face down on the dry, brown grass of the cemetery . I turn my head and stare at one of the tombstones. I'm reminded of just how close death is in this ruined city.

I had a life once. A good one. I had a home in the country beside a small stream. The country road that I lived on had few travellers and only a handfull of neighbors lived on it. Everyone minded their own business but were more than willing to lend a hand if one needed it. All you had to do was ask. It was quiet, comfortable country livin'. My wife's still there, waiting. But, I'm not coming home. Not now. There's no way the agencies on the outside are ever going to let me leave this place, even if I do find a way out. I'll be suspected of exposure. Heck, I have been exposed! They'll shoot me on sight if I attempt to escape. Well, they'd only be doing what's right. I wouldn't want them to take the chance of having this diease escape the quarantine zone.

Now I'm stuck in this God-awful place full of death and disease. It's my own fault. Our ACMT mission to resupply that hospital was volunteer. We knew the dangers. We all understood the risks. And, we all wanted to get those medical supplies in to help the ill and injured. That's what we do! Go anywhere, do what it takes, Hoo-ah! I should have said Ha-Ha, but it's no laughing matter. Believe me, I sure ain't laughing. I know that I'm in deep sh*t.

Why the hell did I join the Army in the first place? "Be all you can be." and "Army Strong" didn't have a thing to do with it. I wanted to fight the ever growing, insidious disease called Islamo-fascism. I wanted to save GI's and kill towelheads. Now I'm fighting zombies. Who would have guessed that one? It sure wasn't in any of the brochures. At least I haven't seen any self exploding undead, so there is a bright side to this.

Combat Medic 01.jpg

I think I'm feeling a bit better. I don't feel so cold and the feeling is returning to my limbs. Whatever that woman in the lab outfit gave me must be working. I hardly doubt that the survivors have been able to come up with a cure in this place. Maybe the government has sent in some specialists to work on the problem. I don't know. It wasn't covered in any of the briefings.

I'm still in the same graveyard trying to clear my head. I've got to get my act together. First, I need to know where here is. I've got a map in the pocket of my BDU pants. I stand up and wander around the edges of the cemetery. Finally, I find a street sign, "Markey Square" and "Dorey Walk". That puts me in the suburb of Stanbury. Now I need to find some other guys from the 82nd.

I take careful inventory of what I'm carrying, which isn't much. My pack was on the helo. I've got two Glock 17's, a canteen, and my load bearing vest(LBV), which is empty. So much for the Boy Scout motto- always be prepared. I've also got some change, pocket lint, my dog tags, lighter and my glasses, which thankfully haven't been broken so far. I've also got my aid bag which contains all kinds of goodies: trauma shears, BP cuff, stethoscope, quick-clot packets, gauze bandages, saline IV bags, IV tubing sets, IV catheters, suture kit with scalpel and hemostats, chest decompression kit, two emergency foil casualty blankets, cravats, two tourniquets, OPA's (airways) and mass casualty tapes in green, yellow, red and black (going to need a lot of black, HaHa). And, I've got a pen and this notepad that your reading.

I think it's time to head out. I walk North-west.

I haven't seen a soul, living or dead on these streets. I think it's daylight. There's enough light to see by so it can't be night. The overcast conditions have really cut the light down. Luckily it's not raining. That would make life miserable. Especially since it's not all that warm out here. Darn I'm hungry. I have no idea how long it's been since I ate last. There's just no way to tell the passage of time. I'll bet it's been at least two days but I don't remember any night. I'll bet that the night passed while I was out cold. I've got to find some food. I have water in my canteen but that's all I've got for the time being.

Survival 101, a man can survive for weeks without food but only a few days without water. So, potable water is an immediate priority. How am I to get drinkable water. There's puddles in the street but I don't dare drink straight from them. Who knows what's in the water in this place. I think I'll drink what water I have left and fill the canteen from one of the puddles. I'll boil it at the first opportunity in beer can or something. I know this sounds kind of silly given the circumstances that I find myself in at the moment, but I can't help it. The last thing I need is a case of the Hershey squirts while trying to evade maneating monsters.



Medic.jpg Medic
This user is a medic and is probably off healing the troops.
Survivor giddings stand.jpg Battle of Giddings
This user or group was among the living that fought honorably against the Big Bash 2 in the one month long Battle of Giddings.


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