User:Brainguard/New City/Stories

UNDER CONSTUCTION This journal is based on the "New City" concept, with fictional accounts from various sources.

Joseph Brundrit

This was part of a video interview for the New City Rural News Outlet.

I was on vacation from America. Being from the country, I admit being somewhat of a libertarian nut. My vacation to New City was going to be a hunting trip in the rural backwoods, a boat ride on the river, and a tour of the city fort. But be careful what you wish for.

I was walking down the river one day, and I saw a group of suspicious people unloading a package from a motorboat. I looked at them for a moment. They gave me this stare, so I backed off. Smugglers, I thought. Better get back to my hotel before trouble starts.

The next day, I awoke to a normal day, thinking that I would have a nice, relaxing vacation. I saw a group of police raiding a building. Those must have the smugglers from earlier, I thought. Boy, was I wrong.

It was 3:00 PM, and I was relaxing in my hotel room. Suddenly - BOOM!!! - followed by sirens. I saw military vehicles speeding towards the Nott Building. Climbing onto the roof of my hotel, I looked through my sport binoculars and saw that the Nott Building was also on fire. I ran to the street with my .22 Rimfire. A scared military private shakily said to me, "Quick! Get into the truck!"

I jumped into the back of his military pickup truck. He told me his name was Private Jeremiah. As the truck came to a stop, Jeramiah told me to get into the railway station. Soon we were in the New City Subway on the way to the rural suburbs.

We were sitting down at a table when Private Jeramiah's mobile phone rang. He looked at the text message, and said, "We've got to move back to the city..." A man with a beer walked by into the train car in front of us. Five seconds later, I heard, "HOLY SH*T HE'S GOT A MOLOTOV!" There was a smash and smoke rose from the other car.

Jeremiah whispered, "Follow me! And get your gun." I picked up my rifle and we snuck into the car in front of us. The car was filled with smoke, and two anarchists had their shotguns drawn. "GET DOWN!" they yelled.

The Private slipped behind the assilants and pointed his pistols at them. "By order of the British Army, you are ordered to stand down." When the smoke cleared, I saw that both attackers were wearing trenchcoats and had replica katanas. "I don't know what crazy ideas you got, but you're WAY in over your head," Jeremiah said between fits of laughter.

Soon a platoon of the Royal Marines had escorted the prisoners away. Their comander told us to head back to their base, so within 5 minutes, we were in the headquarters of the Emergency Broadcast System, the Kovak Building. The supervisor explained, "There have been large, coordinated assaults on New City infrastructure..."

"You mean the idiots in trenchcoats?" I asked.

"Oh no. Those were just wannabes. The real organization, DNR, was active in Malton before the quarantine." He replied.

"Malton? That city that got quarantined for bioterror attacks?"

"Yes. The Nott Building was a NecroTech Corp. labratory, containing a similar agent to the Maltonian one. You don't mind staying for a decontamination."

After an hour of being poked and prodded around by scientists in the Fort Coogan Infirmary, I was declared "Safe" and sent on my way to a new hotel of my choice, with a new rifle and new clothes to replace my previously contaminated ones. Little did I know that the nightmare had just begun...

Nicole Wenmouth

This interview was made by an investigative commission via radio.

I was working as an intern at Elwood Hospital when the outbreak began. The news began airing reports of riots, terrorists, and a military blockade. No one was allowed in, or out of the city, and the bridge to rural New City was closed. What coud have been going on? Either way, we had to keep the hospital running.

We were in the process of clearing out a deceased patient when he rose up. That's right. He. Rose. Up. After being clinically dead for 5 hours. God, it was scary. Especially when he started charging at the patients. We make a makeshift restraint for the risen corpse. Calling 112 (the emergency hotline), we were redirected to a special hotline. A few minutes later, there was a military truck driving away with the corpse in it.

About five days later, we lost all contact with the outside. No more TV broadcasts. No more ambulances. Not even any more power. We set up a portable generator, and cached our food. The food and medicine would hold out, but we only had 120 hours of fuel. We voted to send an expedition to a nearby auto repair shop for gasoline.

A military scout who had been assigned to guard our hospital volunteered. He went to the roof with binoculars, and found an auto repair shop 3 blocks to the west. Jumping from roof to roof, he made his way west. We waited for any contact, and suddenly saw a flare went up.