Journal:DordenGG

Private Journal Medic Dorden, Chief Medical Officer, Tanith 1st �Gaunts Ghosts�.

11th October 2005 Location: Gerard Crescent Police Dept.

I finally remembered this thing, lurking at the bottom of my pack. Looking around the city, I�m not sure anyone else is documenting this, and since I�m here, with little else to do, I figured I�m as good as the next person to try and keep tabs on what�s going on inside the Quarantine Zone. I�m not sure I�ll survive this, Hell, I�m pretty much certain that I won�t, but there�s always the chance that this thing will find its way into the hands of whoever�s orchestrating this thing on the outside.

Let me start by saying that whoever took charge of the control of this thing really screwed up. Dead bodies are coming back to life, half the population of a city is turned into flesh-eating monsters, and you send in scattered handfuls of unprepared and often barely trained soldiers. Damn jack-ass moron!

Anyway, on to what happened. I got air-dropped in with four troopers; Two of the �Ghosts�, well trained, and battle hardened, and two wet-behind-the-ears recruits who should never have been trusted with a spud gun, let alone live ammo. Unfortunately for us, it seems that the pilot got the same sort of training as the new boys. Flies too low, clips his wing, and gives us the choice of jumping and maybe dying, or sitting tight, and definitely dying. Well, one of the �Ghosts� hit the side of a building so hard that he bounced, and one of the recruits never even managed to get his �chute open. The second �Ghost� seemed to be doing fine last I saw. But Then I had to take care of my own landing, which was less than graceful. Been twelve years since I last jumped, and rusty wasn�t in it. Me and the surviving recruit made it to ground in one piece, and had just time to strip our �chutes before we got our first glimpse of the Citizens of scenic Malton.

They were dead. No two ways about it. One looked as if it�d crawled from the wreckage of a ten-car pile up, another was riddled with bullet holes. The rest all bore gashes and wounds that gaped. Their skins ranged in colour from pallid white, to a sickening grey-green colour on the creature I judged to have been dead the longest. They moved with a shambling kind of walk, their milky eyes fixed on us.

After emptying his stomach, the recruit emptied a full clip into them, then another, and another. The ones he hit barely even stumbled. Then they were on him. They bit chunks of his flesh off, and ripped at his skin with clawlike hands. In moments, he was dead on the floor, and they had turned their attention to me.

At this point I feel I should mention that some years ago, I forswore the use of weapons or violence. Well, at that moment, my hands groped at the mandatory pistol strapped to my waist, and I fired, the pistol awkward and heavy in my hands. My aim was awful, and I think I hit one, if I was lucky. I�d declined any extra ammunition, reasoning that I�d been sent here to heal people, not kill them. It suddenly didn�t seem such a clever thing to do, so I ran.

I spent the next few days doing that, only stopping to help the wounded � those that would let me near them � and when sheer exhaustion drove me to sleep. It was sleep that got me killed too. I�d stopped in the shelter of an office building foyer, exhausted, but aware that I wasn�t safe there. I sat on the floor to catch my breath, and must�ve nodded off. The next week or so is nothing more than a mix of vague sensations � Hunger mainly � as I wandered the streets, one of the undead, or �Zombies� as they�re being called. Now, I don�t know how, but I ended up in a cemetery, alive, with a ringing in my ears, aches from head to toe, and flesh beneath my fingernails. There were several armed men there, and a handful of what appeared to be doctors, wearing Necrotech badges. I tried to call out, but my throat was parched, and before I could struggle to my feet, they had gone, leaving several prone forms on the floor, with colour returning to their faces.

I went to them, and to my shock, they were coming back from the dead! I know how ludicrous this sounds, but it is the truth. We each had a large puncture wound somewhere on our bodies, always above a main artery, and we had all been brought back from the undeath of a Zombie. Don�t ask me how this happened, but it did. Maybe you should ask some of those Necrotech boys out there.

Anyway, I moved pretty quickly out of there, and moved through the city almost randomly, until I holed up here about a week ago. There�s about twenty people here, from all walks of life; soldiers from the Malton Barracks, civilians, even another Doctor. At the moment everyone�s watching everyone else�s back, not just out of concern, but because how far can you really trust anyone in this environment? The walls of society have broken down, and it could so easily revert to a case of survival of the fittest, in which case, this old Medic and a lot of other people will never make it out of here.

Well, it�s late, and I�m tired. I�ll try and keep this thing updated, and even get it outside the Quarantine Zone if I can.'

Dr Dorden, Chief Medical Officer �Gaunts Ghosts�.

17th October 2005 Location: The Tardew Building, East Grayside.

It�s been one Hell of a day�.

I�m woken up this morning by the incessant crack of small arms fire. As my old eyes flicker open, I can see and hear people running too and fro, all shouting or screaming, frantically heaping bits of furniture, debris, anything they could find, onto our makeshift barricade in front of the main doors. Climbing to my feet, I could here other sounds, some distinctly non-human sounds. The sound of wood splintering and wordless snarls. It seems as though, during the night, someone was a little too careless getting back into the building, and some of the Zombies saw �em. God knows how they told others, but they�d managed to call all their buddies, and they were real pissed at not being invited in. The soldiers holed up with us were firing from upper windows, and through gaps in the barricade, but it wasn�t enough. The sheer press of bodies outside was gradually tearing down the barricades. I snatched up my pack, and pulled out my pistol, damned unsure what exactly I could do with it that combat soldiers couldn�t.

Before I could do anything else, the damn barricades gave in, and the Zombies swarmed through the gap. The smell was unbelievable. That�s the closest I�ve ever been to such a large group of �em, and the closest I ever want to be. The stench rolled forward in waves, making my eyes water, and my head spin.

The soldiers and civilians closest to the barricade were struggling with the horde, and others were rushing from upper floors, but it was clear that we were outmatched. I fired several shots into the seething mass of walking death, fired until my weapon was empty, then turned, and ran deeper into the building, seeking another way out. That�s another thing you pick up real quick here: the ability to sneak in and out of buildings. Without it, you�re walking down streets, and looking like an Extra Value Meal to the nearest Zombie�s.

I crept through about five or six blocks, and they were all crawling with undead. One of the larger buildings looked like some kind of damn Town Meeting. There were at least two-dozen of the bastards in there, all milling around. I moved on, real quiet like. But I guess I�m losing my edge in my old age. I blundered straight into a pair of �em, just standing there, like grotesque statues. I didn�t even think. I�d reloaded my pistol earlier, in the shadows of an alleyway, and before the could even turn to face me, I was firing. When my pistol ran empty, I dropped it, heaving the Fire Axe I�d scrounged in the Police Department.

I can�t imagine what I looked like, stood there in a dim warehouse, a grey-haired medic, hefting a bright red Firemans Axe, but I did it. It felt right. Guess just �cause I�m old doesn�t mean I can�t get my blood heated. Just takes a while longer. And cools quicker too. One of the bastards caught me a blow across the cheek, and sent me reeling. Well, that was enough to bring me to my senses. I ran again, cursing myself for a fool. And so, I find myself here. I can still hear faint shouts and weapons fire out there, in the direction I came, but no-one else has stopped here if they made it out.

This tower-block�s been pretty well barricaded, and I�m too old an tired to go any further tonight, so I guess I�ll sign off, and just hope I wake up tomorrow.

Dr Dorden, Chief Medical Officer �Gaunts Ghosts�.

19th October 2005 Location: The Brien Arms, Gulsonside.

Things are getting damned messy in here, and i'm getting real pissed off that this whole debacle is being allowed to go on for so long. Don't those bastards outside understand that their people are dying in here? They better hope I never make it out of here, 'cause if I do, there's gonna be Hell to pay...

The whole of East Grayside is crawling with those undead bastards. Christ knows how, but they're massing outside every major collection of survivors, and breaking their way in. Once again, i'm on the run across the city, but in the wrong direction. This morning, me and one of the Privates that was 'defending' us were scanning the airwaves with his radio, hoping for some kind of broadcast, a call from a safe-house in the city, or some kind of acknowledgement from the outside. Hell, even some orders would've done! What we got was some garbage, a religious nut preaching the Apocalypse, and, just before the batteries died, some faint military transmissions. The power ran down before we could find out exactly where they were, but we heard enough to know they're south-west of South Grayside. We were going to head in that direction, but by mid-afternoon, the Private had already taken off, and the undead were mobbing-up between me and the transmissions.

So here I am, sitting in a pub with no beer, with people who may or may not decide to stick an axe in my skull, moving away from the closest thing i've found to help. Ain't life just grand? 'See the world', they said, 'Be a man'. Trust me to have to see this world, and have to be a man in it.

Dr Dorden, Chief Medical Officer �Gaunts Ghosts�.

09th November 2005 Location: Club Blackburn, Kempsterbank.

Well, I was finally forced out into the open yesterday afternoon. I'd found a nice quiet, secure place to hole-up, in one of the city's Hospitals. Unfortunately, those Emperor-damned monsters started to swarm all over the place. I wandered down from one of the upper floors yesterday, and almost walked straight into 6ft of undead, walking meat. They'd broken their way through the doors at the back of the building, and were making their way through the floors and rooms. I let off a few rounds, then ran through the building, raising Hell, trying to warn as many people as I could before I left. Since then, i've been on the move, looking for a place that i'm not even sure exists.

While I was in the hospital, I was patching up a fella, with wild eyes, and a twitchy way of moving. He kept muttering under his breath, what sounded like prayers. I took no notice of it - not the first person i've seen here praying to a God that isn't listening - until, one of the words caught my ear. Imperious. Now, forgive me if i'm wrong, but that's not a word i've heard bandied around here. So, I asked his what he was saying. Turns out he's reciting a catechism of faith to the Immortal Emperor!

Well, once I knew what he was saying, I gave him some basic, sketchy details about the regiment, gave him my recruit number, and he was all but falling over himself to tell me where his people were operating from. He tells me he's from a group called 'The Redemptionists', and that they're cleansing the city one 'mutant' (he meant zombie) at a time. Then he starts declaiming it's a blessing from the Emperor that the Imperial Guard have been sent to him. I agreed half-heartedly, and moved on.

Now, ordinarily I wouldn't have anything to do with these damned zealot extremists groups, but I haven't heard anything from any of the Ghosts, or any other Imperial unit. Feth, I've not heard anything really friendly since that brief transmission weeks back. And from what the guy told me, there's more than just a few of these 'Redemptionists'. They're wandering throughout the city, but they're working out of 'His Most Glorious Cathedral' or something, over in Gibsonton, and there's enough of them to hold a Cathedral against these 'mutants'. This cathedral of theirs is looking real tempting right now, sat here at a darkened table in a half-empty bar. Even if they are just a handful of crazed religious lunatics, my Guard tags and uniform should give me some sway, and maybe, just maybe, they can get in touch with someone outside.

Well, Pax Imperium it is.

'Dr Dorden, Chief Medical Officer �Gaunts Ghosts�