Journal:Drognair
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Journal Of A Borderline Alcoholic Firefighter
I used to be a firefighter with an alcohol problem. One morning, I woke up in the toilets of my favourite pub with a splitting headache and found a city full of dead people. They'd eaten everyone else, and trashed the place into the bargain. Bastards. So I did what any reasonable person would do. I whacked a couple of them with my axe, holed up in a church, and set to drinking the communion wine. They found me passed out on the altar, and they killed me, and made me like them. Death felt just like getting drunk. It was wonderful.
I wandered halfway across the city before I stumbled into another church. I think I was looking for more communion wine. Which was pretty stupid, because being dead gave enough of a buzz anyway.
Next thing I knew, some idiot in a lab coat was stabbing me with a needle. I was alive again,
and I had the mother of all hangovers.
Well, when you feel as bad as that, you don't want to touch any booze for the rest of your life. Or that's what you tell yourself. So I stayed sober for a bit. Found out I'd wandered into some sort of Clinic that brought people back to life. Seemed like a decent enough group, and I was supposed to be a firefighter, saving lives and all that, so I thought I'd join up with them for a while. I didn't want another revivification hangover any time soon.
April 2006
April 9
I'm not sure what happened after my last entry. I've found myself back in Yagoton, apparently in response to an 'emergency'. Which is scientist-speak for 'zombies have eaten our suburb and everyone is dead'. I've made a start on reviving the dead, choosing to focus on people with the necessary skills to do the same. Partly because it's good sense (more revivers means the job gets done quicker, so I can get out of here faster), partly because it separates me from the clinic (who'll revive anything that groans at them, which gave them a suburb full of crazy murderers). I've also tried to avoid reviving anyone with a trenchcoat. Those things just look silly.
April 6
Yesterday I got high off morphine. This was probably not a good idea, as I barely noticed when the zombies tore their way into the hospital. While they chewed on the people camped out in the lobby, I made a daring escape from a window, and shimmied up the drainpipe into the warehouse next door. I rejected this as a potential safehouse, having got used to the luxury of a bed. Luckily, I stumbled across a hotel. I don't know why I never thought of it before. Beds, easily barricadable rooms, even a shower. Best of all, most of the minibars are intact. Or they were until I ransacked them.
So. Bed, booze, and some more morphine I stole from the hospital. Tonight is going to be the BEST EVER.
The following was recorded later the same day
Jusht gone walkabout. Walkedaboutabit. Met a zshombie. Had shome good times. I think we really, y'know, bonded. There wash a connection there. Barely tried t' eat me at all. Hit him with my axe ackshi- arky- by mishtake. We smoothed it ov'r though. Good man, that zombie. Zombie, that man.
Here the recording becomes unintelligible. Automatic signoff occurred several hours later
April 3
Used up the last of my revivification syringes today. Someone spraypainted that the road was a 'revive point', so all the zombies were standing around waiting to be cured. They looked pretty pathetic, in a repulsive sort of way. If I could, I'd have needled them all. But the scientists haven't got round to inventing a stronger dose, so it takes forever just to bring one back. I'm starting to think I'm not cut out for revival work. It takes way too long.
On a whim, I decided to spend the night in a hospital (after spending about an hour scrambling over walls trying to find a way past the barricades. In the end, I found a way in through a nearby bank and over the rooftops. I suppose that's one thing to be said for staying sober: it makes travelling a lot easier. Hard to freerun when you're tripping over yourself). It's a lot more conspicuous than the places I normally camp out in, but I needed to stock up on medical supplies, and the idea of electricity and a proper bed (even a hospital bed) was too tempting. Plus, it's pretty crowded, and I was feeling a little lonely. I doubt I'll talk to anyone, but it's nice to know that I could if I wanted.
March 2006
March 31
Woke up late this evening to find that the barricades had been mostly torn apart, and that the people I had been sharing the library with had left. I didn't see any signs of a fight, and I'm sure I'd have heard if anyone (or anything) had been killed, but it was still damn spooky. After a halfhearted attempt at fixing the barricade, I decided to move to the club next door. It's more crowded, and less comfortable (I'm recording this while sitting in a toilet cubicle), but I suppose being uncomfortable is better than being eaten.
Went on a revive run using data from the DEM database. Out of three zombies that claimed to be standing on the same street, only one was there. Shambling timewasting cretins. Still not picked up any ammo. Local Necrotech building is full of zombies. Somebody's trashed the club bar. I'm starting to feel very depressed.
March 29
I'm hiding out in a library in Barrville. I came to this suburb because the name implies comfortable surroundings, good conversation and plentiful drink. Instead, there's a whole bunch of zombies. I guess you can't win them all. The library's warm and comfortable, at least. The World History section is great for starting campfires.
I was doing some light reading, and I found out what Drognair means. It's not my real name, just a nickname some of my friends gave me. When the zombies broke out, I stopped using my real name, thinking it would make me harder to track down. Anyway, turns out 'Drognair' means 'drunkard' in some dead language. Funny, guys. Real classy, mocking the guy with a drinking problem. I hope you all get eaten.
I've been using information from the DEM to track down people to revive. God knows how they manage to send out a distress signal when they're dead, but most of them don't seem able to stay still once they've done it.
Picked up a few pistol rounds a couple of days ago, but used them up trying to clear out a Necrotech Building. I finished one off with my axe, and then barricaded up the doors and left them to it. Hopefully the scientists who were lurking in there will finish the job, and get the electricity working again. I hate having to scramble around in the dark looking for needles.
March 23
Found my way to the local firestation. Plenty of zombies roaming the streets outside. One of them hit me, so I killed him. And two more that happened to be nearby. Now I'm not sure it was the right thing to do. They don't know what they're doing. They're just drunk off death. Is it right to kill them just for that? More importantly, I don't have any bullets left. I don't feel like heading back to Yagoton to pick up more, so I think I'll see if there's another mall nearby.
March 21
I've left Yagoton. Left the Clinic. They've been good to me. Taught me everything I know about surviving this place. They even stopped me drinking. They're good people. They do good work. Because of them, Yagoton's probably the safest place around.
That's the problem really. Because the place is full of crazies who go around killing people for fun, or because God told them to, or because they're just batshit loco. And you can't stop them. If you kill them, they just shamble over to the Clinic and get alive again. And carry on killing. And then you've got the people who see this, blame the Clinic, and start killing them. And the bounty hunters who go around killing the killers. And the guys in the Mall who forbid all killing within its limits. And enforce it by killing. And then killing those who enforce the law.
So I got together as much ammunition as I could, and went out into the world. Found a zombie who wasn't paying attention, and used him for target practice. Sticking a needle in someone might be more constructive in the long run, but shooting stuff feels far more satisfying. Besides, this guy had a rotting brain, so I couldn't have brought him back anyway.
I've shacked up in a Railway Station. It's a lot colder than the school I slept in in Yagoton. Starting tomorrow, I'll check out the Necronet, see if I can find some souls to save. Or shoot. Depends how the mood takes me.
God, I want a drink.
