Journal:Gerhard Hafner
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Oct 05
6th
Audio log of Lab Assistant Gerhard Hafner, September 6th, 2005.
It's been difficult finding appropriate zombies to extract samples from. They still seem to have some social allowances, which I find most intriguing, considering the theoretical amount of brain decay that's possible from the disease. I've managed to get about five samples so far, though. I want to find a library and help myself to a few books relating to neurological disorders and decay before I hide away in a lab. I should probably find a first aid kit for the scratches I got today, too.
Gerhard Hafner out.
10th
Audio log of Lab Assistant Gerhard Hafner, September 10th, 2005.
It's been a harrowing couple of days, but I've managed to come away with even more DNA samples and a few new scars. I've taken some minor lacerations here and there, but looting the hospital of a few first-aid kits has kept me rather healthy. I still have, ah, two left, it seems, and a night in a safe firestation has yielded a sturdy pair of wire cutters and a solid fire axe. Now I just need to find myself a NecroTech office still intact so I can work in peace for a few days.
Gerhard Hafner out.
17th
Audio log of Gerhard Hafner, September 10th, 2005.
I found a suitable laboratory being used as a safehouse by some holdouts on the 12th. I've spent the last 5 days fairly walled off from the outside world except for the times I was called to look after an injured survivor. I'm the only one with any lick of understanding of the human circulatory system, and even I don't know that much. We've got a motley collection of firemen, cops, and stray military servicemen around here, along with one or two other NecroTech employees, who have been occasionally helping me in the lab.
One firefighter, Casandra Roberts, has been taking a particular interest in my work. I've allowed her to stay in the lab while I'm busy on the condition that she be my assistant. Over the dried meals I've had the dubious pleasure of enjoying during my stay here, the muscular black woman has spoken a lot of how she's going to cleanse this city one block at a time. Her fire axe has certainly seen a lot of action, so I certainly have no reason to believe she's lying. I have decided, over the days, that I like Casandra. She posesses a fire and driving ambition that I find alluring. I've invited her to come out with me tomorrow to gather more DNA samples. I've taught her how to use a DNA extractor, and scavenged a spare one from the store rooms. Casandra managed to find some GPS units for the both of us in the NecroTech intra-net room. I was pleased.
Overall, the progress of my work has been slow. After studying some syringes I've found, I've come to understand how they work. They revive a zombified human, but the work is very slow and occurs on a molecular level. This was not heartening for my larger goal. I need more samples before I can test thier reaction to a synthetic aeration system of the anti-disease that I've worked up. Casandra and I head out tomorrow.
Gerhard Hafner out.
23rd
Audio log of Gerhard Hafner, September 23rd, 2005.
I confess no small amount of frustration with Casandra. She's insisted on brutalizing every zombie we extract DNA from. I've found this to be a pointless risk and an enormous waste of energy, but I will admit that Casandra can be very persuasive for reasons I have yet to exactly establish. Thus far, I've chalked it up to simple charisma on her part, but I don't like leaving things on such a simple explanation.
She's very faithful in the Christian God. She spent the better part of an hour on the 21st rummaging around in a church to find herself a rather large crucifix. She's taken to wielding the crucifix in her off hand and her axe in her dominant one. Her battle cries are also rather stirring, if I do say so myself. While she is not allowing my work to be as efficient as it could be, I suppose we are doing a decent job keeping the neighborhood somewhat secure, and she's definitely a welcome sight when she enters our safehouse covered in zombie gore. That makes doing my work easier, so I suppose I should not complain too much.
Also of note, yesterday we came across what I had been fearing I would come up against at one point or another; we found a zombie that had a rotted brain. I was dumbfounded when my DNA extractor insisted I repeat the dangerous spinal tap extraction because of a damaged cortex. I finally did manage to get a viable sample right before Casandra pinned the zombie against a wall with her crucifix and annihilated it's head with her axe.
This is a very disturbing find with regards to my work. The syringes I've been collecting rely on an intact cerebral structure to properly revive the human inside the corpse. So to find the cure I've been seeking, I not only have the delightful task of overcoming potency and insertion issues, but also degrees of decay, as well. That will be the last problem I deal with, I think; getting a silver bullet for the zombified humans with intact brains will, I believe, revive the vast majority of humans in the city; the stragglers should then be easy pickings for the remnants of the police force, the military around, and crusaders like Casandra.
My next update may not be for a while. I have a lot of work to do in the lab, particularly with regards to this brain-rotted sample. Ah...the work is never easy, but the road to eternal fame and glory is bound to be paved in hardships. At least I'm not bored.
Gerhard Hafner out.
24th
Audio log of Gerhard Hafner, September 24th, 2005.
I wasn't expecting to have another entry so soon, but the sample from the brain-rotted zombie has yielded more interesting than I had imagined. There's a strange sort of pathogen that's festering in the sample, and it's been rather tenacious in attacking any piece of living tissue I've put into contact with it. One dish of lamb's-blood surrogate turned a rather sickly black in about an hour of exposure. We...appear to have a kind of pathogen humanity's never encountered before.
I again suppose that I should be worried or disturbed by this development, but I can only say I grow more intrigued. This pathogen truly is evolution in the working, and if I did not have my historical immortality and the assurance of my humous comfort should I find some manner of spreadable antidote for this plague of undeath, I would be most intrigued to study it much, much more. For now, I have run some simplistic tests and have satisfied myself with the knowledge that the pathogen is easily curable by many known antibiotics and the human immune system does attack it naturally. I find it unlikely that the immune system could fight it off on its own, but staving the source of the infection with an antiseptic topical found in most first-aid kits would almost certainly do the trick. The pathogen--which currently I am classifying as a bacteria--does not seem to be airborne and requires contact of bodily fluids to transmit. So, all bite wounds will need to now be checked by someone in the safehouse--again it most probably falls to me. I find it highly unlikely that claw wounds could transmit the contagion.
Casandra did not take the news of my findings very well. She grew angrier than I've seen her when she takes her crucifix and axe to whatever zombie unlucky enough to be in her way. I suppose it's another sign of corruption for her, which, I admit, I do see her point. I've found her amusing to be around, I must confess that my normal introverted stability is somewhat boring. Seeing Casandra's volitility and outgoing nature is in some ways inspiring, some ways amusing the the point of derisive laughter. Ah, well, she is a good friend, I suppose I should be more tolerant of her quirks. Then again, I suppose I should have been surprised when I found an evolutionary, symbiotic pathogen in a particularly rotted zombie's fluids, but I can't honestly say that was a shocker, either.
I talk too much, it's time to get back to work. Gerhard Hafner out.
29th
Audio log of Gerhard Hafner, September 29th, 2005.
My work progresses slowly. I've explored a few ideas for a sort of chain-reaction molecular affect that would, I think, not damage the dermis appreciably but eventually get to the central nervous system to do the appreciable work...the main problem is getting the chain reaction to function properly in a way that is not so harsh as to dissolve or mutate the dermis. I'm not yet ready to dismiss the idea just yet, but even if it does not pan out, I still have a few other ideas, such as a carrier particle that would enter in through the tear glands or nasal passage...once again, all theoretical at this point. Many of my experiments have been destroying my DNA samples.
It occurs to me that I should probably comment on the DNA itself with regards to normal human DNA. The strands have not so much been modified, just...cut, is the best way I can describe it, I suppose. A good analogy would be a simple circular race track. The hard-paved circle is roughly equivelant to the 'normal' human DNA, whereas some dirt-path shortcuts near the curves are the zombie DNA. Many essential strands, such as the ones the Human Genome advances to control higher cortex activity, are not so much gone as cut out of the loop, becoming a strange sort of genetic free radical that I've never seen before this whole opportunity started. The syringes currently work by injecting the liquid into a zombie's spinal column, where the solution assaults the brain, stunning it while the solution overpowers the unnatural cuts to the genetic code and re-constructs the DNA to a more natural form. The two obstacles standing in my way are delivery and potency, for obvious reasons.
Casandra has taken it upon herself to begin teaching many of the survivors how to use the revification syringes, though I have no earthly idea why; many of these...individuals...would break and run the second they saw another zombie. I also don't like all the competition for syringes, there's very few of them as it is. I'm dreading the day she asks to go to the fire station a few blocks down with her so we can get a stash of fire axes for those of our number that have no real defensive skills to speak of. Or, even worse, heading to a police station to loot pistols and shotguns. Ugh.
At any rate, Casandra and I leave tomorrow morning to get more DNA and pacify the neighborhood again.
Gerhard Hafner out.
Nov 05
13rd
Male voice 1: "...damnit!"
Male voice 2: "Kill that bastard, he's all over me!"
Male voice 1: "Son of a bit--"
Female voice 1: "DIE, scum!
Female voice 2: "HELP ME! FOR GOD'S SAKE, HEL--"
Male voice 1: "Casandra! More coming in the windows!"
Female voice 1: "I see them...Gerhard, help that woman."
Male voice 1: "Already on it. You there, get the back door open, we have to abandon this place."
Male voice 3: "Yes sir!"
Female voice 1: "I shall not fall to fear, for I am fear itself!"
Male voice 2: "Jesus, she's scar--"
Male voice 1: "Shut up, Atrick, time for that later. Get two others and grab our medpa--shit, this woman just coded. Alright, she's dead."
Male voice 3: "Dr. Hafner, the back alley's clear!"
Male voice 1: "Good man. Get the others and go out back. If Cassy and I aren't there in 5 minutes, leave without us. Move!"
Female voice 1: "Come to me! Come to me and die!"
Male voice 1: "God damn it, Cassy, snap out of it! This is over!"
Female voice 1: "Haaah! Death or purity, for you, they're the same!"
Male voice 1: "Cassy, behi--got him! ...Hell, that was my last syringe. Damn you, Roberts, I am not dying here because...of...YOU!"
Female voice 1: "Gerhard, get your hands off me!"
Male voice 1: "Oof, to hell with you! Atrick! Hold her for a minute!"
Female voice 1: "Let go of me! They need to be purged, all of them!"
Male voice 2: "Not today, Captain...not today."
Male voice 1: "..alright, door's sealed. We're heading west, you lot. Go and go hard!"
Female voice 3: "Oh god, I think I'm gonna be si--"
Male voice 1: "Be sick later! Move now! ...hey, how long has my audio recorder been on?"
15th
Audio log of Gerhard Hafner, November 15th, 2005.
My lack of updates has been largely due to my lack of progress, but after what I unintentionally recorded two days ago, I feel it necessary to explain what happened.
We appear to have a traitor in our midst somewhere. One of our number is some manner of sick zombie cultist that is actually aiding the things. I am not normally a violent man, but if I ever find out who did this, I will personally decapitate them and throw them off the highest building I can find.
The zombies were signalled through an abundance of flares fired, it seems. There were three shots of them before we were attacked, but a police officer in our midst named Harry Maza said they appeared to be offensively fired, and had lodged themselves in a building across the street, so we did not think too much of it at the time. I have subsequently declared all flare guns contraband.
It has taken us two days, but we have managed to find another NecroTech building that is suitable to work in, and suitably tucked away. I'm taking no chances this time; the only way in and out is a ladder that leans against the second floor, with one spare in the room and a few more spares down in the cellar. I've boarded the door and barricaded it so heavily that a rat would have trouble squeezing in, let alone more zombies.
Casandra is not happy with how we pulled her away from the carnage two days ago, but in private, she has grudgingly thanked me for doing so. I did not get an accurate count of the zombies, but there were definately far more than she could possibly deal with, no matter how berserk she went.
Overall, we have lost roughly a third of our number in the last two days. Some died to the attack, others had friends die and committed suicide in thier despair. I have made sure these bodies are taken care of--by which I mean, I locked them in the parts cellar of an auto shop and welded the doors shut with a cutting torch, and spraypainted a warning over it. I have yet to see a body not rise from this plague, and these people knew us in life, so I am taking no chances of them following us.
My research has led me to discard the chain-reaction theory of delivery as too damaging. I had some progress with getting the reaction past the dermis, but it would kill human and zombie alike with how violent it was. I suppose it is an option if I hear word that they are looking for a drastic option such as that, but for now I am content to look for alternatives.
I am weary now, and I need to go sleep. The last two days have been very trying.
Gerhard Hafner out.
23rd
Audio log of Gerhard Hafner, November 23rd, 2005.
Well, things certainly have taken an interesting turn. I am still attempting to decide whether they are beneficial or not. Apparantly, the suburb we caravaned to is controlled by an insular group calling themselves the Armed Citizen's Resistance, or ACR. The NecroTech building we commandeered in our escape is apparantly just on the outskirts of thier territory. I was rudely awakened yesterday by a group of men levelling machine guns in my direction as I poked my head out our egress window to answer thier hail.
They do not take very kindly to strangers, and sternly told me that any of our number wandering much more northward would be shot on sight as a zombie cultist. My mouth soured to this, but I did take the opportunity to climb down and talk with them about thier experiences with these traitors.
As nearly as the ACR is able to tell, these 'cultists', as they call them, are affected with something resembling Stockholme Syndrome--they see the zombies as the herald of a new world order without the strife of humanity. The ACR representatives and I both had a good laugh over the irony of this belief. They confirmed my suspicion that flare guns were used to precipitate an attack. The leader wholeheartedly agreed with my policy of banning flare guns on occupied premesis. One of them also noted that the same group of zombies seemed to react to the same pattern of flares. This would make sense to me; it is not unlike training an animal to recognize a bell as the signal for meal time. ...I swear, if I find the traitor that sold us out, they will beg for Satan's touch before they die.
I think I may have won them over recently, however. Casandra and I raided an automotive garage and found a few dozen liters of petrol and a pair of portable generators. One of them we spliced into the main power tap of our building, providing my laboratory with electricity for the first time in months. The other one I donated to the ACR, who promptly hooked it up to thier local hospital, restoring power to thier Emergency Room. The leader of the ACR came down to thank me personally, and told me the hospital would remain open to those with me, so long as they were stripped of any and all possessions before going in. I thanked him and told him his paranoia was understandable.
Speaking of Casandra, she has occupied many of her days either hunting down the traitor or slaughtering more zombies...usually before I can get a DNA sample, I might add. She looks very much the urban commando anymore; on the 20th we looted a police department of firearms. Aside from the crucifix and axe over her back, she now slings two shotguns over her buttocks and holds a pistol on each leg. I have elected to discard my axe in favor of a combat knife and a shotgun. I still carry my syringes...she does not. Casandra is a valuable ally and a good friend now, but when we both get out of here, I do not know for certain if I will keep in touch with her. I will be the first to admit that her emotional passions are the polar opposite of my usual mode of operation.
I am currently exploring a molecule that would enter through the esophagus of an infected zombie and slip into the bloodstream via the digestive tract. Nearly all zombies walk with thier mouths at least somewhat open; saturating the city with a cloud of my molecule should be all the potency I need to get it to work. My issue right now involves making a molecule non-reactive to the highly acidic environment of the digestive tract. I've had little success so far, but I am not ready to give up on it yet. In the meantime, my priorities involve getting enough petrol to keep my laboratory running; electricity makes my work many times easier.
Gerhard Hafner out.
