Journal:Jon D'oh/Dec06

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December 2006 Diary Archive

01 Dec 06

Zed Count:  ??

Went in and cleared out Laimbeer today. I was under the impression from the radio traffic that the staging area would be cleared when we arrived. If cleared meant leaving the doors wide open, and zeds walking around inside, then yup, it was cleared. I took a few minutes and redefined their idea of cleared better match my own. Manning and the Czarina showed up and we got everything set and prepped. Manning even found a generator nearby! Now all we need is to scare up some fuel . . . A fully operational Necrotech facility would be an excellent foundation for which to stage our assault on Caiger.

Looks like I'm going to get a sample of the Czarina's legendary scotch-soaked-rat-on-a-stick, at long last . . .

05 Dec 06

Zed Count: 14

It's been an interesting last couple of days, to say the least. Laimbeer was a madhouse. Constant zed break-ins were as consistent as they were rampant. Lived a couple of days without lights or heat, for fear of attracting even more brain-eaters.

Made my breakout yesterday to get to the PD which has become our new staging area. Wow, what a mess! Couple dozen survivors all huddled around a fire barrel in the middle of a ransacked PD. Manning and I got things cleaned up, sealed and barricaded without too much trouble, no thanks to any of the deer-in-the-headlights survivors who seemed to be content by just watching us help secure their sorry asses. I guess they do things a bit differently in this part of the city. There's also a generator running now, thank God for the heat. Too bad creature comforts aren't more discriminating. Some of these dickheads deserve a few nights out in the cold, might help them get their heads out of their asses. Well, worst case, they'll make good zed-bait.

Found a stash of MREs while we were cleaning things up in here, so at least we'll get to eat good for a change. You have to wonder about any kind of food source that comes in it's own plastic garbage bag . . .

As soon as I can, I'm going to make my way to the NT Building a couple blocks over. I can see that it's powered up, and has plenty of people milling about inside. If we're going to make another go at Caiger, we're going to need more needles to keep ahead of the hordes.

06 Dec 06

Zed Count: 19

I nearly lost her this time. I'm on the roof watching for their arrival, when I find them, coming from rooftop to rooftop, just like I had mapped out for them. The Czarina spots a survivor on a the streets below, and I knew as soon as she saw him, what she was going to do. She no sooner had hit the street and got her medkit out, when they came busting out . . . couldn't have been more than 4 or 5, but it was enough. She never had a chance. I can't believe that I'm actually considering the notion, but if I didn't know better, I'd swear the fucking zeds had set it up as a trap. No good can come from that chain of thought . . .

I didn't even think, all I could imagine was that she was gone, and wasn't coming back. I grabbed my gear. Maybe it wasn't her at all. I busted through the door, the sunlight blinding me, but I wasn't slowing down. She had to be alright, it was just a simple mistake. I fell more than ran, down the fire escape. Faintly remember the burn and the sting as I cut my hand on a jagged corner, while trying to keep myself just barely upright. There was the zed, hovering over her, it's maw agape and closing in to . . . Oh, God, no . . . wake up, WAKE UP!

I don't exactly remember the series of events of what happened next, but when the world came back into focus again, my revolver was empty, and she was over my shoulder, both of us drenched in stale semi-coagulated blood that didn't belong to either of us.

It's been a long time since I've had anything to say to God, but I'm pretty sure I was promising him the farm if he would help me out just this once. I pulled a needle, sank it into her flesh, and prayed some more. The adrenaline crash was coming for me like a freight train, claws out and everything. Come on, Czarina, breathe . . . breathe.

I don't know if anybody heard me or not, but the last thing I remember seeing before the lights went out was that spark of life and light gasp of breath from her still-perfectly-painted red lips. The last thing I heard . . . 'thank you' . . . from my own lips.

Looks like we're even, God. See you in church this Sunday.

08 Dec 06

Zed Count: 13

Spent the last few days loading up with needles and medkits. God knows we're going to need them at Caiger. The Czarina is recovering well, already back on the politburo generated rants and unique insight to the red perspective. I'll give her credit, she's as full of piss and vinegar as any I've known in a while. I feel sorry for the zeds, when she's around.

Manning has been up to something the last week or so, but I'm not sure what it is yet. Whenever he thinks I'm getting too close, he just gets that shit-eating grin on his face, and goes back to work on his secret project. Silly kid probably just found his pecker . . . Given the size of the grin, the feeling must've been mutual.

We're going to be heading off to Caiger soon. I anticipate that we'll be in the mix within the next 24 - 36 hours. We're 16 blocks from there now, and there's no mistaking the sights and sounds of battle going on over there. Everyone is hoping that things turn out better than they did at Blackmore, God knows we're due for a fucking break.

09 Dec 06

Zed Count: Three less

Took a chance and went to scout a building closer to the mall. I had a little trouble getting inside once I got there, but then I found out why. It was a Necrotech building. Almost perfectly disguised in the middle of the VERY urban area in which it resides, there's no way you would guess what it was from the outside. The only problem in the way was the 3 zeds that were using it as a flophouse.

I successfully ran myself nearly clean out of ammo, but I did get the zeds stopped, dropped and flopped, got the doors closed and started the barricade just before Manning and the Czarina arrived to complete the barricades. I'm not sure how safe it's going to be with the generator running that somebody brought along, but at this precise moment, I'm not going to argue it much. We're taking turns sleeping in shifts so as to keep a proper watch on the 'cades.

I have to say, I'm pretty proud of this bunch. Without alot of notice, they stepped right up when the chips were down. fresh fried rat and jagermeister from my private stock to you all! -- Jon D'oh 06:28, 10 December 2006 (UTC)

10 Dec 06

Zed count: 2 more

Well, let it never be said that I havn't had a bad idea. I mean, if that weren't evident after my 2nd wife, then you obviously weren't watching.

'Hey, ya'll, let's all go over to an abandoned Necrotech Building just a few steps from a major siege, and maybe nobody will notice we're there. Oh, and just in case, let's fire up that generator and run up the fucking Christmas Tree, just in case the zeds didn't notice us stacking bodies outside, and barricading the shit out of the doors.'  ::sigh::

They came in hot, like a 10 dollar whore in need of a fix. Caught us all by surprise. I did what I could, but they had already dropped the Czarina, and were dragging Manning out into the streets before I even had a chance to reload my shotgun. Damnit!!! That boy screams just like a 10-year-old girl. I think he's related to Dakota Fanning somewhere down the line, I swear it. I'm going to need some serious therapy to get the sound of his shrieking out of my head. There's got to be a better way.

I need beer. Lots of beer. Lots and lots of . . . bah, nevermind. I've got needles for Manning and the Czarina, but now it's just a matter of getting to them without needing one of them for myself. I'm going to wait. I'm going to watch. As soon as I see them both up, and going to snoop my way over there and gack them both up but good. I feel like Miss Sally sometimes, I swear. I think I'm running my own little private hellish version of Romper Room. I see Manning, I see Czarina, I see zed, and I see zed, and I see zed, and I see . . . .

11 Dec 06

Zed Count: 14

The only thing more dangerous than a Lieutentant with a map, is a Captain with an idea. -- Wise Old USMC Proverb

"so? when are we moving in on Oxley?" he says. Hell buddy, YOU'RE THE FETHING POLICE CHIEF!!! Lead, follow, or get the hell out of the way, cause all you're doing now is adding to the confusion!!

then . . .

"No body bothers to tell me we're moving back in huh? i am precinct cheif you know... please keep me informed..." Please reference the above rant, fucknuts.

Here is the problem. So-called leaders who want to give orders, but cannot grasp the basic foundations of leadership. Leadership is not a by-product of whining, nor is it mysteriously bestowed upon you by some moistened tart lobbing a scimitar at you. In order to lead, you must communicate. Communicate. Communicate. Let that sink in, man.

We've been to Oxley. We liberated Oxley. We secured Oxley. We yelled from the mountaintops for ANYBODY to come and help us to hold it. Some came, and God bless 'em. But, for somebody whom I've never seen or heard from before to show up two days after the fact announcing that HE'S in charge makes me want to call for a school circle out behind the squadbay and play a few rounds of squash.

Do us all a fething favor, shut up and go back to your box of fucking donuts. We'll call you when it's time to file the paperwork. -- D'oh clear.

15 Dec 06

Zed Count: 18

The last couple of days are like a blur. I don't think I've slept since my last entry. We continue to jump from building to building, desperately working the barricades, and tending to the wounded. We hold the zeds out, more often than not, but they're getting in with more regularity than I think any of us are comfortable with. I've burned through all of my ammo, medkits, and syringes. I've got nothing left, and I'm just too God-damned tired to do anything more about it.

The Czarina and her crew have been amazing to behold. Underpowered, understaffed, and under duress, these guys are short on everything except heart. When everyone else cuts and runs, the GC stands up and flips 'em the bird, literally daring the zeds to bring their worst. God, I love these guys.

This Caiger Mall operation is shaping up to be a huge bust. They're wanting to expand our base of 'caded buildings, and get closer yet to the Mall, but we just don't have enough manpower to maintain what we have, let alone expand. I'm ready to bury our dead (oh, those were the days, when the dead actually stayed that way!) and head back to base in Gulsonside, but I can't leave the GC yet. I've invited them to come along with us, we can do some truly amazing things working together. For now, I'll give them the benefit of the doubt, they've earned that much.

Somebody fry me up a rat, and pass the scotch. Looks like I'm not going anywhere just yet.

16 Dec 06

Zed Count: 16

It's been decided that we're all going back to Gulsonside. We may perhaps be just in time for the coming of the largest and most dominant of the zombie hordes: Shacknews. Great. Not like haven't been getting bitch-slapped enough by the largely unorganized hordes, now we get to deal with the Hulk Hogan of zed mobs. Well, at least it won't be boring. I've also gotten reports that Nichols Mall in Stanbury Village is back in survivor hands, and may be a good waypoint for us to hit on the way back home.

Manning and I have been leap-frogging each other, ensuring that the route is both viable, and passable. I'm not even going to consider safe. Nothing in this fething town is safe anymore. The Czarina and her crew should be not far on our heels. I'm leaving notes every few buildings so they'll know they're on the right track.

When we get back, the first thing I'm doing is spend a couple days in the executive hot tub. This uncivilized shit is for the fething birds. -- Jon D'oh 21:59, 16 December 2006 (UTC)

18 Dec 06

Zed Count: 21(!)

Snuck out tonight, and snatched up a tree. Thought it would be good for cheering everyone up a bit. With all that we've been through lately, that tree was more than just an ornament. It was a symbol of what we're all fighting for:

Life. The evergreen is a symbol of unyielding desire for life, and all that it has to offer. Never yielding to the elements. If you want to kill it, you better mean business.

Determination. It's always reaching out to the light, reaching for life. Oblivious to anything around it that may want to take that life away.

Hope. Each of those little twinkling white lights symbolize a survivor and how, together, they become a thing of power and beauty all their own, when supported by determination.

And then, I realized . . . I chopped that bastard down, for my own selfish reasons, dragged it around outside under the cover of darkness, back to to my friends, and propped it's dying corpse up, out of the light, so that we could all dance around it and watch it die helplessly . . . hopelessly . . . a minute at a time.

We're no better than the fucking zeds . . .

We've become the thing we fear the most.

Merry Fucking Christmas.

21 Dec 06

Zed Count: 20

Had to get the hell out of there today, or I was going to go nuts. I had received some reports that there was a step up in zed activity down in Scarletwood, so I went to check it out. The boys at Garniss had given alot of help to us when we first hit the beach here, so I thought it was only right to come down and lend a hand.

Things didn't look to furry when I got here, so I thought I'd go on a little nature walk, just to make sure. Scarletwood may be relatively quiet right now, but Danversbank was busy. I caught several groups of zeds milling about the streets, couldn't help but to take a poke at one. Poor devil. Got himself a severe case of shotgun poisoning.

I think we may be well served to call the troops in on this one. Danversbank is nice and close to Ft Perryn, over in Whittenside. This could be a good thing.

28 Dec 06

Zed Count: 16

Forgive me diary, for I have sinned. It's been a week since my last entry.

What a fool I've been to think that everyone would see things the way I do. We returned to our base of operations in Gulsonside, to help defend people who simply aren't worth defending! And to add insult to injury, they claim OUR headquarters as theirs, while we've been out being part of the solution! They would rather hide in their little holes in the dark of night and wait for someone else to protect them, than to protect themselves! The only way to win this fucking conflict is to be better organized than the goddamn zeds.

--

And I quote:

Oh, thank God somebody destroyed the generator . . . I don't want the feral zeds to come here and find us.

You've got to be joking. The most zed activity you've seen around here in a month is one your women accuse you of simulating during intercourse.

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If you are such a hero, why are you here giving us the rah rah rah, and not up doing the things that you want us to go do

Because, dipshit, I thought there might be a few souls down here more determined to be part of the fucking solution, than to be content in hiding out and being zed-bait.

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Fuck them. Fuck them all. I swear, from this point forward, I won't piss on the fire to put one of these cocksuckers out. Good fucking riddance.

We've grabbed all the supplies we can carry, and we're heading back to Caiger tonight. I would rather be dragged screaming out into the streets by the zeds, than to die like a fucking pussy hiding out and hoping for somebody else to come and save me.

If I had a torch, I'd burn the bastards down myself. Not fit for the gene pool.

D'oh out.