User:Cpl Adrian Shephard/Reassignment
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This story is part of the Malton Chronicles. This story is fan-made, and is not officially part of any background history for Urban Dead. |
Reassignment
12:15 AM, July 3rd, 2005
"Corporal Adrian Shephard, please report to administration. Corporal Adrian Shephard, please report to administration."
Looking up from the magazine and bowl of soup he had been enjoying, Shephard groaned. What is it?
Folding up the magazine and getting up to dump his bowl of soup into the sink of the smaller mess hall he was in, he picked up his jacket from the chair and nodded to the others lounging around and stepped briskly into the hall, heading towards the administration offices. Along the way, he passed several others, most looking casual but a few appearing worried. He shrugged it off, thinking to himself Well, there's always something to worry about.
A few minutes later he stepped into the office and up to the front desk. "Corporal Adrian Shephard, reporting. May I inquire as to why I'm here?"
The woman behind the desk turned to the computer and scrolled down a list of some sort. "Yes. It appears that you've been reassigned, along with your section. You're familiar with the Malton area?"
"Sure, I guess," Adrian muttered, "I mean, I've been there before on vacation, and we've all heard the news reports about NecroTech and their fundraisers and stuff."
The receptionist nodded, closing the list with a click. "Yes, and you've proven to have an interest in that before." Adrian winced, but the woman carried on. "There's been an incident, and you and your section have been assigned there on 'quarantine' duty."
His expression turned from one of concealed embarrassment to one of confusion. "Quarantine? What happened? I wasn't aware of any disease outbreaks..."
"Corporal, I have no idea what happened to call for this action, but orders are orders. You'll need to pack your things and report to the airstrip within the hour. A plane will be waiting, along with your section and everyone else who's been reassigned."
He shrugged, then turned to go. "Understood."
12:50 AM, July 3rd, 2005
Adrian pulled his jacket tighter around himself against the wind. Nearby, a plane was loading supplies and personnel, while the rest of his group stood nearby, looking nervous. One of them, a private, stepped over, lowering his head to speak with Shephard.
"Sir? Not to ask questions when it's a bad time, but what's going on? I asked the office, but they just said something about an infection that needed to be stopped before it spread. You know anything?"
Adrian shrugged, frowning. "Sorry, private. No idea."
"Any theories, sir? Trying to avoid being rude, sir, but... well, we all know about you. About that incident, few months back. Figure you'd know more about this than most of us, sir."
Turning to face the private more fully, Adrian drew himself up irritatedly. "Private, I appreciate you're attempt at tact. I do, however, have to ask that you refrain from bringing up my prior actions regarding the communications logs and filing storage. I have no idea what's happened, though judging by the number of hospitals and NecroTech research facilities, I expect it to have been some sort of breach regarding a rare disease or something. Any further questions, private?"
The younger man shrunk back, shaking his head. "Sir, no, sir."
Regretting having snapped, Adrian pulled his jacket closer and headed towards the plane, looking over his shoulder, he grunted, "Follow up. We're on a schedule." Whatever that schedule may be for...
3:05 PM, July 3rd, 2005
After the plane ride, which can been filled with murmured questions and nervous jokes, they had set down on an old, disused airstrip not too far from Malton. A series of tents had been set up, and an assortment of military vehicles streamed in from the main road. Shephard and his section were hustled over to the improvised barracks. Along the way, they passed one of the other tents where a few muffled shouts were coming from. Adrian tried to listen, catching a snippet of the conversation.
"...get the supplies over there! I don't care about the civilians and what they think! Just do it! Do you..."
Once they had been escorted to the barracks, names taken, and the officer who had done this left, the rest of the group began to mutter to themselves again. Glancing around, Shephard counted at least three other sections. Separating himself from his own, he sat down heavily on his bunk, fishing around in his jacket for a notepad, filled with scribbled notes about radio frequencies and troop relocation orders from the past year. Flipping through it, he saw the same thing as always. Moving them progressively closer to Malton.
What the hell had happened?
6:30 PM, July 3rd, 2005
The APC rumbled along the highway, followed by several more. Tanks filed along behind, and several other vehicles of varying design were mixed in. The other side of the road was filled with stopped cars, many being searched by soldiers. Adrian looked out, still confused. Several of the forces they had met with earlier had been part of the Joint CBRN forces. Which made sense, since it was some sort of disease outbreak...
Once they reached the outskirts of Malton, the roads in had been blockaded, bridges blasted, and the old walls had been covered in troops. More of the temporary tents and facilities had been set up, and the column slowly drove past it all. Eventually, after driving into one of the outposts, he and his fellow troops were unloaded and ushered into the nearest barracks. Somewhere towards the city, gunfire rang out.
Inside, the barracks was packed full of other soldiers, most looking as confused as Adrian was sure he did. A trio of men, two of whom seemed to be higher ranking officers and the third wearing a lab coat stood at the far end, signalling for everyone to stop the murmured conversation that filled the space, which was complied with quickly. The central figure held up his hand, then began, speaking loudly enough that his voice carried across the room.
"I'm going to get right to the point, soldiers. There's been an accident inside Malton. A biological agent has escaped containment. It is a viral, fluid-transmitted disease. Infection results in death within forty-eight hours in ten percent of documented cases, but the virus remains dormant in all cases. Until the carrier dies."
The third figure picked up, saying, "Upon death, the virus thoroughly infests the brain and removes it's dependence on oxygen. It then proceeds to reanimate the corpse, causing it to act according to it's most base instinct, namely hunger."
One of the soldiers near the front couldn't contain himself, and burst out, gesturing wildly. "Are you saying that the city had an outbreak of zombies?"
The scientist glared at him, but nodded slowly. "If you want to be crude, yes. The symptoms are all the same. According to our estimates, the outbreak started some time early in the morning and we detected it near ten o'clock."
The first officer spoke up again, nodding at the scientist. "Thank you, Mr Kommel. As he said, the closest thing to what is happening is," he paused to sigh, "an outbreak of a 'zombie' virus. You have been reassigned here to man the quarantine zone. We have established a full blockade around the entire city and are currently screening everyone who has left the city in the past twenty-four hours. No one further may be allowed to exit the city limits, in case the virus spreads. You will be shooting to kill, men."
The other officer smiled bitterly and said, in a sarcastic tone, "Congratulations, soldiers. You will be protecting humanity from extinction. Get used to your reassignment."
Disclaimer
I'm not a military nut. I apologize for whatever inaccuracies I may make during this, or any other fiction, regarding the military. All my reference material is garnered from Google Search and Wikipedia.
