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Starting Occupation: Cop
Group Membership: The Abandoned
Goals: Malton's Independence Day
Username: Dougward
More details: Urban Dead profile


Dougward is a level 41 Civilian. He woke up to Malton's zombie apocalypse on July 04, 2005 and joined The Abandoned on December 08, 2005. He has not looked back since.

In-Character History

The name's Dougward. I was a cop, back when there was order, back when I had a life, a family. Before I entered this damn city.

I was called into Malton on July 4th. Ironic, isn't it? I don't know what I was doing working that day. I always had that kind of luck.

I was called in for a 10-14. Escort detail. High command wouldn't tell me who--what--I was escorting. All I had was a pistol, ammo, and a flak jacket. Standard equipment. Too bad it wasn't a standard situation.

I arrived on foot at the pick-up point. The streets were deserted, cars stopped. I knew something wasn't right. Maybe it was the bodies. Wearing what were white labcoats. Now they were red.

Someone lurched at me from the shadows. Not someone. Something. I shot at it, and hit it a few times. First in the shoulders, just to stop it. Then in the chest. But it didn't stop. Maybe it couldn't.

I ran. There was nothing else I could do. I was out of ammo. That...thing kept coming. With its hands, teeth, everything it had. I went back to the border. To leave. To get out. But they didn't let me.

There were men there. Wearing black, all black. No red. They saw me, all red. They stopped me. Said I couldn't leave. Said I might have it. Said I might be infected. I tried to push through, and that's when the guns came out.

So I ran. That's when I discovered the barricades. All over. Every building. I was lucky. A police department was nearby. I managed to get through the barricades.

There was a man in there. A survivor. There for the same reason I was, the hope for law, for sense. I was able to find a few pistol clips, a few shotguns. I changed flak jackets. Mine was bloody. They all had blood on them.

All I can remember, then, is wandering. I saw things that no man should see. The zombies had only started to rise, then. I killed. I killed to survive. I killed to protect. I saw zombies killing men, men killing zombies, men killing men. It drove men insane. It drove me insane.

I walked into an office building. Empty, like all the rest. I took the stairs up. One flight, two flights, I stopped when I reached the top. Then I took one stair down.

I guess I was infected, after all. Because I stood back up. But I didn't stand back up. Someone, something, else did. Something that didn't think, but ate brains. Something without compassion, or sense, or humanity. A blasphemy.

Everything from then's a blur. A red blur. I killed. I murdered. The hunger never stopped. I fed, and fed, and it never stopped.

One day something stopped me. I don't remember where I was. But I saw a sign. Not an omen, but an actual sign. Someone, not something, had vandalized a monument. Graffiti. In red spraypaint. Maybe that's why I stopped and saw it.

There was enough left of me to be able to read it. Drake Walk. Revivification. Salvation. Maybe even a chance for redemption. A chance to clean the blood off my hands.

I found Drake Walk. And I waited. And a someone came. A day earlier I would have murdered him. Made him into what I was. But I didn't. And maybe that's what I did to deserve a second chance.

I can say that I never did drugs. Never aspirin, never cough syrup, never alcohol, nothing. I had had shots before. Everyone has to. I had never felt them before. I had felt the needle, the piercing, but never the medicine. I felt this one.

You know how it feels when part of you falls asleep, and then blood starts flowing again, and it's all pins and needles? It was like that, but in every part of my body. In parts of my body where I had never felt anything before, parts I didn't know I had. It was excruciating.

The very worst was my brain. I heard once that you don't have any nerves in your brain. Maybe that's why you can be awake when they do surgery on it. But it doesn't explain what I felt. It felt like ice water, with a million volts or watts or whatever of electricity running through it. It felt like how those pink lightning things, in the glass balls, look. Fire and ice.

I guess I passed out. When I woke up, one of those things was attacking me. Guess it smelled fresh blood. I managed to get away. Got into a hospital. Got fixed.

That was when I made a vow. To protect what remained of the law. To protect the people from those things. To protect Malton.

I traveled, running and gunning. One day I was Yagoton. Good suburb. Safe. Schools, a fire station, police departments, a mall. I had just been in another firefight with a zed. I was hurting. Someone fixed me up. Said he was from The Abandoned. What's that, I asked. He told me where to go. To ask.

I joined. Best career move I ever made. Better medical plan than I had back on the force. The pay's better, too. It pays in protection. In life. In a chance for redemption.

I entered this city on Independence Day. The day the dead lost their freedom. Trapped. The day I was trapped in this hell. Every day I fight for our Independence Day.

The Score

People who have PKed him:

PKers eliminated by him: