User:Dunstan Smit

This is an interview with Dunstan Smit. He's one of the defenders working to keep Fort Perryn safe from the zombies in Malton. Make sure you remember to use your new speech to text converter.

Start Recording, Interview #7, with Dunstan Smit, 2008-07-14 20:28:00

Before I ever knew anything about zombies, or the military, I was a med school student. Graduated top of my class, worked for 2 years in a hospital.

Sorry Dunstan, but I'm gonna need you to fast forward to your involvement with the outbreak.

Oh, okay. After my 28th birthday, I joined the Irish marines. Went through training quickly. I excelled in placing and defusing explosives, so the military offered me a chance to be the demo specialist on a covert ops unit. I accepted. The years came and went as I fought in undisclosable locations. Then in 2005, there was the Malton incident.

Did they tell you anything? About the zombies I mean.

No, the brass didn't want us dirtying their suits...

My team was taken to the Malton border. Our mission was to destroy a train loaded with C4 ,just sitting in Shillito Drive Railway Station, so that no civilians could get a hold of it. It was supposed to go to Fort Perryn, but the rail lines had been clogged up with abandoned trains. We mounted up on a couple of jeeps and went out. The streets were almost completely deserted, except for the snow...and a handful of school children. Our orders were to leave everyone we encountered, but I couldn't leave them. We stopped to radio for an evac, and one of the girls collapsed on the floor. We picked her up, and kept working the radio. Her body attracted some Zs to our position. I didn't know they were what they were at the time, so when we opened fire, it was a big surprise to see that they didn't go down. All they did was moan and chase after you. I put a whole mag into one of them and it didn't slow down. Fuck, one of them got behind us and pulled out Sergeant Somers. I can still remember his screaming. Suddenly I was in charge, and my squad was routed. They were coming in from all sides, so I yelled at everyone who could hear me to follow. We retreated into a factory, and barricaded ourselves into the second floor. We were short three men and two children.

You could've called for Evac then and there. Why weren't you rescued?

Shit...I don't know. Maybe General Nekav thought our asses were expendable. We did call for evac and we got a response saying to hold out for ten minutes. Ten-fucking-minutes my ass!!!! We were there for five days. We were dehydrated, and all our medical supplies were used to treat Liason's bite. He was dying, two boys had projectile vomiting, all while trying to keep every entrance sealed.

How did you do it?

How did we do it? How did we fucking do it?!!! I'll tell you fucking how!!

[He holds up a bottle of whisky] The factory's top floor warehouse was full of em. It kept us alert somehow, and kept us safe. We didn't give it to the kids of course. We gave them most of our water...all of it was gone in a day.

Bastards still some-how got through though. James got a lucky headshot on one of them. I yelled for my squad to aim for the head. Bastards were already climbing up the stairs. Too late. Too fucking late. They were close enough to grab now, the children and two of my squadmates ran away and I found myself under a pile of flesh eating corpses. After a while, they just left me alone, instead of consuming me whole. I shivered at the sight of my torn up arm. For a few minutes I could see everything around me. Some of the more decayed ones tried to speak to me, I noticed just before I died, that the ones who were grabbing me and stroking my wounds and trying to comfort me, were the ones who hadn't attacked me. Of course they could've just been trying to eat me. I was too drunk to feel pain. Then I took my last breath.

But that wasn't your last breath...

No. You should know that, I'm the one that revived your ass after all.

Yeah...anyways

The next thing I remember was...me, like I was watching myself from a third person view. I still have nightmares about those people I killed. Sometimes it's my own men I am attacking. Sometimes it's my mom, god bless her soul. I wandered all over the place, got shot a few times by some desperate survivors who were hunting during the winter freeze. First winter of the quarantine, everyone thought that they would freeze. Looks like they followed your advice.

Hey, that wasn't meant to help anyone survive an actual zombie invasion.

I know, I know, I'm just yankin your leg.

Please continue.

Yeah.[Laughs]

They didn't really stand a chance against my more experienced brethren, but I got downed quite a few times. Each time I wished I would stay down. Then one day I had a stroke of luck. Someone jabbed me with something sharp while I was hunting in a fancy office building. Before I could react like a true zombie, my knees buckled and my entire body felt like it was being ripped apart and stitched back together. I woke up in a sick bay of sorts, with a huge headache. The burning summer sun was shining in my face. I felt around my chest and left bicep, and I felt scars, probably from surgery, or maybe my wounds had had enough time to naturally heal.

I got up from the bed and noticed a small bump on the door frame to my left. It was a shoulder. Tensing for a quick scuffle I turned the door and pinned the abomination against the wall, I was aiming to snap it's neck. As fast as I had turned the corner I let go of her neck. It was a lady, a young one, with a bloody white coat and glasses. She was gasping for air as soon as I let go. In her hand was a revolver and under her coat I could see the unmistakable bulge of a shotgun. She giggled and told me, in a tiny voice "Don't worry, the place is heavily barricaded, nothin's getting in here, atleast...nothing without some imagination" Her gaze rested on my legs and she giggled some more. I was stark naked, and I hadn't realized it. I retreated, embarrassed to say the least, into the room I had been sleeping in and found my pants, boots, and shirt. My head ached. I told her about my mission, and asked how long I'd been out. Her lips turned into a wide grin, and she laughed. "I know the explosives you're talking about. I raided that train almost three years ago" I was damned if I was going to believe that, but she filled me in on everything that had happened since my mission all those years ago, and none of it sounded like bullshit. I found some food in the cafeteria and a GPS locator in one of the cars in the parking lot. Later in the day she handed me an old revolver and told me to go to Fort Perryn to regroup with the American military. She thought I was Yank. That was funny. I bid her farewell after finding a bag and stuffing it with food. It took nearly 30 hours to get there, twice I had to stop and rest, both times I was assaulted by zeds. At Perryn, well not exactly AT Perryn, but inside some sort of bank, I joined up with an American combat unit who had been fighting to reclaim the Fort. This unit consisted mainly of volunteers from the 82nd Airborne Division, and a few civilians who decided it was best to stick around the 82nd. I've spent nearly a year in that unit since then.

Affiliations

You are at Somerville Boulevard. Somebody has spraypainted -=[ REVIVE POINT ]=- onto a wall. There are three dead bodies here. They all smell strange. You took a Headshot from SamuelGreenburg the Zombie Hunter! You will need to spend an extra 5AP to stand up. (7 hours and 18 minutes ago)

Some people...

	I'm from the 82nd!
	This user is from the 82nd Airborne Division

	Trenchcoater
	This user finds no irony in 20 shotguns and katanas.

	Awesome
	This user/group is awesome!

	Male
	This user is male.

	Calendar
	Today is Friday, 15 Nov 2024

	Trigger Happy
	This user has guns. Do not cross them.

	Roleplaying Notice
	Notice: This User or Group enjoys the RPG aspect of MMORPGs, the category of games that Urban Dead falls into. As such, there is probably quite a bit of roleplaying and/or creative writing on this page and in said User/Group's in-game actions. In other words, if you think the difference between IC and OOC is "One has an 'I' and the other has two 'O's," buzz off.

	The Opportunists
	This user or group supports opportunistic behavior.

	Pay It Forward Supporter
	This User or Group Pays It Forward. Get a revive, give a revive.