User:Patrick MacManus/History Chapter 1

In the Mind of Patrick MacManus

Patrick MacManus/History/Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Notes

Chapter 1 The Beginning

To begin the interview I pull out a note pad, a couple of pens, and a tape recorder. Before I press the record button I ask him if it is okay to record so that way my book may be as accurate as possible. He says nothing but just ways his hand as he starts to light the remains of his cigarette, then stops what he is doing suddenly.

"Would it be okay if I smoked while doing the interview?" he asked.

I said it was fine, and he went back to lighting the cigarette. Then I look at him press record and let him know I am ready when he is ready.

(taking a drag from the cigarette)

Let me start from the beginning. For a few years the quarantine was the main thing on the news. How basically nothing could be done and just updating us on if anyone or anything tried to escape. how they were containing it inside the walls and not letting any survivors or zombies cross the lines. It seemed nothing could be done, soldiers sent in daily to their own death, many women and children still stuck behind the lines.

Helicopters hovered over the town daily. It was shown on the news. At least two hovering in the footage at a time. Yet somehow they were never able to pull people out? It was just ridiculous. I had heard about someone who new of a way to get in and out of the city but was only telling those who would do something for him. He was a hot shot executive for some idiot company that I have no care for.

(seeming to thing of the name while taking another drag, then shaking his head.)

Well anyways, I was ex-military and I thought it wouldn't be the worst idea of me going into the city to try and either help or just earn some extra cash. I went and saw the man and he said that he would pay me if I could locate some important and incriminating files for him inside the red zone.

He told me that the money would be worth it, and that I would be ('sarcastically) "doing a public service." pfft, whatever. I just wanted the money and a way to get in on some action. He told me that the underground railways hadn't been totally blocked off and that to get in would take about a two or three day walk.

He had me air lifted to the spot where the railways go underground about a dozen miles away from the walls. There was no one guarding the area, so I assume that he must have paid off the soldiers or there were guards closer to the wall. Inside the tunnel was a dirt bike with some equipment but limited ammo. The dirt bike had just enough gas to get me maybe halfway to the wall. Which was good so I didn't make my presence known and I could take some by surprise.

The railways got harder and harder to navigate the closer to the wall I got. At one point it seemed as if it were impossible. I eventually had to crawl through destroyed structures, over barricades, and swim through tunnels. There was little resistance from the security nothing I couldn't take out with a little stealth and some over the top gunning.

(muttering)I wish I hadn't done that though...

(takes another drag from the cigarette)

Well anyways I got in with some hard work. Ironically I entered a living, breathing, shitting Hell on the night of Halloween. Ironic isn't it? Well I got into the city. I found it hard to get anywhere without some of the experience that some of the veteran survivors had. The quickly taught me in trade for some first aid kits. I learned how to move to adjacent buildings without stepping onto the dangerous streets. I learned some major gun and hand to hand combat skills too. It seemed that the military hadn't trained me at all.

Well I eventually made my way to the building. Once I found the spot, according to the coordinates, I had found that the building had been burned down and that it was basically a wasteland. I had found a way of contacting the guy after I found the building destroyed. He was very pissed of and told me there was no way of getting back out.

At that news I was very pissed off and just sulked around doing nothing. Then I found a group who was trying to keep a suburb from falling to the ravenous horde of zombies plaguing the area. I decided to help them to try and find my purpose in the city. One day after working with this group I noticed another group who wasn't doing anything but getting drunk and holding down there bar, the group that the group I was working with was named after.

I eventually got fed up with their lack of help and shot down their leader. He accepted me into the pub to help defend it. I had a child who was seeking safety there reload and clean my guns for some gems while I slept. Once I had waken up with enough energy I attacked the leader. A man by the name of Zombra, or that is what he called himself. He always had something to say, about how he was going to help or lead them on to safety. An egotistical sod, that one.

I emptied my shotgun on him first, then shooting him two more times in the back while he was looking out for the pub to make sure none of the zeds broke in. He dropped off of his perch, blood filling up his lungs and making him gurgle. I laughed at him as he lay there bleeding all over the pub. Then I lunged down at him with a knife I found in a museum. Nice little thing, made of copper and had runes or something on it.

I then fled to a club nearby for the safety. See, the clubs and cinemas were pitch black unless there was a fueled generator inside to make the lights turn on. I was safe from the drunks for at least a few days. I decided to go back a few days later to see them again just drinking and having a good time while the others worked to keep the city safe.

(Finishes his cigarette.)

I walked in to see him sleeping in the back room. Not even one person who say me recognized me which made it easier. I found him sleeping on a cot in the back. I stood there before shooting him twice in the head. I then proceeded to run out the back door, and into a neighboring building.

I stopped as I head foot steps coming my way. I feared that it was my time to see the harshness of the other end of the gun. I then hear they are the footsteps of a zed as it walked by the door on the first floor. I closed the window after it walked by.

After that, I was recognized every time I stepped inside of the pub and even the leader of the group, that miserable sod, sent hit men after me. Now I have yet to figure out what anyone could be paid with in the city but it must have been good enough for this guy to find and kill me.

Even death wasn't the end in the city. I just had to find some sorry sod to stick me with a needle to revive my sorry corpse. I realized that stick a note to myself would be the best way for someone walking up to my statue like corpse to get the idea to revive me.

Eventually I realized that I was no longer wanted amongst the other survivors for my choices. A group came to me to ask me to join their ranks. I decided to join them in hopes of an easier way to work, with revives at the ready and working in a pack to bring down enemies.

Chapter 2 Notes