Calvin Duerksen
STATS
What Stats?
Level
20-something
Rank:
Sergeant
Allies
The AZS.
Cause thats the group I'm in dummie.
Current:
Class: Military
Location: Somewhere
HP: ?
EXP: ?
AP:?
The Revolution
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BOOM! CRACK!
"Seven."
BOOM! CRACK!
"Eight, if I get this next one you owe me a beer."
The last zombie lurched across the street wearing a red, grey and blood biker jacket. His beard was almost completely gone... in fact most of his face was almost gone.
"We ran out of beer last week, laddie."
"Says you."
THUNK!
The zombie was at the front door of the house now, and banging on it hard.
Calvin aimed his revolver out of the upstairs window of the gun shop he used to work at. A old brick building that was sturdy against any kind of disaster.
"All right, you’re..." Calvin centered his sights on the zombie‘s head, pulled the trigger... and missed.
"Crap."
"Ha! Ya still need more practice, eh boyo"
"Whatever, man. I still want that beer."
The zombie was continuing to bang on the front door... and was making dents.
"You gonna tae care of tha, or wha."
"I’m on break riiiiight... now." Calvin said sarcastically, pointing at his watch.
"Okae, Okae, I’ll take care of it."
"Don’t go in the kitchen, I’m still trying to find your beer stash." Calvin said from the kitchen. "And don’t shoot it in the foot like last time..."
The fog was thick as the sun began to rise over Malton. Bits of light burned their way through the fog, making beams of sunlight shoot through. Things weren’t the same since the outbreak happened, it was hard to keep track since all the calendars had been burned or used for toilet paper. Necrotech had something to do with it... Calvin knew, but wasn’t gonna try to find out, exactly. Too busy trying to find out where that beer was.
Chapter Two
"Hey Aidan, I found your beer stash," Calvin opened the beer in his hand.
"O' yeah," Aiden McGregor replied questioningly.
"Yeah, under the sink." Calvin took a big gulp of the Budweiser in his hand. "Gonna have to move i' now, eh."
Aidan was your typical Irishman... in the sense that he had red hair and appreciated a good Irish beer any day, although in Great Briton and especially Malton, Irish beer was hard to come by. Aidan also owned the gun shop they were hiding out in now, and Calvin was a employee there before the outbreak.
"Oh yeah, we're running out of food too, so stop eating so much, fatty," Calvin remarked.
"Your the fat one, boyo," McGregor said.
"Says you."
Chapter Three
Journal 1
I am writing this now on some paper that I found. I don't even really know where here is. I don't even know why I'm writing this. I guess to pass the time or something. Now let's see, it all started after I found Aidan McGregor's beer hideout, which was under the sink. Anyway, a couple hours after this we're all passed out and drunk, playing poker. How this is the important thing, he must of left the door unlocked after he killed that biker zombie or more came or something, but the next thing we know is that they're walking in the front door! We, drunk, thought that was funny and we started pointing and laughing at them. Poor Aidan, he was closest to them. The next thing he knows is that their all over him. Man, I must have ran up those stairs fast, cause the next thing I know is that I locked myself in the bathroom. Luckily, I had my gun with me and maybe five or six bullets, it's all hazy, maybe I had even less. Suddenly, I hear pounding on the bathroom door. Damn those zombies must have been fast. Thinking I have nothing left to lose and still drunk, I, charge out the bathroom door, flailing around, shooting my revolver, going crazy on the zombies. I don't know if I hit any, cause I fell back down the stairs. I feel pretty stupid thinking about it now. But, the zombies stayed up on the second floor. It was pretty weird to tell you the truth. I ran out the door and onto the street, looking for a safe place to hide. I, luckily, found a building to my right, across the street and ran to it. I think the rest is self-explanatory.
End of Journal 1
Chapter Four
Journal 2
Turns out this building was a old deli of some kind. At least there's meat and water here. I gonna need it to, turns out theirs more zombies here than yesterday. I'll have to be-
CRAAAACCCKK!
"What the-" Calvin turned his head toward the sound. The door was getting pounded on.
CRASH!
Just as the door broke down, two zombies stumbled in the deli. Calvin reached for his revolver and shot his remaining two rounds at them. Only one zombie went down. The other was already on top of him. As they both fell to the floor, the zombie was looking for the best place to bite. Calvin frantically looked around on the ground for something he could use to defend himself. He spotted a chair leg.
"Ah!"
Calvin reached for the broken chair leg, but his hand was just out of reach. By then the zombie found what it was looking for and took a bite out of Calvin's lower neck.
"Argh!"
The last thing that Calvin saw was a bright spray of red coming out of the zombies head.
Then darkness.
Chapter Five
Calvin woke up in bed, an osmotic IV in his arm, and nearby monitors displaying his vital signs, blood composition, and brain-oxygen levels.
He surmised he was in a hospital, although there was no call button, and no obvious door. There was also a camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling.
He lowered the bed's railing and swung his legs over the edge. Pain lanced up his side. Cracked ribs- he must of broken them when the zombie fell on him. Bruises covered his skin; they were especially livid on his shoulders, stomach, and neck. He checked in the mirror for injuries, and then ran his hand over the long black stubble on his head and face. He then ran his hand where the zombie bit him, it was smooth with no scars of any kind. He was intact... but how long had he been unconscious?
The wall slid apart and a balding man entered. He wore a lab coat with Necrotech insignias on his shoulders. His dark eyes fixed on Calvin.
"Uh... hi," Calvin said.
"Hello..."
The scientist's continued stare made Calvin uneasy. In fact, several things contributed to his unease. He was in a Necrotech lab, receiving medical care, but how had he gotten here, and why was Necrotech interested in him?
"I am John Cortez," the scientist said. He then put his hand out to shake.
Calvin took Cortez's hand and gingerly squeezed it.
Cortez. Calvin knew that name. He was the face of Necrotech, always showing up at speeches and appearing on their commercials. He always looked shady to Calvin. Cortez took a seat by the mirror and said, "If you feel well enough, get dressed." Cortez nodded to to the night stand on which was a neatly folded black jacket and a pair of pants and shoes. It just occurred to Calvin that he was only wearing a hospital gown. Calvin removed the osmotic IV patch, and dressed.
"Considering I told you my name, what's yours?" Cortez asked.
"Calvin."
"Yes, but Calvin what? What's you family name?"
"Duerksen."
Calvin zipped up the jacket. It had a Necrotech symbol stitched onto right shoulder.
"Follow me." Cortez moved out of the chair and out of the open doors into a wide hallway, packed with medical supplies. He led Calvin through three intersections.
Many other scientists passed them. They kept to themselves for the most part, eyes down. And while a few nodded to Calvin, no one so much as glanced at Cortez.
Calvin's unease at this odd situation grew palpable.
They halted at a large metal door guarded by two, what looked like soldiers, who saluted. Cortez gave them a casual half-salute gesture. The scientist then set his hand on a biometric reader and face, retina, and palm were simultaneously scanned.
With a hiss, the door opened.
Calvin and Cortez stepped into a dimly-lit twenty-meter-wide room filled wall to wall with monitors. There were several scientists and two faces on the monitors consulting with them in hushed tones. Cortez whisked him across the room and to another door. A second biometric scan and they entered an elevator.
There was downward motion, then a moment of free-fall, and the sensation of gravity returned. The doors opened up to catwalk that extended over inky blackness to a blank wall. The scientist approached the blank wall, a seam appeared, and then the two sections pulled apart.
"This room is called called 'Odin's Eye' by the junior staff," Cortez said. "You have been temporarily granted a code-word top-secret clearance to enter. Whatever said inside is similarly classified and you will reveal none of our conversation unless the proper code words are provided. Do you understand."
"Sure..." Calvin replied.
Calvin's instinct, however, was to not enter this room. He, in fact, wanted to be anyplace but in that room. But he couldn't refuse.
They entered.
The doors closed behind them; Calvin didn't see the seam.
Chapter Six
The room had white concave walls, and Calvin's eyes had a hard time focusing.
"Your classification code word is 'Falcon Forty,'" Cortez said. "Now, speak freely in here, I certainly will." He gestured to a black circular table in the center of the room and they both sat. Like I had a chance to talk, Calvin thought.
"Okay," Calvin said. "Where am I? Why am I here?"
His words seemed to evaporate as he spoke them, deadened by the too-still air in this strange room.
"Of course," Cortez murmured. "Your recovery is not yet complete. I had been warned of that." He sighed. "We have gone to considerable trouble to get you here, without the main branch of Necrotech knowing. A very hard thing to do, I might add."
Calvin shifted in his seat. He remembered the zombie attack in the deli; he blinked and saw for a split second the dizzying blur of stars when the zombie fell on him.
"So..." Calvin said, "am I-"
"Fine," Cortez replied. "Only slight injuries."
Calvin inhaled, feeling his cracked ribs. Yeah, only slight injuries, Calvin thought.
Something changed in the scientist's expression. The dark stare and hardness softened almost an imperceptible fraction. In a lowered voice, Cortez said, "We need your help." He pushed a tablet laptop across the table to Calvin.
Calvin pushed it back to Cortez. "Why should I help you?" Calvin replied. "I don't even know what's going on. As far as I know you caused the zombies to happen. You messed everything up!"
"Well... that's why we need your help and that's all I'm going to say, at the moment. If you really want to know, you'll have to read the laptop." Cortez said, patiently.
Calvin sighed explosively. "Alright..." Calvin remarked, "Let me see it." Cortez pushed the laptop back to Calvin. He thumbed on the power and a colored map appeared on the screen. On it were multiple suburbs of Malton, most of them were red, in fact only seven of the one hundred suburbs were green, and another fourteen were orange.
While Calvin was looking at the map, Cortez said "There are some aspects of Necrotech that would like to see that whole map in red. We..." He made a wide sweeping gesture with his arms. "Are trying to make sure that doesn't happen."
"So... what about all that we went through to get here?" Calvin asked.
"If you couldn't tell already," Cortez said, still patiently, "we are in a bunker underneath the Button building, so that when the zombies overrun Malton, they would have been spared. We... took it from them and it is now our base of operations, in this part if Malton." Cortez swiveled the laptop so that he could see it and highlighted an orange suburb. "We are here," he exclaimed. The suburb he highlighted said, Old Arkham.
"So are you in?" Cortez asked.
"Let me get this straight, you want me... to help you... take back all of those suburbs... by myself," Calvin replied.
"Oh no, not by yourself, you think we could run an operation with only one person? You'll have help, " Cortez assured him.
"I doubt you'll let me walk out of here if I refuse," Calvin said, "so I guess I have no choice. I'm in."
"Good to have you on board," Cortez said. They both stood up. "This is for you," Cortez reached in his pocket and pulled out a Necrotech Access Card with Calvin's face on it. "This will get you anywhere in this building." Calvin took the card and pocketed it. "Uh-huh, anything else?" Calvin asked.
"Nope, I'll see you in the morning, then you can meet your new teammates," Cortez said.
Chapter Seven
Clicking one of the bright yellow magnets to the metal wall, Jacob Brown moved on through labyrinthine laboratory. At every junction he would pause, listening to the occasional shuffling footsteps in the distance, attach an yellow magnet to the wall to find his way back, consult the small map and then moving on with purpose.
Four hours earlier he had been ordered by Necrotech to enter the lab and find Susan Winters. She had in turn been tasked by the Chief executive with some sort of experiment. No one other than the Chief, Susan and her loyal ‘assistants’ knew what was going on down in the old military lab, but everyone had seen the assistants bringing stray zombies in from the wastelands. People had complained initially, worried that Necrotech was playing god with the turned. Dissent had been quelled after power had suddenly surged back through the Copeland building's power grid.
With a new wave of popularity, volunteers were numerous. ‘Retrieval Squads’ were arranged to patrol the immediate suburb, capturing the wandering dead with barbed staves, dragging undead bodies back to the lab and down into its depths.
And then five hours earlier the power had cut out. Panicked employees rushed to the Chief's office, demanding answers. The Chief marched to the lab, only to find the guards had abandoned their posts and the entrance doors flung open, exposing the dark empty corridors within. Jacob had been chosen as the most capable, and armed with a pistol, knife and a bag of luminous tracker magnets he had, entered the darkened lab.
—
He paused, and looked around; from behind him he could hear a metallic scraping sound. As the noise grew louder, Jacob crouched, stood still and peered into the gloom. Ahead stretched a large vaulted room, blackened windows looking down at the dark empty space, where a large undead man lurched. Dragging its shoulder on the wall, off balance, it moved toward him. Jacob slowly drew the knife, holding his ground as the zombie reached toward him with bloated fingers. Ducking under its reach Jacob swiftly thrust the knife upward, toward its throat, but with a loud clang the knife bounced off, he thrust again, aiming for the eye socket, again the knife skittered away. Recoiling he kicked out at the zombies chest, throwing it to the ground and in one swift movement, drew his flashlight, shining the bright beam down on the zombie as it pulled itself toward him.
Jacob groaned. The zombie was covered in crude metal plates, each one riveted to different parts of its body. To its head Jacob could see a crudely welded helm of metal, vicious bolts anchoring it to its skull. Under its chin a flat metal bar, and in front of its eyes, two round metal circlets, held in place with bloodstained screws. Every weak point had been reinforced by the metal plating.
Jacob began to panic and scrabbled for his holstered pistol. As he did so the zombie pushed itself up, wobbling toward him, off balance from a loose plate on its leg, it threw itself on top of its prey. Jacob managed to squeeze a round off, dislodging a plate bolted to the armored monstrosities forehead, before its blackened mouth came crashing down, tearing into his nose and brow.
Watching from the observation deck Susan made a note on her clipboard. Turning to the technician behind she spoke with a hiss, "The test is over, get the generators back online, we have more work to do."
Whatchamacallits
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This User > Jesus
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| This user claims to be better than Jesus
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Why is capitalism superior to communism?
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| "Because I get to have sex on a huge pile of money while you work to feed your lazy brothers." -???
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Rebel Yell
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| Calvin Duerksen resists the invader in the name of freedom.
Odds be damned! Wolverines!!!
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Pyromaniac
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| Calvin Duerksen is a pyro and proud of it.
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Rebellion
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| IS NOT TERRORISM
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DEM Ally
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| Calvin Duerksen is an ally of the DEM
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Strategy Maker
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| This user is great at making strategies to get out of sticky situations even if things seem hopeless.
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Scout/Sniper
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| This User is capable of a 1000yd HeadShot
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Body Count
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| Calvin Duerksen has killed alot of zombies.
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GKers Suck
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| This group thinks that destroying generators is a pussy move.
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Contact me by
user talk: user talk:Calvin Duerksen
email: Gullible@aol.com... maybe
Return to group
Anti-zombie squad
Supported Policies
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Capitalism
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| This User or Group supports the ideals of Capitalism as well as its reintegration into Malton society.
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