Log #1417

Who to trust.

Ruby, 28, New York, NY.
Infected. Turning.
Trust rating: 0

Stella, 48, Sacramento, CA.
Might be working on a cure.
Trust rating: -10

Fran, 21, Bend, OR.
Seems off with me.
Trust rating: +6

Gabrielle, 28, San Diego, CA.
Turning Fran against me.
Trust rating: -3

Javier, 23, Tijuana, Mexico.
Infected. Not turning.
Trust rating: -2

Wendel, 26, El Centro, CA.
Noisy and annoying.
Trust rating: -1

Joel, 32, Sacramento, CA.
Professional. Smart.
Trust rating: 2

Kelvin, 17, San Diego, CA.
Witty kid, with Joel.
Trust rating: 2

Bridget, 36, Eugene, OR.
Strong, gritty.
Trust rating: 2
Twenty-two hundred.

I was a day late. I didn’t realise until ten past midnight, when I was in the lobby and Ruby wasn’t. I checked my laptop, and she’d written that Read Me log a day before I thought she had. I could’ve sworn I’d checked the log that night, but it seems I didn’t.

I hoped Ruby would still be in the building and went looking for her.

There was a ladder up to the first floor balcony that hadn’t been there before. Took me a while to convince myself to climb up and then once I had it took me another while to decide which way I should go. I didn’t know my way around the building, didn’t know what exactly Ruby was looking for, and obviously I couldn’t call out to her. So it was trial and error. I went through the building, guessing at what might be where going off how my building was laid out. Finding only the same carnage I’d come across with Pen.

As I moved up the floors I started hearing noises. Being midnight, it was dark. I had a little torch strapped to my outer flak jacket. As I turned the light moved across the walls. My left arm is still strapped up. In my right hand I carried my pistol.

I’ve said before that it’s hard to believe this place can get scarier and scarier, but honestly, I nearly died of fright. My pulse was racing like the back beat of a trance song. And those noises… like a giant, squealing rat, burning on the coals of Hell. They made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. They made me hesitate, every time they rattled through the corridors. I had to stifle my own breathing.

It quickly became clear which room the noises were coming from. I closed in on it, at the end of the corridor. There was broken glass on the floor so I had to tread carefully. In fact, I had to slow right down. There was a crunch with every step I took. Seemed inevitable that I’d be found. But then when I peered into the room, there was one Infected, and it wasn’t paying any attention to me whatsoever. It had its left arm elbow-deep into a door that was crushing closed against it.

As my torch light moved across it, it screeched. It turned around and tried to run at me. But its arm was trapped in the door. It jolted to a stop with the sickening crunch of bone. Its lipless mouth snapped open and closed. Its right hand reached toward me, fingers all bent out of shape. Then it lurched at me again and the withered skin around its elbow tore. The rotten muscle split in shreds.

I moved around the edge of the room, so that when I did shoot it the bullet wouldn’t end up going through the door and into the storage cupboard. Just as I got into the corner of the otherwise empty room, the tendons in the arm popped and it broke free.

That’s when I shot it in the face.

With hindsight, I wish I hadn’t. I wish I’d hit it with something. But I only have one working arm, and I didn’t want to put my gun down. You’ve always got to be conscious of something coming up behind you. You’ve always got to be ready for more of them. There’s very rarely only one.

There were more of them coming off the bat. I asked out for Ruby but she didn’t reply. I went to the door to the storage cupboard and tried to pull it open but there was something holding it. When I reached inside to try and find out what it was I found a rope around the handle. I peered through the gap and called Ruby again. She grabbed my hand. I saw her face in the light of my torch. Splattered with blood.

The sounds of other Infected drawing close rattled my nerves. I told Ruby to get the door open but she shook her head. She growled at me to get out of there. But even if I wanted to, there was nowhere I could go. When I turned around there was another Infected in the room, and a third in the doorway behind it. I shot them both, spending four bullets, but another two of the things appeared. I took aim, then Ruby snatched me from behind. She pulled me into the cupboard and frantically retied the rope around the door handle.

Took me a few minutes to calm down from the shock. Didn’t help that the Infected were banging and scratching at the door. Or that I only had sixteen bullets left. Or that Ruby was covered with Infected blood. I still figured that things could’ve been worse. And I kept saying that in my head, trying to convince myself that everything would be fine.

We were in there for more than a day and a half, talking about what the virus was, how it had started, if it could be stopped. I asked her if she thought it could’ve somehow left the continent found its way to Europe and she told me there was no way. It has been contained for years, and it isn’t going to suddenly jump across oceans. There are too many people devoted to ensuring it doesn’t. Everyone knows what it is, and everyone knows what’s at stake if it gets into a green zone.

I suspect she’s only saying that because she knows I have family in Europe but that might just be the pessimist in me.

It was just coming up to one in the afternoon when we heard gunshots. Was almost half an hour later that a voice shouted at us, and a fist banged on the door.

She’s called Bridget and she is by her own definition hardcore. We gave her some food, she gave us some ammunition, and we sat around talking about what we’d do next. Ruby was adamant that we had to continue looking for clues. We had to find out what this Alaskan Object was. She was insistent that we’d find everything we were looking for in the rooms on that floor. She scattered some papers around on the floor between us. Autopsy reports, mostly, but there were pages and pages of chemical equations, all these numbered theories and scribbled ideas.

Ruby said there was something missing. She said there were clues, but that there was something missing and that we had to find it.

Bridget said she wanted nothing to do with itshe said she was only out to take back her country from the “zombie mother f***ers”. Ruby told her that if she came along she’d get to kill dozens of Infected. I told her that if she helped us she could come back to the Station and be in charge of security. And I think that swayed her. I think she likes the idea of responsibility; it’s strange how when you’re on your own, looking out for yourself, you need to be part of a community, need to have a role, need to have responsibilities.Need to have some semblance of a life.

We went through the rest of the rooms together, Ruby, Bridget and I, picking out all the important papers we could find. Another couple of Infected found us every few minutes, and the stream of them started to build up the longer we spent looking around. Before we knew it the sun had set and we were out of time. We ended up having to shut ourselves in the room we were in, blocking the doors and hunkering down in the corner. Infected banging on the door. Trying and failing to get in.

While we were in that room I took apart every computer I could find and hoarded the hard drives. I haven’t finished checking them yet, but so far there’s been nothing of any interest. Seems like everyone’s stored on a central server, which makes sense, but Ruby says that she’s accessed the central server and looked through it all and there’s nothing in there. So I don’t know.

The next day we opened the door and Bridget cleared the way extremely effectively using her double-barrelled shotgun. She led the way with Ruby and I following close behind, down all the stairs and around the balconies until we were back down the ladder and in the lobby.

Twenty-three fifty-five. I need to sleepso incredibly drained right now. Next log tomorrow about Joel and Kelvin and Sergio when I’m more awake.

– Titouan Denaux