OUTBREAK: A Survival RP (IC/ENDED)

[Wallenburg]

Captain Ryan Scholl || USS Harry S. Truman || Day 31

The captain raised an eyebrow. "You should know I don't tolerate freeloaders. Even the civilians on this ship help to clean and cook. Some even fish. If you aren't under my command, exactly what role will you be fullfilling onboard the Truman?"

[Laurvier]

USS Harry S. Truman

Keegan looked at him, confused. "The role assigned to me by the Secretary of the Navy. Attache to your fleet. Here to observe, report and seize command if need be. Fleet command is giving you wide breadth on how to conduct yourselves so that the peace remains intact but you did not think they would trust you all entirely yet did you?"

"If you like I can take command during your off-duty hours if it is so necessary for me to serve a greater purpose here." He offered.

[Wallenburg]

Captain Ryan Scholl || USS Harry S. Truman || Day 31

Scholl silenced a groan building up in his throat. He pulled out his personal radio and set its frequency to Channel Alpha.

"Alpha, this is Scholl. I'm calling about Keegan's stay on the Truman."

"Alpha is busy," droned Markey's desk clerk.

"Well, what about Keegan?"

"My records say he is to stay there as an observer. Nothing else."

The captain cut the transmission. "I'm not the dog that needs leashing in this relationship," he grumbled. "I suppose you may observe the ship and its operations. But show one inkling of interest in taking command and I will see you court-marshalled for mutiny."

[Laurvier]

USS Harry S. Truman

"I believe you are mistaken in how this new dynamic works Captain. As per terms of the treaty a naval attache appointed by the Secretary of the Navy has the authority to relieve you and seize command should your decisions become too questionable. Right now that person is me and I advise you not to forget that. I really want to believe in your loyalty and devotion to the United States. So either comply with the arrangement or I can report your lack of cooperation to our superiors." Keegan answered mechanically with hands behind his back.

"Now, if you insist on me doing more, I am happy to take charge of your duties during your off-hours then stepping down upon your returns. I would not be relieving you of your command, as I would be loathe to do, in this particular instance. Just filling a gap. Otherwise, I will perform the task ordered of me as attache and commanding officer of the Ascension."

USS Harry S. TrumanBoston, Commander Keegan Gilroy

Inside, calling himself Secretary of Foreign Affairs for the United States had Keegan disapproving but he did not show it. Instead, he pulled out a slip from his pocket. Just a few notes he had jotted down to help him remember. "These are terms of peace. Brought forth by the powers that be." He introduced.

"Boston and it's military forces both naval, ground and air shall surrender to the United States." To start off, it seemed quite harsh.

"As per terms of your surrender, the United States demands and offers the following terms. First, all military personnel under your command shall be disbanded then given full pardon for their crimes of mutiny and treason. Including Captain Ryan Scholl." Keegan rattled off.

"All disbanded troops shall be given the opportunity to be reinstated with their former positions, commendations and ranks as members of the United States armed forces on a volunteer basis. The carrier group of the USS Harry S. Truman shall be set to mission defending the Boston area and the United States indefinitely...." Keegan adjusted his glasses. "...under the command of Captain Ryan Scholl and his subsequent successors to be appointed by the Governor of the new reorganized district of Boston."

"Ed Markey and his subsequent successors, provided they are democratically elected, shall be made Governor of Boston under the United States. The government of Boston shall be given jurisdiction in all matters of local government that was granted to the states by the Constitution."

"Captain Ryan Scholl and his appointed successors shall be given command of the USS Harry S. Truman carrier group with indefinite standing orders to defend the Boston district and ensure its well being. A naval attache from fleet command shall oversea all military operations ensuring their alignment with United States policy. This includes powers to relieve the CO of command should there be any deviation from, violation, incompetence, negligence or reckleckness in the carrying out of his or her duties. At this time the attache to be appointed is Commander Keegan Gilroy who will remain in that position indefinitely."

He folded up the paper and put it away. "We can discuss the other alternative too. But I doubt you'll like it."

[Wallenburg]

Lauren Clark || Schenectady, New York || Day 31

The group had left early in the morning, quickly eating and packing up before any villager woke up. Having refueled in Binghamton, they were now on the last leg of their journey, about to cross into the state of Massachusetts. Boston would be their next stop.

The group entertained one another with stories about their pasts, especially before the infection. Rebecca had been a police officer, rooting out gang criminals in Chicago. Hugh and Lauren described their lives in New York. Lamar was unusually quiet and difficult to crack, but eventually the group got him to spill out some details.

"Did you ever think of starting a family?" asked Rebecca to Hugh and Lauren.

"Well, we weren't even married yet," said Hugh. "I'd be surprised if we were."

Lauren tensed up. The thought of raising a child in this world was hard to cope with. Her younger sister had given birth as a teen, and it had ruined her life. She couldn't imagine even surviving when society had totally collapsed and the cries of a newborn would effectively ring a dinner bell to the countless infected. And worst of all--no. It can't be. It isn't an option if Boston turns out to be rubble. She buried her last thought deep within her mind, frightened by its power.

"Switching highways. Got that, Lamar?" she said as the car rose over a bridge and came back down on an intersecting highway.

"Got it. Schenectady, and New York, will both be behind us very soon."

Captain Ryan Scholl || USS Harry S. Truman || Day 31

"Whatever. My XO and the second officer will continue to take shifts with me as bridge commander. Now, let me get a seaman to find you an empty quarters." He whispered to a passing ensign to find a seaman, and soon an enlisted man was guiding Keegan through the wardroom and to his quarters.

[Laurvier]

USS Harry S. Truman

The quarters were actually more spacious than what he was use to. Submarines did not have the best accommodations. Some in the crew even had to hot rack (sleep in another's bunk while they were on duty). That was not needed anymore given their shortage on crewmen. He had no personal belongings at this time. Only another blue poopy suit to change into. More items could be procured later as Keegan expected this to be a long terms stay. Making sure everything was in order he returned to the CIC, a smile on his face as he did.

"The quarters are quite suitable Captain. I thank you. These civilians I've seen on the ship...I would cite naval code but I suppose the situation warrants it. Ha!" He laughed at his own joke cheerfully. "Now...the sonobuoys that were dropped when you were hunting me. I suggest you send out men to recover them. They don't grow on trees do they? You never know if there'll be a next time you have to hunt a sub."

"I should like to study your ship's log if you please. Need to educate myself on what this carrier group has been up to the last few months. I also should like to see our engagement from your perspective. Perhaps there are some suggestions I could make about your anti-submarine warfare tactics. It is a tricky task I'll admit."

[Beiarusia]

New Evanston

Pain: that was the first thing to greet the girl.

It had happened so fast, the chaos of the attack. Sam had saw the coming panic from her spot beneath the tree and had only just made it to the dormitory when the blast shook through the compound, tossing her aside like paper caught in the breeze, the wall closest to the source crumbling away in the billowing heat. The girl had been lucky, so close to being crushed by the debris of her former home, escaping immediate death with only scratches to mar her flesh. Her breathing was heavy as she pushed herself up, blood dripping from her nose and mouth to pool beneath her, a tooth lying in the center, a white island in a sea of red.

She stood, slowly, head spinning, the pain feeling worse than it actually was. No bones were broken and, despite a possible slight concussion, Sam was surprisingly okay. Moving on tepid steps, she made her way down the ruined staircase, the twisted skeleton of the building protesting the abuse. Some structural element gave way as the staircase lurched violently, the girl falling the last few steps and landing hard on her knees, pain biting away from the impact. Gritting her teeth, she continued, finding the main floor no better than those above.

Laying near what had once been the front door of the dormitory was Akiyama, back to the wall, blood seeping from a leg wound, fatigues torn and shredded from some unknown trauma. One hand held tightly to the utility bag as if the khaki fabric were a lifebuoy, the other manhandling a small radio as she yelled into it.

“Does anyone read? This is Akiyama! Intel is… fuck. Did anyone make it out?!” The woman cursed out loud as she tossed the radio as far as she could, shattering it against the floor some feet away. The ASF unit had been preparing for an emergency exfil when everything went south. No response from her men: likely KIA, and she would most probably be joining them soon enough. “Fuck my life. Damn it all!”

Rubble shifted nearby as someone approached. Akiyama had her sidearm drawn and raised in half a second, drawing a bead before allowing it to drop, Sam standing before her with terrified eyes.

Moments later the two were departing, the injured woman leaning against the young girl, pushing pass the rubble and stepping out into the ruins of the compound. The bomb had caused complete devastation, gutting the armory and leveling Vincent’s house, the dormitory barely standing as it was. No living person greeted them, the dead being all that remained, those caught too close to the blast be little more than twisted limbs and stains in the dirt. Akiyama took in the destruction with cold eyes; Sam averted her gaze.

Vincent.

Luke.

Did they make it out? Or were they…

There was silence as the two crossed the yard, the sound of gunfire dying away to that of primal howling in the distance. Infected, drawn to the compound like vultures to a battlefield, intent on feasting on those who were lucky enough to avoid one brush with death only to walk into another.

“We find a car,” Akiyama said, more to herself than to Sam, knowing of the girl’s disability but finding that speaking aloud was more definitive than merely thinking it. “We find one, and head towards Detroit. Meet up with oh-six.”

Picking through the ruined gate, they were greeted by a man lying prone against the grass, injured but most certainly alive. Sam stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing him, her heart skipping in a beat. She recognized the face. One that she had not known long but a familiar face all the same.

It was Foley.

“You,” muttered Akiyama upon seeing the wounded man before her, the Atlas vest he wore standing out like a beacon in the darkness. He was not one her own. “You’re one of them. The ambush. This is your fault. Grimm died because…” Her weapon was raised now. “You killed him!”

She opened fire.

Round after round tore into the dirt beside the man, missing their mark as Sam pushed herself into the woman, faltering her aim upon seeing what was about to transpire. Both fell to the ground, Sam atop of Akiyama, hands pressed down upon her shoulders, her look pleading. The woman tried to get up but was held down by the girl. The soldier brought back her hand, driving the fist into Sam’s side and knocking the girl off of herself. Akiyama scrambled to her feet, limping forward, struggling so that she could stand above the man and put a bullet through his head.

Sam tackled Akiyama, barreling into her and bringing them both down once more. There was a struggle to disentangle themselves from one another which ended with Sam frozen in place, the barrel of the weapon pressed against her throat, the grey eyes of Akiyama drilling in her with mix look of pain and fury. For a long moment all was still, the soldier so close to breaking in her steadfast devotion of mission first, ready to deliver some meager vengeance knowing full well that she wouldn’t survive this ordeal

A sound drew her attention.

Foley, against all odds, was on his feet now.

Akiyama didn’t hesitate, swinging the weapon to take aim, intent on killing the man. Sam fell onto her, pinning the woman’s arm with her full weight as she grasped at the kevlar vest, fingers brushing against the handle of a knife. It slid free of its sheath with a ragged pull. Akiyama brought the gun up to fire into the girl, faster than she was and capable of killing her three times over. But she didn’t. She hesitated.

Grimm.

Her entire unit.

All had died believing in the mission, sacrificing themselves for a greater cause than their own, and who was she to derail that belief now. To make their deaths meaningless. The desire to belong to a cause was much more than that of self preservation, a thought that no matter how brief was enough for all the difference to be made.

The knife missed the kevlar entirely, driving into flesh just above the clavicle, the blade burying itself into a fatal blow. Akiyama went limp, all strength leaving her as blood flowed freely. Grey eyes, hard as stone, cracking now along the edges as she gazed up to the girl sitting atop her, tears streaming down a filthy face, one that held a look of determination that far outweighed the horror of it all.

But there was no masking the pain behind those eyes.

Akiyama knew that the girl could not hear her, but speaking made the coming darkness not as bleak as she had feared it to be. Perhaps some good to come now to those disaster of a mission. Maybe she won’t have died in vain. In dying breaths she told the girl her final message. “Take the bag. Keep… it safe. And don’t… don’t die.” A long pause, breath ragged and failing. “I… I’m sorry that… we never found him.”

The woman passed moments later, Sam atop her, the determination that she had held onto with shaking hands giving way, the girl breaking down in lamentous sorrow. Sorrow for world. Sorrow for her friends. Sorrow for her father.

She could only weep as Foley watched on.

[New Grestin]

| EPILOGUE | SARAH DECKARD | REPUBLIC OF TEXAS | 2018 | THREE YEARS LATER |

"Sarah"

She stirred.

"Sarah. Wake up."

Her eyes flicked open, falling upon Paulson's face. His stubble was starting to grow out again. Sarah groaned and laid up, brushing her hair out of her face. She paused at the edge of the bed for a moment.

"What's, uh, what's up?"

Paulson crossed his arms and leaned against a nearby wall. Afternoon light fluttered in through the shades, casting the room in a low amber hue. Sarah briefly looked around. The entire building was only a couple hundred square feet and two rooms, but it was free, so she didn't exactly have much room to complain. Paulson wandered over to the area they'd chosen as a kitchen, grabbing a protein bar off the rickety table and tossing it to her.

"Jackson came by earlier, said they had someone you needed to talk to."

She raised an eyebrow, peeling open the wrapper and biting into the bar. It tasted like cardboard, sure, but it was better than most of Paulson's cooking. She looked over to him. He'd had begun cleaning the small pile of dishes on the nearby counter.

"I told them I was taking a day off."

He didn't even look at her as he spoke.

"Yeah, they mentioned that. Said they didn't care. Apparently it's important."

Sarah rolled her eyes and stood, pulling a pair of warn-out jeans off the floor and sliding them on.

"Did they say who it was?"

She threw on a plaid button-up over her tank-top, tying her hair off as she did. Paulson shrugged.

"Nope. I tried to find out what was up, but they said they'd only talk to you."

She finished off by sliding a rough leather holster onto her pants, a pistol still sitting inside. The magazine was loaded and the safety was off. Shit, Sarah thought. I told him I'd stop doing that. She turned back to Paulson. Old habits die hard, I guess.

"Alright, fine, whatever."

She quickly slipped into a pair of boots and headed for the door, Paulson called out to her as she shoved it open.

"Hey, are you cooking tonight?"

She briefly turned back, rolling her eyes and smiling.

"Yeah. Don't touch anything. You remember last time you did dinner?"

He scratched his head awkwardly.

"Yeah, that was, um, yeah."

She laughed and shut the door behind her. A sharp, hot wind blasted her in the face as she stepped outside. People wandered between the buildings of the town. The whole village was built atop the remains of an old military camp, FEMA, if she recalled correctly. The two of them had arrived just as the town was starting out. After a few bandit raids, she ended up as an impromptu deputy. It was nice to be working again, even if she never really got any breaks. The whole town was only a handful of buildings, most of them constructed in the years since she'd arrived. Houses, a trading post, a ranger station, and supposedly they were supposed to be getting power down their way, but Sarah didn't put much stock in the idea. Walking past the trading post, she waved to Carl. He returned it. He'd been working there for the last year, having shown up on a bike a couple days into September. He'd been deathly ill and only weighed about 70 pounds, yet somehow he'd traveled all the way from the west coast on a BMX bike. The post seemed like it'd been getting a lot of business lately.

"Something going on?"
"Nothing. Don't worry about it."
"Alrighty then. You hear the news?"
"Yeah, about the dam up north. Hey, listen, I gotta take off."
"No problem."

Pushing the door to the ranger station open, Sarah was greeted by a handful of Republic soldiers. They all wore fairly generic looking soldier uniforms, combined with combat vests. Some wore helmets, others had removed theirs. Jackson stepped forward. He was a tall, older man, around his early 40s. His face was scruffy and unshaven, a simple trenchcoat and ballcap finishing his "old west sheriff" getup. Sarah shot him an unimpressed look. He spoke quickly, visibly nervous.

"Uh, hey Deckard. Erik said you were asleep."
"Yeah, I was. Thanks for waking me up. What's with the mooks?"

One of the soldiers, probably the commander, chimed in.

"We're Texas Soldiers, Ma'am, not 'mooks'. Your sheriff said you could help us interrogate someone."

She raised an eyebrow.

"And who would that someone be?"
"I'll show you."

He motioned for her to follow, Jackson tailing along close behind. They entered into a nearby room, a one-way mirror separating them from the interrogation room. A table and two chairs sat within, one occupied by a man in pseudo-military garb. Sarah examined the man for a moment, then turned to the commander.

"I'd like to have a word with him, if that's alright."

He nodded.

"Of course."

Sarah turned and sauntered down the hall, her hand just barely touching the doorknob when Jackson called out to her.

"Be careful. He's more dangerous than he lets on."

She shot him a wry smile, her tone firm.

"Funny, because I'm exactly as dangerous as I let on."

She pushed the door open, letting it shut behind her with a loud slam. The man watched her closely as she approached. He was a bit older than she was. Short cut black hair, a little on the pudgy side, a goatee dominating most of his face. She slid into the chair opposite him, taking a deep breath before she spoke. The man cut her off.

"Name and rank withheld, as per my orders."

She returned him a dirty look, then spoke.

"Fine. Who are you working with?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
"Why were you captured?"
"I'm not a liberty to say."

Sighing, Sarah held her head in frustration.

"You're not a liberty to say much, are you?"
"You know what I'm going to say."

She looked back at him. Something stuck her, rather suddenly. A memory, nearly faded, jumped back into the forefront of her mind. He'd lost a bit of weight, that was for sure. Sarah leaned back in her chair, her face solemn. She spoke quickly.

"That's fine. I don't need to know that much about you anyway, because I already know enough, Alan."

---

And that's it for Sarah, folks. Going forward, I'm not going to be posting in the IC, unless absolutely necessary. I do ask that you understand that this is supposed to be the "ending" for my characters, so don't go sending people to Texas expecting to find them. Thanks.

I really enjoyed RPing here and fully intend to keep working with you lovely bunch in the future. I'm simply getting a bit burnt out on the RP and would rather end things with a bang, rather than start putting out sub-par posts. Who knows, maybe if we do a sequel or a spin-off someday, I'll bring her back. That said, her arc is basically over.

I enjoyed the ride, guys. I really did. I'll see you all in the OOC thread, the Pub, or wherever we continue to chit-chat and RP.

[Wallenburg]

Captain Ryan Scholl || USS Harry S. Truman || Day 31

"We've already got some boys out retrieving the sonobuoys. As to the records, I can give you a copy of the logs." Scrambling up to the bridge, he barked, "Ensign!"

A young, petite woman ran up. "Yes, sir?"

"Get me a public copy of the ship's logs."

"Yes, sir."

Returning to the CDC, Scholl guided Keegan out of operations. "We can go over the logs in my quarters. Much easier to read in there, what with minimal lighting in ops."

As he opened the door to his quarters, the ensign came running down the hallway carrying a thick manila folder.

"Ah, thank you, ensign."

"Yes, sir."

They went in and sat down at a wooden table brought in from the shore. Scholl slid the folder over to Keegan, pointing out the two pages of greatest interest.

Day 1: Practicing manuevers with new destroyer squadron.
Day 2:
Viral outbreak has devastated major cities. Victims reported to be violent. Making for Norfolk.
Day 3:
Held in Norfolk for fleetwide health inspection.
Day 4:
Fleet ordered to New York to support quarantine measures.
Day 5:
Received orders to strike the infected population. Estimated 20,000 infected persons neutralized. Collateral damage to healthy population, regretably, possible.
Day 6:
Riots endangering crew, continuing with air strikes alone.
Day 7:
Riots endangering crew, continuing with air strikes. Ordered to land in Manhattan and establish a safe zone.
Day 8:
Safe zone fortified on Manhattan. Healthy population around 7,000.
Day 9:
Riots in safe zone. Healthy population around 11,000 and swelling beyond capacity.
Day 10:
Infected have destroyed safe zone. Mission failed. Contact with Washington lost.
Day 11:
Sailed up to Boston, engaging in air strikes on infected centers.
Day 12:
Landing party established safe zone at city hall.
Day 13:
Safe zone expanding. Refugees taken onto ships.
Day 14:
More crew members devoted to land forces.

[Wallenburg]

Day 15:
Mason refugees have contracted the virus, the ship is falling to pieces.
Day 16:
Mason sunk after radio contact lost. Safe zone expanding with significant survivor presence accelerating growth.
Day 17:
Building fortifications in strategic locations. Ship complement dwindling.
Day 18:
Rationing strictly enforced as supplies dwindle.
Day 19:
Raid on a cargo ship has yielded significant amounts of canned food. Fleet and shore resupplied.
Day 20:
Discovered survivor presence in state house, including Senator Ed Markey.
Day 21:
Fortifications in place. Finishing quarantine of safe zone.
Day 22:
Safe zone secure. Pittsburgh arrived and joined fleet. Teams sent across eastern US to locate survivor strongholds and establish FOBs.
Day 23:
Radio contact with Washington cannot be made. Scholl has declared the safe zone the new United States.
Day 24:
Constitution drafted on Truman. Markey elected President.
Day 25:
Radio broadcasts established to guide survivors to Boston. Estimated population: 10,000.
Day 26:
Unknown hostiles have firebombed much of the city. Several planes shot down, remains indicate a military organization.
Day 27:
Contact made by dissidents within the US military. Extremely hostile. Deemed KOS.
Day 28:
Official schooling reestablished. Total population: 11,788.
Day 29:
Large raider group caused major damage to eastern fortifications.
Day 30:
Ascension laid siege to Boston, forced surrender to dissidents.

Another was a detailed summary of the fleet's account of Keegan's attack, from the apparently calm first encounter to the relieving peace deal late into the day. Scholl waited, letting the commander read the logs. Information on the location of FOBs was redacted, but much of the document remained intact.

"So, commander. What do you think of us? Still traitors? Mutineers?"

[The Union of Courland]

Canadian Provisional Government, Atlantic Fleet:
As the man sitting at the station worked away, he intercepted a broadcast from inside the Boston Safe Zone. He called the Admiral, who burst into the room, grabbed a headset, and listened to the message, which stated that Boston had reunited with the rest of the United States, and how Canadian refugees would be allowed into the Safe Zone if Canada agreed to give up it's ships. The Admiral ordered the fleet to continue to the New Canadian Republic on Prince Edward Island, and sent a message to the Harry S. Truman. It reads as follows:

"While we in Canada are glad that America has taken this step in reuniting its great nation, we have made contact with another safe zone on Prince Edward Island, and will be continuing there to re-establish the Canadian Nation. We wish the United States the best of luck in re-uniting its nation, and will maintain contact with it via long range radio. I am sending the mayor of Halifax back in a Frigate, which is not to be commandeered by the US, and he will act as Ambassador to the United States of America. The Frigate, the RCNS Halifax, will leave the United States EEZ immediately after."

[Laurvier]

USS Harry S. Truman

"My opinion on that is now irrelevant. Though I must say Captain, the fortitude of your men in this catastrophe is astounding." Keegan remarked while he flipped through the pages. He made a few comments on the tactics on their hunt for the Ascension. Advising that the incessant pinging with their active sonar and the blade count of their ships made it almost too easy for him to keep track of their positions. Plus any other submarines out there would have been able to have their own torpedos home in quite easily because of that.

"If I had 8 torpedo tubes like a Seawolf class, I would have fired and let them home in on your signatures. But with only four, we wouldn't have had time to reload before being destroyed and you'd still have ships floating." He mentioned casually.

"An interesting log you have here Captain. I knew I made a wise choice recommending that you remain in command." He set it down and passed it back. "Now, if you please...let us return to the CIC where I'll be a fly on the wall. I'd like to see you in action."

[Wallenburg]

Captain Ryan Scholl || USS Harry S. Truman || Day 31

Scholl nodded and led Keegan back up the superstructure. The commander went straight for the bridge. He was told of the frigate entering their waters and radioed to the destroyers to go to yellow alert while the rest of the fleet remained on standby.

"Keegan is probably anxious about this ship. Let's try to satisfy him. Open a channel with the mayor."

"Aye, sir."

Speaking to the frigate, he said, "This is the USS Harry S. Truman of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. We order you to come to a full stop and wait for a rib boat to come out and receive your mayor. You shall then leave immediately for your own safe zone. Any funny business and I'm afraid I'll have to regard your vessel as a hostile."

He licked his lips, hoping to add some friendliness to the message. "I wish your people prosperity in wherever they find their home. Captain Scholl, United States Navy, out."

A rib boat scooted away from the missile cruiser and snatched up the Canadian ambassador, taking him directly into the city. He would be escorted to the state house where he could meet the President.

[The Union of Courland]

Captain Ryan Scholl || USS Harry S. Truman || Day 31

Scholl nodded and led Keegan back up the superstructure. The commander went straight for the bridge. He was told of the frigate entering their waters and radioed to the destroyers to go to yellow alert while the rest of the fleet remained on standby.

"Keegan is probably anxious about this ship. Let's try to satisfy him. Open a channel with the mayor."

"Aye, sir."

Speaking to the frigate, he said, "This is the USS Harry S. Truman of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. We order you to come to a full stop and wait for a rib boat to come out and receive your mayor. You shall then leave immediately for your own safe zone. Any funny business and I'm afraid I'll have to regard your vessel as a hostile."

He licked his lips, hoping to add some friendliness to the message. "I wish your people prosperity in wherever they find their home. Captain Scholl, United States Navy, out."

A rib boat scooted away from the missile cruiser and snatched up the Canadian ambassador, taking him directly into the city. He would be escorted to the state house where he could meet the President.

RCNS Halifax, off the coast of Boston, Mass:
The Frigate waited until the Ambassador was safely in the city, then sent a message to Captain Scholl.

"We will exit the United States EEZ as soon as possible. And for the future, don't get your panties in a knot. We aren't going to attack. Please treat the ambassador with kindness, if you will."

Boston, Massachusetts:
The Ambassodor, a bit upset over the treatment, walked into the state house, bristling. "Mr. President, would you kindly tell your boys to treat me with some respect! Right now, I feel like a prisoner of war, for heavens sake!".

[Dubrovka]

Captain Ryan Scholl || USS Harry S. Truman || Day 31

"Since your fiasco yesterday, Alpha has ordered an hourly patrol with two aircraft. Otherwise, we keep most of our birds grounded."

Hearing the other question, he responded, "I am neither at liberty nor desire to share any information about our ground forces. Alpha's orders."

He watched as Keegan examined the room. The staff looked up occasionally, shooting dirty looks at the commander but keeping largely to their jobs.

"If you want to talk ground forces you'll need to speak with Lieutenant Otis Reach. He commands our city guard."

Sergeant Major Emilia Iago || Ohio FOB = Alpha Hotel || Day 31

Smiling, she asked Desmond, "Just three questions: what is Chicago's status, what is the Evanston settlement like, and do you want to stay here with me and my boys or do you want to follow the navy back to Boston?"

Desmond Wolf // FOB Alpha // Day 31
Desmond still stood at attention just like he had been taught in boot camp. He sounded off to answer the questions "Chicago's status in the down town portion is totally flattened ma'am, the USAF carpet bombed that awhile back! The New Evanston settlement is a small, but well protected place with sufficent weapons and ammunition. The leader, Vincent, is somewhat bat shit crazy, he lead a coup and threw out some members a day or two back! Respectively ma'am, I'd like to go wherever the Marines go! I don't want to be stuck behind some bullshit desk in the Navy!

[Tayner]

// Luke LaForge // The Trek to Richmond // 18:28

Luke had been walking down the dirt road for some time, until he came upon a paved road. He found a working car, and drove. He thought about where he could go. Home he thought. He didn't have a home. He had never stayed in one place before the end, and the only true home he could have was in New Orleans. It's probably been firebombed. He eventually got on highway 90. He found a sign. Chicago 5 Miles.

He thought about the Berets. I doubt they'll throw up any roadblocks for little ol' me. He drove as far as he could. He worked his way around the blazing ruins that used to be Chicago. The fumes finally ran out, and Luke worked his way on foot. He left his smokes in the dorms, and his lighter in his truck. He just worked his way east when he walked to 80.

He avoided zombies, but eventually he would have to kill one. None managed to eat him today. He soon settled in a gas station. It had a little food, and the only zombie in it was locked in the back room. Luke ate most of the food in there. A bag of stale potato chips, some SPAM, and some good ol' H2O. He sat down in a chair behind the counter, and ate.

Luke LaForge // Chicago // Day 3, 11:09

Luke and his brother were in a bank, running from those things. Them and a few other survivors made it to the elevator. James was bleeding.

"Is he bit?" One woman asked.

"I don't know, why?" Luke asked.

"Because that's how you turn!" A man said.

"No, no he's fine. You weren't bit, were you James?" Luke asked. The doors opened to level 18, and more survivors greeted them. One man, clean shaven and in business attire greeted them.

"It's safe up her- is that man bitten?" He asked, and pointed a pistol at James. "Get the fuc-" The man didn't get to finish his sentence before Luke punched him in the face, giving the man a bloody nose, and knocking him down.

"Don't you point a fucking gun at my brother!" Luke yelled. Another survivor armed with a baseball bat ran at them. This guy was wearing a mail room uniform, with a small stubble.

"You two leave now, or I'm going to kill you both."

James looked at Luke. "It's alright, fuck these guys. Let's get out of here little brother." He said, as he placed his hand in the elevator, preventing from closing. Luke picked up the pistol.

"You can't ta-" Luke fired a round into the man's knee, and went into the elevator. "Fuck you you prick!" The man yelled as the doors closed.

"What the fuck was that?" James asked.

"It was survival. I'm done dealing with other survivors." Luke said, looking at the floor number on that was descending. He clicked the second story button.

[Wallenburg]

President Ed Markey || Boston, Massachusetts: State House || Day 31

The Canadian mayor--now ambassador--was clearly upset about his treatment. The President wore genuine chagrin on his face.

"I do apologize, sir. We are under surveillance by a particularly aggressive submarine commander, and it seemed best to act aggressively to avoid letting him take the reins. Trust me, if we had let you just come in, he would be shooting missiles into your frigate."

He continued in a more cheerful tone, "But now that you are on land, I'm sure things will work more smoothly. I am President Ed Markey, and I'd like to do whatever I can to build an alliance with your northern colony."

Sgnt. Major Emilia Iago || Ohio FOB = Alpha Hotel || Day 31

Emilia was more than satisfied with Desmond's report. She gave him a friendly hug and said, "Welcome back, marine."

Breaking away, she finalized the transport to Boston. The Chinook was refueled and the navy men loaded in. Desmond, Emilia, and a couple other marines watched as the helicopter quickly disappeared into the golden morning sun.

"I'm sure I can find you something to do, Staff Sergeant. We'll probably go on a mission soon. But for now you can relax and familiarize yourself with the group."

Lauren Clark || Interstate 90, Massachusetts || Day 31

"Dammit. A herd up ahead."

Lauren brought the car to a crawl and turned around, finding an exit ramp and trying to make her way around the sea of infected. She watched as one infected roared at another and tore its arm off, slobbering as it sunk its teeth into the infected flesh. They're starving. Soon it might just be us and the reavers.

She drove over a crawler and felt her stomach lurch. Sickened, she quickly found an onramp and got back onto the interstate. She looked around the car to see Lamar carefully examining the map while Rebecca and Hugh slept. Rebecca had taken the night shift, so her exhaustion was understandable. But Hugh had slept alongside her. Perhaps something was picking his mind...

[The Union of Courland]

President Ed Markey || Boston, Massachusetts: State House || Day 31

The Canadian mayor--now ambassador--was clearly upset about his treatment. The President wore genuine chagrin on his face.

"I do apologize, sir. We are under surveillance by a particularly aggressive submarine commander, and it seemed best to act aggressively to avoid letting him take the reins. Trust me, if we had let you just come in, he would be shooting missiles into your frigate."

He continued in a more cheerful tone, "But now that you are on land, I'm sure things will work more smoothly. I am President Ed Markey, and I'd like to do whatever I can to build an alliance with your northern colony."

Sgnt. Major Emilia Iago || Ohio FOB = Alpha Hotel || Day 31

Emilia was more than satisfied with Desmond's report. She gave him a friendly hug and said, "Welcome back, marine."

Breaking away, she finalized the transport to Boston. The Chinook was refueled and the navy men loaded in. Desmond, Emilia, and a couple other marines watched as the helicopter quickly disappeared into the golden morning sun.

"I'm sure I can find you something to do, Staff Sergeant. We'll probably go on a mission soon. But for now you can relax and familiarize yourself with the group."

Lauren Clark || Interstate 90, Massachusetts || Day 31

"Dammit. A herd up ahead."

Lauren brought the car to a crawl and turned around, finding an exit ramp and trying to make her way around the sea of infected. She watched as one infected roared at another and tore its arm off, slobbering as it sunk its teeth into the infected flesh. They're starving. Soon it might just be us and the reavers.

She drove over a crawler and felt her stomach lurch. Sickened, she quickly found an onramp and got back onto the interstate. She looked around the car to see Lamar carefully examining the map while Rebecca and Hugh slept. Rebecca had taken the night shift, so her exhaustion was understandable. But Hugh had slept alongside her. Perhaps something was picking his mind...

Boston, Massachusetts:
The Ambassador relaxed a bit. "Well, I'm sure you had your reasons. Now, if it's not to much of a bother, I'd say setting up diplomatic relations is a top priority, considering how close America and Canada were before the infection. But honestly, i think your new friends might have ruined that close relationship. Downgraded it to basically neutral relations".

Prince Edward Island, Canada, 12 hours later:
"Roger that, Atlantic Fleet. You have been granted permission to anchor off Charlottetown."
With the confirmation from the New Canadian Republic, the Atlantic Fleet anchored off the coast of Charlottetown, and the 7,000 refugees from Nova Scotia began to unload into Charlottetown. Admiral Felson traveled to Charlottetown to begin negotiations with the New Canadian Republic to possibly form a Second Canadian Union.

[Wallenburg]

President Ed Markey || Boston, Massachusetts: State House || Day 31

The Canadian mayor--now ambassador--was clearly upset about his treatment. The President wore genuine chagrin on his face.

"I do apologize, sir. We are under surveillance by a particularly aggressive submarine commander, and it seemed best to act aggressively to avoid letting him take the reins. Trust me, if we had let you just come in, he would be shooting missiles into your frigate."

He continued in a more cheerful tone, "But now that you are on land, I'm sure things will work more smoothly. I am President Ed Markey, and I'd like to do whatever I can to build an alliance with your northern colony."

Boston, Massachusetts:
The Ambassador relaxed a bit. "Well, I'm sure you had your reasons. Now, if it's not to much of a bother, I'd say setting up diplomatic relations is a top priority, considering how close America and Canada were before the infection. But honestly, i think your new friends might have ruined that close relationship. Downgraded it to basically neutral relations".

Prince Edward Island, Canada, 12 hours later:
"Roger that, Atlantic Fleet. You have been granted permission to anchor off Charlottetown."
With the confirmation from the New Canadian Republic, the Atlantic Fleet anchored off the coast of Charlottetown, and the 7,000 refugees from Nova Scotia began to unload into Charlottetown. Admiral Felson traveled to Charlottetown to begin negotiations with the New Canadian Republic to possibly form a Second Canadian Union.

President Ed Markey || Boston, Massachusetts: State House || Day 31

"Again, I apologize for your treatment. The United States wishes to remain close allies. I cannot speak for the Remnants who we have surrendered to, but I hope that the Boston government and the Canadian government can rebuild ties. After all, we have a common enemy that doesn't negotiate."

Secretary Hamilton walked in, carrying his typewriter. "You wanted me to bring this, Mr. President?"

"Yes, Atticus. Please sit with us."

Hamilton pulled a chair from across the room and sat at the left side of the desk, between the Canadian ambassador and Alpha. He set down his typewriter and loaded a fresh roll of paper.

"So, Mr. Ambassador, how would you like to refresh our relationship in this brave new world of so few people?"

[Laurvier]

USS Harry S. Truman

Scholl's ability to properly react the presentation of a new threat pleased Keegan. Cleareing his throat to get the Captain's attention, he explained "I hope Governor Markey is aware that any agreement he makes with the Canadian ambassador is null and void. The sovereignty of Boston has been reduced to the powers of a state in the United States. Under Article 10 of the Constitution, no state has the power to enter into a treaty with a foreign nation."

"Not to worry. I'll contact the federal government and have them send a diplomat?"

[Nilla Wayfarers]

Day 9, 1 mile outside Wheaton, IL, on Highway 38:
Ryan Kim
Mary ripped the filthy shirt and cummerbund off her thigh as our car crawled through the fleeing traffic, revealing her deep wound, which had grown steadily worse. "Well, it was good while it lasted," she sighed as she poured more alcohol over the wound and discarded the ruined bandage. Turning to Bill, she raised an eyebrow, and said, "I thought you said that junction was walled off."
"I was, I swear," Bill insisted. "There must have been a breach I missed somewhere."
"Yeah, no shit," Mark growled. "Damn things almost got me. So did you," he added, looking at me. "You see this?" he asked as he pointed to a hole running through both sides of his hat. "Your shooting's almost worse than your driving."
"Hey, that's enough," Mary ordered. "Quit it with the jokes, he has to concentrate on the road. Besides, you wouldn't have done much better."
"Yeah, well, at least it would be him getting shot, and not me," he scoffed as he turned to look out the window.
"Mark, could you roll that down for a second?" Mary requested.
"Sure, why?" Mark asked as he pressed a button and the glass slid down.
"I don't want to break the glass," Mary replied as she pulled out her pistol and aimed it at Mark. Before he could react, she shot a bullet that barely grazed his ear, but soon blood was running through his fingers as he clutched his wound.
As nearby drivers ducked, and looked around to see what happened, Mark cried, "God damn it! That bitch is crazy! We have to get rid of her."
Jane unbuckled herself from the shotgun seat so she could turn to face him. She pulled out a switchblade and held it near his throat, saying, "Yeah? How about we get rid of you? What have you done to help us? Mary's bringing us to the camp, Bill saved our asses in that boxcar the other night, and Ryan and I kept those things from eating you alive." She pressed the blade against his pockmarked skin, drawing a single bead of blood that ran down the length of the knife. "So what have you done?"
Mark was shaking as he attempted to shrink back into his seat. "Look, honey, I didn't mean nothin' by it, I just don't appreciate gettin' shot."
"Oh, really? Seems to me that you don't appreciate much of anything," Jane observed. She slapped him hard before turning back around. "And don't call me honey."
"Look, we all messed up, it's not his fault," I said, trying to avoid more shot ears and cut throats. "We shouldn't have stayed at the junction another day. We should have kept moving, like we planned. We got lucky, and Bill managed to get us into that boxcar before that horde caught up with us. And we should have been smarter this morning. Those things can think. They knew we'd come out, and we should have known they were waiting. At least we managed to hold them off until we reached the highway."
"Exactly," Bill agreed. "The military was able to take care of it by then. And that's all in the past, so let's just head on over to that camp, and everything should be fine. That was some smart thinking on your part too, Mary," he added, looking at her. "If you hadn't changed out of your uniform, those soldiers would have taken you back for sure."
Mary smiled weakly. "Yeah, I just hope there's enough meds at the camp for this." She took a gulp from the bottle and handed it back to Bill. "Almost empty," she noted.
"Just like our tank here," I said, looking at the dangerously low fuel gauge. "How far from here?"
"Umm," Mary pondered as she leaned out the window. "We can take this exit, then leave the car and go on foot."
"Okay," I said, turning onto the empty dirt road, now free from the congested highway. After another minute, I stopped the car, and we all got out.
A couple hours later, Jane and I were holding the guns again, inching our way into the camp. It looked to be completely abandoned. As we made our way to the middle of the camp, we lowered them, overwhelmed by our luck. The walls of the camp were lined with food, jugs of water, and medical supplies, enough for us to last months. I took a hesitant step toward a jug of water, my dry mouth now unbearable so close to relief. However, as my foot touched the ground, a line of bullets perforated the dirt in front of me, and I leapt back, bringing my rifle back to my shoulder.
"Leave now, and no harm shall come to you. This is our property. Find your own supplies and test your luck on the highways. You won't be getting anything from us."
Mary, who had been carried by Bill to the camp, looked around, announcing, "This is not your property. This is the property of the United States military. I am Private Mary Barnes, and I order you to stand down or face detainment."
We waited for a few minutes in silence, expecting a response. Eventually, Mary turned to us, smiled, and said, "I think we got 'em."
A second later, a shot rang out, and Mary fell to the ground. Mark, terrified, broke into a sprint toward the exit. He was shot down, too.
Bill ran over to Mary while Jane and I scanned the camp for our hidden attacker.
"We told you to leave. You did not. Now we cannot guarantee your safety. This is your last chance. Hand over your weapons or you will die."
"Do it!" Bill hissed. "Mary could be dying already."
Jane threw her pistol in front of her, but I clutched the rifle and continued searching.
"Ryan, don't be stupid!" she begged. "They'll shoot you too."
As she said this, however, I noticed a pile of crates in the corner of the camp marked "EXPLOSIVES" in red. "Wait," I told them as I aimed my rifle. "I have an idea." I closed one eye, looked down the barrel, and fired a single shot at the pile.
The camp erupted in a shock wave carrying fire and shrapnel, sending me, Jane, and Bill to the ground. Mary, already lying there, shielded her face as the splinters rained down. As my ears rang, I stumbled around a bit, grabbing bits of food, water, and supplies before I heard the patter of gunfire.
"Guys, come on!" I shouted, and together we ran toward the exit.
Mark was still there, screaming from the pain from a bullet that hit his calf. He looked up at me, helpless. "Come on, man, please," he implored. "They'll kill me."
I sighed, picked him up, and let him use me as a crutch as we continued to flee. Our attackers, still in disarray, failed to hit any of us as we made our way back to our vehicle and back onto the road. Mark and Mary were in the backseat with Bill, who applied medicine to their wounds, while Jane and I stayed up front.
"We can't go back on the highway," she told me. "They probably saw that, and if we came back alone, they'd be suspicious. We'll have to keep going on whatever this is until we're further away."
I nodded silently, turned the car away from the highway, and continued along the dirt road toward the horizon, the sun bearing down on us from directly overhead. Eventually, we made our way to Interstate 88, and continued southwest as the sun set.

[Tayner]

// Luke LaForge // The Trek to Richmond // Day 31, 19:12

By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea we wept when we remembered Zion.

Remember, O lord, the children of Edom in the day of Jerusalem who said, "Raze it, raze it, even to the foundation."

O daughter of Babylon, who art to be destroyed. Happy shall he be, that rewardeth thee as thou hast served us.

Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones.


This was the only thing Luke could think of when he thought of New Eviston. He remembered seeing another pilliar of smoke in the sky when he drove away. He sat in the gas station. Thinking. I think I heard Ft. Fredrick. Was that what Jean said? Everything went to hell so fast. Maybe I should try Richmond. Maybe uncle Jefferson still lives there. Luke dismissed the thoughts. He would try heading east to Ft. Fredrick, where he thought Jean said he would take the group.

Luke went outside, and looked at the vehicles. Most were smashed up, missing tires, burnt out, or just sitting in pices. He siphoned what little gas he could get out of the vehicles, and found a Dodge Ram that was intact. He opened the door, which was thankfully unlocked, and looked around for a key. He wasn't lucky enough to find one, so he hot wired the truck, and set out east.

He swerved around the wrecks and pile ups of vehicles, eventually having to go off the road to get around the wreckage. He looked at the gauges on the dashboard and saw he was getting low on gas. He pulled over, put the gas he siphoned out earlier in the tank and continued east. He realized the truck had a CB early on, but he forgot that Jean's convoy probably had radios. Once he remembered, he picked up the mic.

"Jean, you out there? Kenny? This is LaForge. Where are you guys? I'm heading east on 80. Over." Luke said. He repeated the message a few times, realized he was probably on the wrong channel, and swapped and repeated his message again. The radio should have a rage of twenty miles, hopefully further. Wile waiting a reply, Luke looked in the glovebox, and found some cigarettes and a lighter. He light one up and took a drag, cracking the driver side window.

[Wallenburg]

USS Harry S. Truman

Scholl's ability to properly react the presentation of a new threat pleased Keegan. Cleareing his throat to get the Captain's attention, he explained "I hope Governor Markey is aware that any agreement he makes with the Canadian ambassador is null and void. The sovereignty of Boston has been reduced to the powers of a state in the United States. Under Article 10 of the Constitution, no state has the power to enter into a treaty with a foreign nation."

"Not to worry. I'll contact the federal government and have them send a diplomat?"

Captain Ryan Scholl || USS Harry S. Truman || Day 31

Scholl heard Keegan's voice rising from the CDC and left the bridge to the navigator. Climbing back down he replied to the commander, "He won't be making any agreements, I imagine. Simply welcoming the ambassador and offering him residence in the city. Either way, a federal diplomat will work as long as they can prove themselves capable of negotiation."

Markey had told the captain something before, but Scholl had been reluctant to speak about it. It isn't the right time. Maybe in a while, but things are still tense. He felt at his cap and stiffened his coat before returning to the bridge.

[The Union of Courland]

Boston, Massachusetts:
The Ambassador relaxed a bit. "Well, I'm sure you had your reasons. Now, if it's not to much of a bother, I'd say setting up diplomatic relations is a top priority, considering how close America and Canada were before the infection. But honestly, i think your new friends might have ruined that close relationship. Downgraded it to basically neutral relations".

Prince Edward Island, Canada, 12 hours later:
"Roger that, Atlantic Fleet. You have been granted permission to anchor off Charlottetown."
With the confirmation from the New Canadian Republic, the Atlantic Fleet anchored off the coast of Charlottetown, and the 7,000 refugees from Nova Scotia began to unload into Charlottetown. Admiral Felson traveled to Charlottetown to begin negotiations with the New Canadian Republic to possibly form a Second Canadian Union.

President Ed Markey || Boston, Massachusetts: State House || Day 31

"Again, I apologize for your treatment. The United States wishes to remain close allies. I cannot speak for the Remnants who we have surrendered to, but I hope that the Boston government and the Canadian government can rebuild ties. After all, we have a common enemy that doesn't negotiate."

Secretary Hamilton walked in, carrying his typewriter. "You wanted me to bring this, Mr. President?"

"Yes, Atticus. Please sit with us."

Hamilton pulled a chair from across the room and sat at the left side of the desk, between the Canadian ambassador and Alpha. He set down his typewriter and loaded a fresh roll of paper.

"So, Mr. Ambassador, how would you like to refresh our relationship in this brave new world of so few people?"

Boston, Massachusetts:
The Ambassador's voice lowered to a whisper as he talked to the President. "Canada will gather strength. Already, the Navy and Army have reconnected and will have begun a campaign to retake the Maritime Provinces. Once this is over, we will move into Maine and Newfoundland. We will declare war on the Remnants when the time is right, and we will free Boston first. We will hand over control of any US territory occupied by Canada to you, with the exception of North Maine, which is all we want in return. Is this acceptable?".

Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, Canada:
Today, in Charlottetown, the Atlantic Fleet and Canadian Army have made a treaty that has founded the Second Canadian Union, which has laid claim to all of former Canada as it's sovereign territory. Plans are being drafted for an invasion of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and Newfoundland. A radio broadcast has been transmitted over all frequencies:

"People of Canada and the United States. If you can hear this message, head towards New Brunswick and Maine. The Second Canadian Union will bring peace, order, and justice to the wasteland. Come to us, and you will finally find peace."

[Dubrovka]

Desmond Wolf // FOB Alpha // Day 31

Desmond watched the Chinook fly off into the sun rise, knowing he chose not to be on it. He was back in uniform and it felt amazing. He finally had structure and organization again in an unstructured, and unorganized world. He was thankful that the marines accepted him into their FOB and let him into their outfit. He walked back into the FOB when the Chinook faded off into the distance.He walked up the stairs and into the barracks. He found Marines milling around, eating MREs and drinking hot coffee. He loved that smell, he hadn't had a glass of Joe since the outbreak began.

He walked over to a Marine sitting on his cot and said "Hey Marine? I'm new here, and I haven't had a hot cup of Joe in 31 days, mind if I borrow a packet from your MRE?". The Marine smiled and digged into the MRE bag, and pulled out a Nescafe instant coffee and handed it to Desmond. Desmond smiled and thanked him, and proceed back to his cot. He sat down on his cot and pulled out his water and poured in the instant coffee. He then set up his portable stove and heated the water to a very hot temp and took it off. He unscrewed the top and took a sip, the flavor hitting him.

He almost cried it tasted so good. He loved coffee and this was heaven for him. He liked this so much, even though it was just crappy instant coffee. He layed back on his cot, and sipped his heavenly coffee.