Has The Game Just Changed?... A Conclusion

After my last post I found that I couldn’t concentrate on anything and, as a result, I’ve done something I very rarely do... I left the safety of the village.

I’ve only been back a couple of hours but I feel I must share the conclusion I’ve come to with you all. For the most part its good news but it still means we have to be careful.

Before I begin I will clear up one point... Some of you guys were right about members of the living suffering delusions and acting like the undead (I’ll come to that later) but what I saw attack the deer wasn’t one of them... he was something (I believe) quite special and, thankfully, rare.

After talking with Jason Murphy, Vlad and a few others I decided to head back out and burn what was left of the corpse and the dead deer. I set out with the rifle, a gallon drum of petrol (this I can’t afford to waste) and a shovel.

Upon my arrival I discovered that the deer had gone. I’m hoping dragged away and eaten by foxes, as the option of an undead deer roaming about makes me feel sick.

The corpse was where I’d left it, a black hole in its forehead. I started undoing the lid of the gallon drum and then decided against it. I wanted to take a closer look... maybe check the corpse, try and prove I was wrong about it being one of the undead.

My original fear was correct... it had been as undead as undead can be. I did, however, find something of interest. Hanging from his left arm was a rubber tube. The tube went to a needle that was pushed into a withered vein on the inside of the elbow. Surgical tape hung like a flap of skin.
This got me thinking even more... I don’t like being freaked and I wanted to know more about this guy. I had only one choice. I had to go and see for myself.

Before leaving I dug a hole in the field and then dragged the corpse into it. I then doused the corpse, using half the gallon drum to do so. Then I stood back, lit and match and tossed it onto the corpse.
I didn’t hang around to watch, evening was drawing in and it is at least a three hour walk to where I was going.

Usually I only head out when the need is important... mainly to strip shops and salvage petrol and parts. The nearest town I had already bled dry of things I needed and I hadn’t been there in over a year. Now I returned as it held the one thing that might bring me closure... a hospital.

From the needle in his arm I could only think he had been a patient and I wanted to know more about him. Call me mad, but my writers mind needed answers... I never could let anything go.

It was dark when I reached the town, Selby, and it was deadly quite. It’s always had its fair share of undead but I’ve learned how to keep out of their way and the Hospital is on the outskirts.

I have been to the hospital before... one of my first visits. I stocked up on everything and anything... even stuff I had no idea what it was for. Since then the place had fared badly. Obviously others had been scavenging too and they had shown far less respect for the property than I had.

Lucky what I was looking for was still there. No one will have thought of taking hard drives in the early days. Material objects, at that point, meant nothing. People had only been looking for items of importance... things they could use and, more importantly, things they could trade.

In all I removed three hard drives and loaded them into my backpack. I suppose I could have hung around for a while and checked the place out but I didn’t see the point. What use have any of us for memories of times long gone?

I am a creature of habit so I returned home the same way I had headed out – no deviations. I wish now that I had been more adventurous.

The majority of the journey was uneventful but what I saw at around the halfway mark has scared me more than anything I have witnessed in the last two years.

It used to be an effluent plant, handling all the shit from the surrounding towns and villages. Now I don’t know what it is... I guess you’d call it a temple.

On the way out it had been deserted and I hadn’t looked twice. On the way back it was lit up with torches and a fire burned brightly in the centre.

I moved in carefully, wanting to see more, yet not wanting to be seen. What I saw may have cured me of that curious streak I said I suffered from.

The area was filled with people and I am telling you now, that if you didn’t know otherwise you’d swear they were dead. They moved in a similar manner to the undead and the moaning was also much the same yet had a sing-song like lilt to it.

They stumbled around the fire in an awkward dance of the dead that made me shiver deep inside.
But the worse was still to come.

The moaning suddenly stopped and they brought out a young woman. She looked much the same to them, moved in the same way and had an almost vacant look in her eyes. She didn’t struggle as they led her to the fire.

She was clothed in rags and stood absolutely still as they were removed with rough hands by the nearest members of the crowd. She didn’t even blink when the first of them sank their teeth into her dirty flesh... she just stood there and let them feed on her.

She was still standing when they tore open her stomach and began passing her intestines out to the children... At this point I turned and ran. I had no wish to see them move onto dessert.

I think I stopped to vomit at least three times during the latter half of the journey.

Just so you know my PC isn’t set up in the place I live. The sound of the generator – when in use – is something I don’t want where I’m living. This set up is running at a water pumping station on the far edge of town. It took some time to get the old control room up and running, but its served me well since... shit, it allowed me to find you guys.

Anyway, I’ve been here for two hours now and I’ve searched through the hard drives and I think I have an answer.

The hard drives held everything I needed, files, patient contact details and recordings of all communication between the hospital and the paramedics.

It seems I shot a guy once known as George Farrell. He was the victim of a hit and run the day before the outbreak. Upon arrival he was already in a coma and they had him on life support whilst they chased up a next of kin.

I pieced this together from reading the files and listening to over an hour of voice recordings. It had to be him and his situation rang a bell. I was sure I’d read about a similar case once before.
I checked through journals and then re-read the entire LZ timeline and came up with nothing.
Then it hit me... Fiction.

Just like Max Brooks being on the mark with migration patterns I had found something else that had been touched upon that could be real. Had David Wellington known more than we thought when he created Monster Island?

What if George Farrell had been on life support when his heart finally failed... what if oxygen had been artificially pumped into his lungs past the point of death? Would the brain react differently if it hadn’t been starved of air? Would that allow the rotting corpse to have quicker thought processes and seem more human?

If this is the case then there could be more... not many... but they may be out there.

To be honest though... after what I’ve seen I think I just started fearing the living more than the undead.