I worked quickly, using five first-aid kits to help a badly hurt soldier with his wounds. His tag said eXleon, but he was in such bad shape I couldn’t get him to talk. I don’t believe I ever saw him again after that day.

As I circled the hospital to assess the situation, I saw one more zombie was trying to get through the fencing of the junkyard next to the police department. With a large horde to the south, I wonder if loners would be around more often. I decided it was safer inside the hospital.

Getting inside, I found the place to be surprisingly busy. Over 50 people, either tending to the wounded or conversing over any and all topics. It felt refreshingly normal.

I approached the secretary at the main desk to report what I saw outside. I mentioned the 13 zombies at St. Agatho’s Church as well. I didn’t know what else to do, so I searched for supplies to replace what I used outside. I found enough for two FAKs before exhaustion made me realize I needed to rest.

I woke up to the sound of someone cocking a pistol. “I’m gonna go zed huntin’! Wish me luck!” He was oddly dressed. He wore a nurse gown, with a strait jacket on top, but he also had an obscene amount of hardware. He had four shotguns strapped to his back, with six pistol holsters. One of them was empty, and he was holding its pistol out in front of him as he left the hospital. I later learned that he was known as Private Houston.

Someone was hurt, and as most of the people were busy, I was drafted to help. I had a mentor help me, and even though I felt like I had botched the entire process, I managed to cure my patient of infection and clean and bandage the wound. With the facilities of a powered hospital, I realized I could do a lot more good here, especially if a room was available.

Upon returning, Private Houston announced that there were 4 military survivors still out on the streets around the hospital.

“Are the zeds coming here?” asked a small girl. I was shocked to see her here, and I was glad someone else took the initiative to calm her down. “A kitty zed? I think we might have missed something here, Alvy,” said one woman to another. Alvy replied with, “I wonder what happened to the zed squirrel I let loose in the air vents awhile back.” It was a strange conversation to have, but what would you say in front of a child who had to grow up in Malton?

When I arrived, I was shocked to find that there were actually 11 zombies. A few survivors were doing their best to keep the ghouls at bay, but the situation looked grim. I was able to reach one of the people without attracting the attention of any zombies, applying first-aid to an open wound and injecting into my patient whatever fluid stops the possible infection. As I worked, I surveyed the area and determined that I wouldn’t be able to do anything on my own. Unless I wanted to take a huge risk, I needed to find reinforcements. The other survivors had seemed hopeful that I was to be followed by a squad of zombie hunters, but when no one else arrived, you could tell they felt the situation was hopeless.

I returned to St. Aloysius’ Church, a bit demoralized. I told Father Bell about the number of zombies I saw. “It’s not looking good.”

Some people were still on patrol. Others were setting out, Father Bell among them. I waited. The radio made a new announcement:

Admiral Zex has been GKing TRPs in Kempsterbank.

When Father Bell returned, he said, “13 of them, all inside. May the Lord protect us.”

The situation seemed more and more grim. After St. Agatho’s falls, where will the horde go next? I needed to get to Urban General Hospital and find a way to contribute in a greater capacity. For all I knew, the person I helped today was already dead. What could I have done if I wasn’t so terrified? Who could I have saved?

I decided that I was going to have to rush into Urban General Hospital and hurry back. I didn’t want to be outside, and I couldn’t depend on the hospital providing an empty bed for me, either. Still, I wanted to get there as soon as I could. I was too impatient to wait until morning.

The trip was uneventful. When I arrived at the hospital, I was surprised that most of the people were asleep. I saw a Twister mat out, but no one was playing. I didn’t want to disturb anyone, but I found the publicly accessible medical supplies. I managed to put together 5 first-aid kits before deciding that I needed to get back to the church. I waved goodbye to the desk attendant, who didn’t seem to pay me much attention.

When I got back, I announced the success of my trip. No one paid too much attention to me here either.

The next morning, I woke up to hear the radio static before the following news was announced in an excited voice:

9 Zeds in St.Agatho’s!

I said, “9 of them IN St. Agatho’s?! But that’s just a few blocks south!”

Since arriving, I’ve seen at most a couple of zombies in the same area. One is difficult enough to deal with, but nine of them attacking together is a small army. And if that army is only blocks away, we would have to be ready if they turn their attention on us.

StaceFace was new to the area and was asking for help as I got my equipment together. People were being mostly quiet otherwise, but I froze when I heard a loud groan. It was very close by. I wasn’t sure if anyone else had heard it, but I hurried outside to find a zombie attacking someone. With my knife in hand, I approached it and stabbed as hard and as fast as I could. Over and over, I attacked, hoping to buy the other person some time. I didn’t think I would bring it down, but at the very least I could distract it.

The survivor looked like he was part of the military, but he must be new. He seemed nervous, like he forgot his training. His tag said his name was Koret, but that was all I could see before the zombie decided I was its new target. I ducked back into the church, but not before checking to make sure that Koret was fine. He seemed capable of escaping to safety. I got behind the barricades to get to mine.

I let everyone know about the zombie outside and about Koret. The battle took a lot of energy, and with the zombie out there, my trip to the hospital will have to wait. Even though I felt impatient, it wouldn’t have been smart to try to make the trek with a zombie following me. For all I knew, the hospital would be too heavily barricaded and there wouldn’t be any buildings open to me nearby, leaving me a meal for the dead. I might not have to wait until tomorrow, though. The zombie might leave or get killed soon. Then I can go to Urban General.

That was all the radio announcer said. No other details are really necessary or wanted. Unfortunately, Psycho Killer will be back. Someone will revive him, either on purpose or with no knowledge of who he is. It’s depressing to think that by destroying death, evil and hatred can live on indefinitely. I suppose the same could be said about good people, but doesn’t immortality prevent you from getting a well-deserved rest?

It was hours later when I jumped at the sound of a crash and then static over the radio. A moment later, it was silent again. With no real structure in the radio network, it is impossible to say what happened and where. It could be something as innocent as a station’s generator running out of fuel, but it could also mean that a building has been overrun with zombies before anyone could send out a notice. Hopefully, it isn’t the latter.

I studied the flares, which were quite a few blocks southeast of the church. It’s odd to see them during the day, but they are hard to miss. I tried to think about how my life could fit into the new realities of Malton, but I couldn’t focus. Maybe I was too tired. Maybe it was still too horrific to think about.

Dannyboy824 showed up, and to no one in particular said, “Hey.” I don’t know if I was annoyed or frustrated, but I didn’t like the idea of chitchat. I decided I had to get out for a bit to try and clear my head.

As soon as I got outside, I saw someone stumbling towards me. At first I thought it was a zombie, but I realized it was a drunk. I was going to steer clear of him, but I realized he was hurt. It wasn’t an obvious wound, nor was it serious, but I guess after getting so much practice, I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting someone who needs help, no matter how little.

His gas mask had spots of blood on it. When the outbreak started, gas masks were in high demand because people thought that zombification was spread by breathing the same air as someone who was infected. We know better these days, but some people still insist on wearing those masks.

He yelled at me when I tried to help him, but I held up my first-aid kit, pointed at the wound on is arm, and he seemed to understand what I was trying to do. Mister Rogers wasn’t any more calm, but he at least let me get to work. I said, “Mister Rogers, you should get inside. It’s pretty safe in Kinch Heights, but it’s still dangerous to be out alone.” I noticed he was wearing a crucifix. It was similar to mine, but his was spotted in red. I wondered if he had ever spent time in St. Aloysius’s Church or a different one.

I went back inside, feeling oddly pleased with myself. It wasn’t long ago when I was having a hard time telling if someone was decapitated, even if I was holding the head in my own hands. Now I was able to spot a minor wound 10 feet away. Initially, I thought applying first-aid was the least I could do to help as I tried to figure out what to do with my life, but maybe assisting the injured and sick was my life’s purpose.

I found another FAK before I turned in for the night. I had a hard time getting to sleep, but this time it was due to excitement and my anticipation of the future. It felt good to be alive.

In the morning, after stretching to relieve the stiffness that comes from sleeping on a church pew, I noticed a few people limping near the Eden Museum. At first I thought that I was seeing zombies, but they seemed to move too quickly and were helping each other. I still had two first-aid kits, so I went out.

I waved to them, holding up my FAKs to let them know I was coming to help. They seemed grateful. It turned out that they had bite marks on their legs. jackt099 had one near his ankle, while Vicktor26 had his injury above his knee. I haven’t seen it, but I’ve heard that zombies could still be just as dangerous even when they lose the bottom-half of their bodies. If anything, they’re more dangerous because they can crawl in tall grass or under cars without you aware of them until they grab you.

It’s is why you always have to be aware of your surroundings, something I forgot as I was applying first-aid to Vicktor and jack. I didn’t hear the zombie approach, and neither did the others. Suddenly I felt a hard blow and a shooting pain in my left arm, and when I turned, I was shocked that it was almost on top of me. It was wearing a scratched monocle, a blood-flecked grey top hat, a tie, a NecroTech jacket, and a fur coat. For something that looked so absurd, I was surprised no one else saw or heard it approaching.

I pushed it away with my good arm, as I didn’t want it to claw at me again. I quickly looked around to try to get an idea of how much danger I was in and saw another zombie approaching from a block away. I pulled out my knife, plunging it into this gentleman-zombie’s shoulder. Even as I did, I didn’t think it would be effective, so I ran back to St. Aloysius’ Church.

“There’s a zombie outside the Eden Museum, and another about a block away, on Newbury St. I used my FAKs on the survivors there, but they still need help!” Everyone either went outside or went to their observation posts, leaving me to walk to my pew.

All my life, I never had a broken bone or suffered any major physical injuries. I know I wasn’t bit, but I wasn’t used to the pain in my arm. It wasn’t excruciating, but it was distracting. There was always the risk of a normal bacterial infection, too. I was glad that Doctor R S was around even if I’ve never felt completely comfortable around him. He tended to my wounds as best he could, telling me they were minor and I had nothing to worry about. The aspirin did help with the pain.

It was hours later when the radio warned that a large group of zombies was nearby:

10 Zeds five blocks south of Nevill

Flinn G came back from a scouting run to inform us that he had spotted some zombies at St. Agatho’s Church. “I don’t know what they’re gonna do, or if there are more coming.” No one had any idea, but it sounded like there were going to be a lot of zombies in the area soon.

I was lucky to survive today. I was so focused on trying to make a difference, on helping, that I didn’t notice death was approaching. I can’t make those kinds of mistakes and expect to be helpful. You can never be too careful, and it frustrated me to know better. I was glad that the gentleman zombie didn’t bring a lot of friends with him, or I would have been torn apart. I’m not sure what happened to Viktor or jack. They hopefully found shelter elsewhere.

I searched for materials to put together some FAKs until I was exhausted. I couldn’t find anything, but I needed rest.

Evil zed south of Nevill. K.O.S.

I wondered aloud what K.O.S. could mean. Flinn G informed me it stood for “Kill On Sight”.

The Nevill Building, being so close, meant that zombies weren’t very far from here. I hoped the call to arms would be answered by people more capable than I was. I found enough materials for another FAK, and while I prepared to put together another one, I heard Flinn G yell out, “Zombies mauling a survivor 4 blocks south! I blasted one of them, but there’s still one ambling about, and another is in a neighboring area.” A few people went out to investigate. I stayed behind.

Jim Cralter came back later that evening with a painting in his arms. It was torn, but you could still make out the scene. I didn’t care much for it, but he installed it on a blank section of the wall of the church. “And, I’m back!” Everyone welcomed him, asking him for news, although there wasn’t much to tell.

Sherlock came up to a few of us and joked, “Thanks for the heal! When I become one, I’ll try not to eat you!” I’ll admit that it made me chuckle, as morbid as it was.

Everyone was biding their time. No one really knew what else to do. edwardgattis was still confused about the purpose of a crucifix. “Crucifixes do nothing but dangle pleasantly around your neck,” said Ignasio Pablo Freely. We called him I.P. for short. He was pleasant enough.

“He means they do nothing but weigh you down. You’d be better off putting it down and picking up a knife or first aid kit.” Flinn G wasn’t much for adornment, and he seem to have no patience for ritual. He was a very practical person, although I wonder if you can be so practical for long in Malton. Without thinking, I reached up to touch my own crucifix. It was oddly reassuring, and I wondered what helped Flinn G keep his sanity.

The radio transmission was creepy, especially since it had been so quiet for hours. It could have been a crazy zombie hunter, or it could have been a crazy murderer. Either way, I hoped the source of the transmission was far away from St. Aloysius’ Church.

Light shone through the windows of the Eden Museum, illuminating the street between it and the church. It was almost midnight. I couldn’t sleep, again, so I spent some time rummaging through old cabinets. I found a few supplies for a first-aid kit, so at least it was a productive use of my time, although I would rather be sleeping. Even though I woke up a few times in the night, I somehow managed to get some rest.

“Does anyone know any local groups that could use another soldier?” asked Flinn G the next morning. “I remain loyal to this place and its people, but I feel I could be doing more to help.” No one offered any suggestions. Maybe they also worried that an intimidating protector would leave us here on our own.

One of the newest people to arrive at the church was edwardgattis. He was a fireman before the outbreak. Now he’s trying to figure out how to be useful. While he was stronger and more capable than I am, I felt like we had something in common. We both wanted to make a difference and didn’t like feeling helpless.

That afternoon, he called out to no one in particular, “Does anyone have any advice for the new guy? Anything I can do?” He was impatient. Father Bell kindly said, “Free running is a nice skill to have.”

I’ve seen people jumping between buildings, from rooftop to rooftop, or window to window. It wouldn’t be so necessary if you could walk up to any store or hospital, open the door, and stroll inside. With barricades and zombies in the streets, sometimes the safest thing to do is take a big leap out a window and hope you land on the other side. As I understand it, there is an intricate system of heavily barricaded buildings which can only be entered by free running from another building. When I made my way to Pole Mall, being able to jump onto the roof of one of the parking garages would have been my ticket inside the mall.

Unfortunately for me, I’m afraid of heights.

We heard a commotion by the barricades. A bloodied man was being helped inside. He coughed out, “Someone please FAK me! I’m really hurt, and I think I’m infected!”

I grabbed the recently found FAK from my bed and rushed over to where the guards laid him down. I was able to stop the bleeding and provided the antidote to the infection, although he was going to need more help. While I worked on him, I learned his name was Sherlock 85. I said, “That’s all I have, Sherlock. You’re still hurt, but the infection’s gone. You’ll live. For now.”

I searched for more FAKs, but my lack of sleep was getting to me. Sherlock seemed stable, and other people were looking after him, so I took a much needed nap.

When I woke up, I overheard edwardgattis and Sherlock. “That’s because you have the same name as my dog, Sherlock. Bonus points!” I had no idea what they were talking about.

edwardgattis had found a crucifix under Sherlock’s pew and was looking at it like it was the strangest thing he had ever seen in his life. “What’s this do?” A few people laughed, but I think he was serious.

SuzyQ…where are you, honey? The radio’s creepy broadcaster was still out there. I shuddered.

A few moments later, a different voice said:
Why on earth would anyone heal a junkyard?”

At first I thought about how cultures can form in strange ways, that in a world like this, people can still discriminate against those who have less, but then I realized it was a joke at the expense of the person who made the alert.

An hour later, Flinn G said said “There’s a zombie outside on its last legs. Also, there are a couple of survivors out there.”

I know that even a hurt zombie is still a dangerous zombie, so I allowed someone else to deal with it. It was hours later and still early morning when I decided to go outside. I saw a flare in the distance, southwest of the church, but I didn’t have to go anywhere. I was needed here.

I found someone leaning against the wall. He had a lot of blood on him, and as I got closer I saw he had quite a few really bad slashes and bites. It looked like a bear got to him. I only had two first-aid kits, and it took all of the bandages and antiseptic I had to get Roe Bailey to stop bleeding. In the end, it turned out that the injuries were minor, but there was a risk of infection.

Roe refused to come with me into the church, so when I returned, I let everyone know he was there so they could keep an eye on him. I checked the back of the church, and after a few hours I had found two FAKs. It was then that I heard a low groaning from close by. I went back outside to check on Roe, only to be surprised by the presence of a ghoul. I saw another one outside The Grimley Hotel in the distance, but this one was too close for comfort. Roe was nowhere to be found. I ran back inside and informed everyone about the new visitors.

I asked, “Has St. Aloysius been attacked often in the last couple of weeks? I know about the attack two weeks ago, but it seems worrisome that the ghouls seem to come here so often.”

Flinn said “We don’t get attacked too often, but every now and then a bunch o’ zeds walk on by. When they do break in, we usually have enough firepower to…discourage them.”

Father Bell nodded and said, “Amen.”

Flinn went outside to take care of the nearby zombies and scout the surrounding areas. The rest of us waited for him, watching for flares and listening carefully. He made it safely back, and informed us that there were a pair of zombies at The Henning Hotel. “If you’ve got time, go out, and have a bash at ‘em, but don’t waste ammo on zombies outside.”

I opted to stay.

From the bell tower, I watched the street for a time. It was starting to get dark, although occasionally a flare would light up the sky. One flare illuminated the parking lot near The Nevill Building, and I thought I saw some people. One was moving quite frantically, and I realized he was in trouble.

I had 2 FAKs, so I ran over as fast as I could. I saw that there was only one zombie, and its victim was currently hiding behind some overturned cars. If he wasn’t so badly hurt, I’m sure he could have ran to safety. He was bleeding profusely, and through his torn clothing I could see plenty of open wounds. He was lucky to have found a spot that the zombie couldn’t reach him, but it would only be a matter of time before others would come, and even if he could hold out, he would die from loss of blood.

I was able to reach him, but I didn’t dare try to move him. I’m not that strong, so I doubt I could have carried him very far before we were both attacked by the zombie. It was safer here. I pulled out my FAKs, flinching every time the zombie slammed its body against the car, and I went to work. I figured he was probably infected with whatever would turn him into a zombie, so I applied the cure. I wished the needle wasn’t so large. He was in so much pain as it was. He tried to speak, but I pleaded with him not to waste energy. He told me his name was josepepe.

I ran out of gauze, but I didn’t feel like my own clothes were clean enough to use as a substitute. I didn’t want to leave him here, but I couldn’t help him unless I found more FAKs. I told him that I would get him some help, and I ran. The Nevill Building was close by, but it was so heavily barricaded and no one was answering my calls for help.

I ran back to St. Aloysius’ Hospital, and I said, “Someone is hurt almost due east of here at a carpark. Very badly. I only had two FAKs and did what I could.”

I searched for extra FAKs for hours, but I couldn’t find any.

I never did find out what happened to josepepe. I hope someone was able to help him. Long after that night, the sounds and look of that zombie and the pain on josepepe’s face haunted me. I still hated how helpless I felt.

At that moment I heard some yelling to the east. It seemed more urgent, so I ran in that direction instead. Outside of the Cockayne Grove Police Department, I found one of those ghouls shuffling toward me. Knife in hand, I approached it slowly. As I got closer, I could see that there were pieces of flesh dangling off at the shoulder. I couldn’t tell if it was a fresh wound or not, but it wasn’t slowing this guy one bit.

I jabbed my knife into its back. I was trying to hit a vital organ or maybe even the spine, hoping to paralyze it. It groaned a bit, but it didn’t sound hurt or surprised. It just sounded like it realized that I was there and could be a next victim.

Once again, I found myself running from these things. I’ve seen them stopped during the evac. Not all of them, obviously, but some. Why are they so hard to kill? What would happen if I found myself surrounded by them? What could I do?

When I stopped running, I realized I was in front of St. Aloysius’ Church. I was helped inside by Flinn and Father Bell. I saw that there were quite a few new arrivals at the church. I didn’t know how many were passing through and how many were new residents. Father Bell welcomed me back, and I settled in. I nodded a greeting to the newer people as I passed them to get to my pew/bed, which was still unoccupied. I placed my stuff underneath it, and I caught up with everyone.

It was just after sundown when an alert was received through the radio.

“Dragonhead and all other Penny Heights survivors, we are trying to retake the suburb around Joachim Mall. We need as many survivors as we can to hold the buildings. I repeat, we need as many survivors as we can to hold the buildings.”

Penny Heights was almost due east of Kinch Heights, but it was also the farthest in Malton. I don’t think I could make the trek, and I doubt that I would have been of much help if I did. I watched the flares in the distance for a few hours, and I was slightly depressed when I finally went to sleep.