We started to mark the calendar.  For the first time in two weeks, since most of our unit was destroyed by the Gs, we've had survivors come to the camp.  They're a welcome sight and bring news from the outside.

Unfortunately...there doesn't seem to be much news at all.

We still can't raise anyone on the radio.  Where's the rest of our men?  I can't ( Read more... )

We had a breech last night.  It shouldn't happen, everything was secure, but the word is that the lookouts on the tower were playing cards.  There was a bit of commotion, some people insisting that we kill the guys that were bitten to keep from passing on the infection, but no one's getting sick.  Guess I can tell Anders that we can rule out ( Read more... )

They come in pairs or triplets, wandering around stiffly.  I was on guard duty last night, up in the 'tower' on the east side of camp, and per orders, picked off the shamblings as they came.  Rudy's callin em Gs.  I guess that's suppose to be clever, a throw back to an earlier war.  It stands for Ghouls.

I guess this is what they call 'done.'  We've surrounded this little outstation with enough concrete and barbed wire to choke a horse.  It goesn't seem to stop...them....from getting tangled up in it.  It's like they can't feel pain.  My bunkmate keeps saying it's the Living Dead.  Yeah right.  My bet is on people out here in the sticks getting ( Read more... )

I've been trying to pray, I think we all have.  Someone mentioned that our unit was picked, lottery style, to come out to this place.  We can' construct the barricades fast enough.  We're working in shifts.  While half of us sleep or eat, the other half are building or shooting...  The woods are just full of em.  Civilians...but not civilians ( Read more... )