Late nite fake apocalypse ..come join in!!

Monocrom · Sep 11, 2016

Hey guys, got your ears on? It's Mono. Finally done with all that work. Been non-stop grave digging detail on a rotating basis for nearly everyone left alive. What a headache..... First off, Ratty is dead. Doc had to bandage up his mouth after my fun was over. Ratty didn't answer any questions. Well, not verbally. Something just didn't seem right. That tiny collection of tents had piss poor OPSPEC (operational security) in place. And yeah, it did seem a bit too easy finding them. Even with the map. Despite their size being too big for a four-man team to tackle, it was still rather small. Too small. Way too small. So then it hit me......

I went to have a chat with Ratty who finally woke up. I said something to him. The look in his eyes confirmed my suspicions. I then had a better chat with Joshua. He agreed with my idea. Leaving his house, I ran into Synnia. She was by the front door. And I was just in time to watch her fling herself from her chair, and onto the front steps of the house. It is a bit of a disturbing sight watching a paraplegic pulling herself up a short flight of stairs.

I picked her up a....... She started struggling in my arms. Thankfully, no one else was around to see what was happening. I don't know if Joshua heard the commotion outside. He must have. But didn't come out. Someone upstairs did. Problem is, I can't tell if it was Joshua's wife, or Sara. For all I know, it might have been Jordan since the shadow wasn't standing right by the window. Quite frankly, Synnia was making a huge fool of herself, and I just wasn't in the mood for her nonsense. I knew why she was there. The top button on her dress came undone, and the bra she was wearing definitely wasn't designed with comfort in mind. No matter how many times I helped her and Jaime, she STILL didn't get it! She didn't have to do such things just for shelter, protection, food, etc.

Most of Feminism was dead. Women needed big strong men once again to protect them from other big strong men physically able to take what they want, and "No" wasn't what they wanted. But not all of it was dead. Synnia just refused to believe that. Now she was a giant, childish, squirming fish in my arms. I told her in no uncertain terms to stop this foolishness and behave. I then told her that Jaime wasn't going to be part of the massive raid on Tent City. She looked up at me with utter disbelief. But she calmed down long enough to let me pick her up. She wrapped her arms around my neck and tucked in her chin like a wounded little bird. Surprisingly, her chair hadn't tipped over when she flung herself from it. I put her back in and positioned her legs so her feet wouldn't drag on the ground.

I told her no one saw what she did. But that her reputation as a strong-willed married woman who could handle herself with quiet dignity was paper-thin. Although I wouldn't tell anyone the truth, she had to be careful she didn't do so, herself. That calmed her down even more. Once again, I stated that her husband was definitely NOT going to be one of the many men (and small handful of women) going out on the raid.

But I didn't tell her the rest...... Namely that he'd likely be better off going on the raid, considering what was coming next. Screw it! I wheeled her away from the house, she took up her Quiet Dignity role..... And Joshua avoided one helluva awkward moment of Synnia throwing herself and her body at him, just to get him to keep her husband out of the raid. Her horrendous desperation was over. We passed by quite a few people who smiled and waved. I did too, with a smile on my face. She, with her Quiet Dignity, waved as well. Screw the truth, Life goes smoother when everyone pretends everything is fine.

To clarify, Tent City looked like a real juicy target. Like a big fat juicy worm cast into a lake. And we're the fish. Well, this fish saw the damn hook! We go, we attack the small force there. Likely made up of raw, green, recruits. Meanwhile, with all our best men over there (along with a few very butch women who can fight and easily pass for men), guess who shows up at the gates of the fort? Yup! A much stronger force! Full of experienced, older, combat veterans. I told Ratty I knew..... His eyes got big and wide before he passed from this world into hopefully a more hellish one, for him.

So yeah, no Tent City raid for Jaime..... He'd be staying behind with me, Moe, Ray, and quite a few other men. The problem was, we couldn't evacuate the non-butch women, or children. Not an issue regarding time. There just wasn't any place to evacuate them to. Yeah, I had my personal bunker. I could realistically take one person. Or live in horrendously cramped conditions with Sara, little Bradford, Jordan, and Amy. Cramped as hell in a small underground bunker realistically made for one, maybe just maybe two people if they get along REALLY well.

"Hey Uncle Mono, how come you never mentioned this safe haven?"

"Why couldn't you save Mommy and Daddy?"

"Why couldn't you save Kate?"

Yeah..... Why couldn't I?...... Okay no! They never even met her. What am I talking about.

So, for better or worse, we were taking the bait and still protecting ourselves. Can you say "Cannon Fodder." Trouble is, those of us who were going to be armed to the teeth and staying behind in the fort..... we might be the cannon fodder. But the truth is, things definitely did not go as expected. Joshua made it clear to Sergay that his inventory of ammo at the warehouse was going to take a sizeable hit. Ironically, not a word of protest from him. Might have something to do with the fact that I told him about the bait. Sergay isn't stupid. Lose some inventory, or lose it all when the bastards knock down the gates and shoot all the men. I'm sure you guys can guess what they'll do to the women and children. And once they're done with their "fun"..... plenty of new test subjects to be experimented on.

Ratty was the only scientist I interacted with at the "Bunker," The rest were various assistants, nurses, military men who guarded and watched me like a hawk. But I'm not naive. Ratty wasn't their only Dr. Mengele. I'll burn this place down with everyone in it to stop that from happening. But there's just not enough diesel fuel for that......

A few days ago, the men set out in the early morning. That one working truck of our's made so many trips hauling men, weapons, gear, butch lesbians...... Some waited for hours on their bellies. Bathroom?...... Piss yourself. Number two?..... Just hold it, dammit! Sun went down, at one AM, the order was given. With many of their men simply asleep, we thankfully suffered few casualties as I later learned. Unfortunately, one of those casualties wasn't John! They pulled his butt out of there! One of the wounded soldiers tried shooting him in the back, but missed..... ended up shooting him in the ass with a little .22 caliber revolver. And yes, I laughed my ass off! Those of you hearing this, are likely laughing too!

Three prisoners. One is a Captain Garcia. One looked like the guy who led John over to the tree to take a piss. A Private Laver. Another one was too scared to talk. He was dressed as a Private, but his appearance was off. Just not right somehow. Imagine a fat Star Wars nerd putting on a fake beard, denim pants, a leather jacket; and trying to pass himself off as an Outlaw Biker.

"Yeah, you're not fooling anyone Private Parts. Or, whatever the hell your name is!"

The rest were massacred.

Thankfully, interrogating them has so far been easy. Why?? Because there was no massive military force knocking down our gates with murderous intent. We waited for hours! Hidden in all sorts of places. Waiting...... And the bastards stood us up! Like we're not good enough to raid and murder and experiment on?!?! Screw them!!

I stood around for hours...... waiting. My Ruger Mini-14 in my hands. Not even strapped to my shoulder. For the first time in a long time, I felt the weight of my Busse Steel Heart II on my belt. Felt heavy. It felt eager. I had my Ruger, my .9mm, Kate's .38, an 870 borrowed from the warehouse stashed nearby just in case..... And yet I couldn't shake the feeling my Busse was going to come off the bench for this one, after all the others have had their turn. Hell, even my cheap tactical folder and multi-tool were warming up in the bullpen, just in case. And we got nothing.

We didn't stand down until even after the rest came back. We didn't stand down until half an hour after the sun came up. That's when Joshua gave the order to quit and get some breakfast. No one grumbled. No one was upset. We were all just surprised that the fort didn't get raided.

Joshua wants me to stay away from the three prisoners, at least for now. He wants John interrogated too. But in a "friendly" way. Right now, Doc is treating his gunshot wound. Everyone is so concerned about him. Both those who truly are, and those of us faking interest in his health. There's finally some strong, real, unity at the fort.

Yeah! That's not gonna last long!! But what the heck, enjoy it for now. You're getting fired on Monday. Screw it!! Party all weekend with the company charge card!! Oh, check out that nice Rolex. That'll be charge my good man. Wrap it up, and put a nice big red bow on it. Thank you!!!

I don't trust that bastard. No way they just plucked him from random.

We buried our dead. Buried theirs' too! Burned Tent City to ashes! We buried everything that existed of them. Damn, I hate shovels! Soon, old Mono will be doing the interrogating of those three. That just leaves John. He'll have a polite chat with Joshua soon too.....

Oh yeah, I found out who kept letting Amy out before I got here. As if this messed up situation wasn't seriously screwed up already. I'll deal with that later. I need to see Sara. I just need to see little Bradford's adorable smiling face. Hopefully she'll pull him off of her breast long enough to let me see his smile. I need to be reminded there are still good things in this FUBAR world.

Almost forgot. Sorry guys. Hey, clampdaddy; .22 molds are easy to improvise. Get a good, thick, square block of wood. Slice it in half, assuming you have access to a good power saw. Put the two halves together. Take a power drill. Get a bit the same diameter as a .22 and drill two holes into the block where it is split. Those are your molds. Raise half a block a bit higher than the other one. Carefully pour the molten lead into the molds. When dry, take the two halves apart. Use a knife to shave off the excess lead. Now you have a couple of .22 rounds. Being wood, the molds won't last much too long after a handful of uses. Find more wood and repeat the process. Sadly without power, this method doesn't work.

Hey, Cookie; sorry you had to go through all that. I really am. I liked Skittles when he was a cute little pet. Sad to hear he wasn't even that much. But no aliens. Good to have you back down on planet Earth. Back down to reality. Though I know that's not much of a prize. Like winning a free kick to the balls. Still, it's good to have you back with us Brother.

Stay safe guys. Interview time is going to be REAL interesting. I'm going to go sharpen up my cheap tactical folder.

Monocrom · Sep 13, 2016

Hey guys, it's Mono again. I have to be honest..... I'm thinking of quitting. I think this has gone on long enough, run its course and maybe it's just time for me to..... leave the fort.

Can't help it. I don't even want to transmit about the screwed up situation with Amy, and the person who let her out on a semi-regular basis at night to possibly get devoured by Rabs. Or, the insane reason they gave me when I confronted them. No, it wasn't John. If it was, I'd have made him disappear again. And guaranteed he'd never be found this time. I'll talk to you guys in a couple of days. Peace and safety Brothers.

Monocrom · Sep 23, 2016

Hey guys, it's Mono. Sorry for the delay. Interrogations took longer than expected despite going smoothly at first. But the long wait was partly due to the fact that Joshua wanted me nowhere near them. Guess he wanted to try the kinder and gentler approach. Plus, I've been having issues lately with this radio of mine. Ever try to fix something when you're not the most handiest person in the world? And actually having the phonebook thick sized manual wasn't that much of a help. But got it working now. Should be good for at least a few weeks. Thankfully, nothing on it needed replacing, otherwise I'd be screwed.

Overall, this has been a miserable week for me. An eye condition flared up again. It basically leaves me blind in one eye for several days. Not good! Definitely not out here. I remember the very first time it happened. I was scared as Hell, but could do nothing about it. I knew an E.R. couldn't treat it. I'd just be waiting there for hours to see a doctor who would say, "Make an appointment as early as possible with an eye doctor." Yeah.... Well, that took longer than expected. Weeks later by the time my appointment rolled around, the eye cleared up on its own. I was less scared the second and third time it happened weeks apart. Then weeks turned into months. By then, it was just annoying. Could happen at any time, no reason at all, then clears up after several days. Still it's incredibly annoying.

I kept myself busy by helping to take inventory of the items that somehow were salvaged from Tent City. Two diesel troop transport trucks, two Jeeps, One desert tan Humvee, numerous weapons, some ammo, and various "souvenirs." Yup, some were turned in. I bet a whole heck of a lot just disappeared into pockets. Oh, Sergay was very happy. He ended up with the bulk of the stuff for the warehouse. I don't think I've seen him so excited. The vehicles are going to be kept. Though Joshua did tell Sergay he could have one of the two Jeeps for the warehouse. Thing is though.... They weren't military Jeeps. They were the civilian version of those old military Jeeps. One was dark blue, the other was dark green. Both had the hard-shell covers over the back that also formed the roof. One of the two troop transport trucks was missing its canvas cover. The other one had a ratty cover with several patches in it. The Humvee was military but also not in the best of shape. Once again, something just didn't make sense.

Getting sick and tired of that happening.

Even though he told me to stay away, I visited the prisoners while they were being interrogated. Or, politely being chatted up, as I like to put it. As soon as I walked inside, the handful of men doing the interrogating got upset.

"You're not supposed to be here." That was from some 19 year-old who likes to pretend he's useful to us. His daddy is useful to the community. Him? Not so much.... Good old Mallard. (Yup, that's his first name.) He even kinda waddled like a duck when he walked. A nerd, but without most of the intelligence of one. What do they call that? A geek? Overweight with thick black-rimmed glasses. No wonder these men were tight-lipped. A little girl in a little pink tutu would be more intimidating. Oh well..... One dirty look from me made him back down really quickly.

I took a close look at Captain Garcia. One of the books I stumbled onto while out scavenging early on during the mass infection was a book for Army officers. How to dress, how to speak to superior officers, how to speak to lesser officers, how to speak to enlisted men, how to properly shine shoes, which medals are placed first on formal military dress, which medals are placed to the right or above other medals. And a whole bunch of formal instructions. The thing was thick enough that if it was a hardcover book, you could kill a Rab by hitting him in the head just once. It was something to read to pass the time while at a temporary safe location. Besides, at the time, I was running short of reading materials. I read it cover-to-cover twice. One section also included a chart of just how long it takes an officer (on average) to reach each rank. Obviously, during wartime the amount of time to reach each progressive rank can get shortened depending on what the officer does to distinguish himself during combat.

Any of you guys remember the Fort Hood shooting back in 2009. A psychiatrist and U.S. Army Major went on a shooting spree. He was Muslim, he hated America, and as it turns out; he told anyone even remotely willing to listen that he hated America. Anyone willing to listen before the day of the shooting. He told fellow officers. He told his patients. He told enlisted men at his favorite hang-outs. Obviously due to his rank, no one told him to screw off. But they likely reported to superior officers what Major Hasan had said. And nothing was done. On the contrary.... despite not having distinguished himself in any meaningful way, he achieved the rank of "Major." How?! He was too damn young. Not even remotely in the ballpark for peace-time increase in rank, considering his age. Yet, no one bothered to ask how or why he was promoted so quickly up the ranks.

Now looking at "Captain" Garcia, my suspicions were confirmed! No way is this young Latino remotely old enough to be a Captain in the U.S. Army. Garcia, tied to the chair, didn't like the way I was looking at him. He asked what the Hell I was looking at. I told him, "Someone pretending to be a captain."

With that, I reached over and tore the captain's bars off of his unkempt uniform. He was outraged! I back-handed him across the face. He fell over in the chair. He started cursing! Mallard and the others with him jumped up. He asked what he hell I thought I was doing. I looked at the good "Captain" as I told Mallard that he's no captain. One, he's too young to hold that rank in the U.S. Army. He might be a mercenary. But more likely, just a survivor who found a uniform on a dead hero. Or, (and I didn't mention this is what I personally believed) he was part of some sort of paramilitary group. Most likely hired by those at the "Bunker" to provide security for them. Must admit, during my days as a "guest" there, something about those men didn't seem right. Now it all makes sense. The Government was not behind what took place there. They weren't the ones who experimented on those newborns. But I wanted to know who was....

I told Garcia that this interrogation was over. That from now on, he and Laver would not be treated with the respect due to American military active-duty personnel. That got his attention. I ushered Mallard and the others out. Leaving Garcia on the floor to think about what I said. Mallard wasn't happy. He swore he'd speak to Joshua about this. I told him he absolutely would. And right now!

That confused the hell out of him. But we went together to Joshua's tent to speak with him. He wasn't happy that I had gone over there. But of course, he sided with me when I told him what I had discovered after walking in. I didn't rub his nose in it. But keeping me out of the interrogations was a mistake. I learned more about Garcia than anyone had in over a freakin' week! And I did it without even asking a question!

Joshua said I could now be in the room and help with the interrogations. And the first one would be with John. Later that night, I was invited to a private dinner at Joshua's house. John would be the only othere guest. Well, John and his cushy inflatable donut pillow for his wounded ass. Joshua wanted a friendly approach to this interrogation. Let's just say we learned a lot....

But first I want to talk about who was at the window when Synnia made a fool of herself. It was Jordan. Soon after I wheeled Synnia to her home in the fort, I returned later on to the house. Jordan was there. She waited by the side of the couch for me to pick out a book from the shelves. As soon as I sat down, she got on the couch and cuddled next to me. I put one arm around her. But before I started to open the book, she blurted out that she was glad that I had "..... gotten daddy's new whore away from their door."

She has such an innocent, sometimes pouty, face. But once in awhile she swears worse than a sailor. Her honesty is blatant too. She can be sweet when she wants to. She just doesn't want to much of the time. Her mother has punished her before for the swearing. I doubt if those punishments will end any time soon.

I told her that Synnia isn't a whore. She's just someone willing to go to extremes to survive and to protect her husband. I reminded Jordan that she and her family are very lucky. They haven't lived the way Synnia and her husband have. And that's even with Jaime being a young prepper. It's been an incredibly long time since she's seen a Rab. I asked if she knew that sometimes Rabs bite and devour each other when they can't find uninfected people to attack. This revelation surprised her a bit. I could see it in her eyes as she slowly shock her head back and forth. I told her that Synnia would no longer be coming by the house. That what happened between her and Joshua was a one-time mistake. That's when she hit me with something unexpected.....

"That's the same thing mommy said when I asked her about Daddy's new whore."

Yup, Joshua's wife knew. Apparently there weren't too many indiscretions on his part. Call me old fashioned but even one is too many. I guess Joshua's wife decided that since he's the one in charge of keeping everyone alive and well in the fort.... that she can forgive the occasional "indiscretion." Okay. Once again though, Joshua's wife does have a nicer body than what I first mentioned. And, she's far from ugly. Maybe I shouldn't say such things. But it's the truth.

What came next really hit me like a ton of bricks. Jordan said that her mom knows about everything. Including the times Amy got out. What bothered me is that she said it the way a little girl would talk about the family new puppy getting out of the front yard with the gate being closed. I asked her to explain. She turned away. I asked her if her mommy was the one who let Amy out before I came inside the fort. She said "No." Then Jordan told me that she was the one who had done that each time. I was shocked! And furious! I grabbed her by her shoulders and demanded she explain herself. She looked upset. I let go, and in a firm voice (without yelling) I told her she needed to explain herself. Why did she intentionally put her little sister in such danger when she should be looking out for her instead?

Well, I ended up getting a very long and not so detailed explanation that I'm still trying to wrap my head around. I honestly don't know how to explain it. But I'll try. I'll also explain what John told us a few days later. He was a regular Chatty Cathy. As the beer flowed, he opened up even more. By the end of the dinner, I had more respect for his butt-pillow than I did for him. Not that I ever had much for him to begin with.

Crap! 8pm. Sorry guys, I need to head back to the fort for another meeting with Joshua. I'll tell you guys how that goes, in the morning. Along with Jordan and John's separate explanations for the the things they did. I'll transmit again at nearly 10am in the morning.

Stay safe guys.

Monocrom · Sep 24, 2016

Hey guys.... it's Mono.

Damn.... it's been several days but I still can't get over what Jordan told me. Even worse was her reason for doing it. I've suspected for sometime that something is more than just "off" about Joshua's daughters. Don't get me wrong, I love them as if they were my own. Despite the fact that she almost never leaves her upstairs bedroom, I know their mother knows it. she knows I've grown attached to her girls. Not only does she not mind, but I think she actively encourages her little ones to treat me as a clone of their daddy. Just with a different face and slightly different personality. If you guys know what I mean. I hope you do....

Right.... Jordan's explanation. Apparently, she dreamed that the community here would fall apart. Massive in-fighting between Joshua's people and John's. She had the dream several times. Slight variations here and there. But the main themes always occurred. The massive in-fighting, the sheer gore as everyone slaughtered each other. The gates coming down. The Rabs coming in to feast on those unlucky enough not to have been gunned down by their fellow community members. Sometimes the gore got so bad that she stopped seeing her dream in colors. No, it didn't turn black & white. Apparently, some folks can only dream in black & white. No.... the gore made her dreams red, with subtle shades of red to distinguish the people and the Rabs from the structures as well as the background.

She told me she used to wake up in a cold sweat. Nightgown and sheets soaked in an ocean of her cold sweat. (Poor thing.)

Then the dreams slowly changed. She saw a shadow. A handful of shadows each fighting to hold the community together. One in particular even started reversing the terrible events in her head. Time and people moved backwards in her dreams. The shadow stopped the worst of the terrible events from taking place. She couldn't see who the shadow belonged to. At times, it changed shape. It looked like the shadow of a monster with large claws. Claws that intentionally cut up faces of men. Only men. Never the women or children. Before using its claws to blind the men. But Jordan described the men as selfish, greedy, wretched, those who did perverted things to whomever they wanted to..... And that brought out the monster shadow. Jordan could hear the men screaming in her dreams.

At other times, the shadow appeared to wear a long robe. To plead with community members to work together against the Rabs, to protect the children above all else. It was almost as though the shadow belonged to a Savior. Sent to specifically protect them. And if he didn't come to the fort at all.... no one else would take his place.

It reminded me of an incident in 2012. I was serving jury duty. Unemployed at the time I was called up, I went because you get paid for going. Also, it had been numerous years since I last served. I figured I'd also get it out of the way since I was hopeful to find a job soon. Didn't want to get called up after I started working. Three days of reading and chatting a bit with the same two guys I met on Day One. I'd never see them again after we got dismissed on Day Three. Oh well, it was nice while we were stuck in that large room. And that's the thing..... One large room with about 300 plus people there. All at the same time. At one point, a large Asian man fell asleep. And, he started snoring. Literally no one got up to wake him. Not even the bailiffs who were in the room. I think there were three or four of them there. Finally, I stood up. Walked over to the guy. Gentle shook his shoulder. And, politely informed him that he was snoring..... and quite loudly too. He apologized. That was it. Well, not quite. A young Asian woman sitting behind him whispered "Thank you" to me. A couple of others quietly thanked me as well. Sometimes if you yourself don't fix a problem LITERALLY no one else will. Don't expect someone else to take care of it if YOU don't.

Jordan went on to tell me that sometimes the shadow was that of a man. Just a man. But very determined to keep everyone safe whom he cared about. Slowly over time, the really bad events didn't happen anymore in her dreams. Each time her nightmare got less nightmare-ish, the shadow would reach down and pick up little Amy in his arms. But Jordan still couldn't see whom the shadow belonged to. While it's true that Amy would let any big strong man pick her up if he did it gently, Jordan could tell the shadow didn't belong to someone inside the walls. An outsider who would.... save them?

I don't know.... Well, Jordan decided that he would first save Amy before he saved anyone else. That was one of the few constants in her nightmare. So Jordan started looking for small gaps in the walls. She found them! (I did too when I was first welcomed by Joshua, asked to stay, and then conducted my investigation as to how Amy was getting outside at night.) She let her out. Hours later Amy would come back. Usually by standing near the gates. She never told on Jordan. She never did....

And you guys guessed it. One day, this Outsider brought her back home after saving her. And she was definitely in my arms. Just like Jordan's dreams said she would be. Although Moe carried Amy inside, Amy told her sister that I was the one who saved her, who found her. That was good enough for Jordan. Though being the type of girl she is, she doubted herself. She kept an eye on me. My actions were slowly winning her over. But the day I saved her life, she threw away all her suspicions and her doubts about me. She trusted me completely. She told me that had I been a ferocious man-eating bear, she'd still cuddle up and fall asleep next to me. Because she just knew I wouldn't devour her as a snack. She just knew that she'd be safe in my thick fur coat.

Yeah..... No pressure there to save everybody! None at all. I told her that what she did was wrong. That no matter what her dreams may come, she was wrong for putting her little sister in danger. That Amy could have gotten torn to pieces. But Jordan said that would never happen. I told her it could have. That I was just a man. She said she agreed with me. That I was just a man..... and sometimes I was just a monster, and sometimes just their Savior.

I started getting really frustrated at this point. Took some effort to keep my anger in check. But I managed. Once again, I told her I was only a man, and that if God wanted to, he'd send someone to save us all. Jordan's reply should have caught me off-guard. But surprisingly, it didn't. She said.....

"He did send someone. He sent you."

I quickly replied that He also sent Moe, Carl Miller, Jaime, Ray, and a bunch of other names that I rattled off. All of whom helped to fight for this place. I guess I contradicted myself. You don't get one all-powerful being sent to Earth. (At least not anymore.) You get individuals who work at their one little spot on Earth with other individuals who try to make the world a better place by concentrating on the numerous little spots until the world becomes a better place. At least that's how it's supposed to work. But apathy, greed, and all other human failings sometimes prevent that from taking place. It reminds me of an old Jewish story a Jewish co-worker once told me. A man made a success for himself. He looked around at the world and wondered about all the suffering and misery that he saw. He wondered why God didn't send someone to help. The man became more successful in Life. Yet he looked around and saw even more suffering and misery.

The man lived for many years. When he finally passed away, he went up to Heaven. A voice told him he would meet God, and could ask him one question. Just one. The man knew what question he'd ask. So he asked God why, with all the misery and suffering going on in the world, why didn't He send someone down to Earth to help? God looked at him and replied.

"I did send help.... I sent you."

Moral of that story isn't that the man was the Savior of the World. He was just one man who could have helped to make the world a tiny fraction less miserable. But he chose to just complain, to do nothing. To wait for someone else to take care of it.

I told Jordan that story. I just wanted her to understand that I'm just a man. Hell, I couldn't even save Kate or Chris. I'm so bad at this that I didn't even know they needed saving in the first damn place! Are you kidding me..... I could barely SAVE money in my checking account back when the world was still The World. Now I'm supposed to save everyone in this freakin' fort??

As you guys can tell, my storytelling backfired horribly! Jordan said she understood. But the smile she gave me, along with the twinkle in her eyes the way she looked at me; yeah, she believes I'm their Outsider Savior more than ever. Crap!

Speaking of crap.... maybe you guys figured out the same thing I did too. Yeah, her mother once called me a monster. Told me she wasn't sure if I was one or not. How she hadn't made up her mind about me and all that other crap. I told Jordan to head outside the house and play. How she needed to look out for Amy from now until the day she died in order to even try to make up for putting her in danger all those previous times. Jordan nodded. But the smile and the twinkle never left her face as she walked out the door.

You know..... I was really looking forward to reading the book I'd picked out. I really was. My plan was to read for at least two hours, as much as could with Jordan cuddled up and asleep next to me. She told me earlier that her bad dream had stopped soon after I arrived. Stopped completely. I put the book back, and rushed upstairs. I knocked. Her voice asked who it was.

"Woman, you know who it is. Open this door. I'm not in the mood for games."

My temper was getting the best of me. And I wasn't in the mood to even try to restrain it. She opened the door. I confronted her. I told her I wasn't sure what was going on, but that I knew that all of her daughters were "special." Likely in different ways. I told her that sort of thing usually gets passed down.... and clearly they didn't get any of it from their father. So guess who that leaves..... She didn't deny it. Simply said that it's true that all the women in her family have always been very special, in different ways. It was at about this point that I noticed her pale skin was wrapped inside a not completely see thru nightgown. But just a bit too much nonetheless. I grabbed a blanket off a chair and wrapped it around her. She just stood there. Putting up no protest at all. I told her it was inappropriate for her, a married woman, to be dressed that way, alone; in a room with a man who was not her husband.

She didn't look me in the eye. Simply stated that I was the one who demanded to be let in. I told her she could have easily tossed on a robe before opening the door. I told her I had a very strong feeling that what made her "special" was somehow knowing literally every little detail (no matter how slight) of everything that went on all around her. Just like Jordan has the ability to vaguely predict possible future events through her dreams. As for her other daughters, I'd eventually figure out what made them "special" too.

She still couldn't look me in the eye! But she did ask what made me "special." I told her I had the rarest of super powers..... Common Sense!

Oh.... that got her to look up at me in a weird mix of surprise, confusion, and awe. I could tell she wasn't expecting that. Caught her completely off-guard with that one. I then told her if she still wasn't sure if I was a monster, a man, or a Savior; then she better hope it wasn't the first one. Despite what Jordan may have told her, even monsters can be pushed to their limits to the point they can't distinguish one gender from another. She understood my point. I told her to go ahead and tell Joshua of our little friendly chat. Both this, and our first one. But we both know you wouldn't burden him with such a trivial thing.

I then turned around and left. Speaking of friendly chats..... Crap! Battery is dying on this thing. It just doesn't hold a charge nearly as long as it used it. Give me two days to give it an absolute full charge, and I'll let you guys know about those other friendly chats.

Stay safe guys. I think I need more extra strength Tylenol. My head hurts again.

Adian · Sep 24, 2016

We are actually living through a real life one here in Puerto Rico. On Wednesday an island wide blackout struck the entire island impacting over 3 million people. We are now into day 4 and you can no longer buy ice to keep food from spoiling. I just emptied my entire refrigerator of a couple hundred dollars in meats. Luckily, we have a months worth of MREs and Camp food from our normal trips to get us through if needed. Lights are starting to come back on in some areas.

It's important to be prepared because you never know when this type of stuff will happen. Candles, a propane/charcoal grill, flashlights and a full tank of gas. Emergency rations and a way to get water. We have a 10000 falling rain water collection tank so we don't have that worry at least.

Monocrom · Sep 27, 2016

Hey guys, it's Mono. As promised, our Dinner with John. Some things that didn't make sense, now did. Residents of the fort can come and go as they please. I don't remember his name off the top of my head. But I told you guys about him. Went missing one night, I investigated to see if Joshua might be a monster, I ended up with eight pre-1965 silver dimes left for me. Yeah, THAT guy. Turns out that he and John were out for a walk when they encountered a small patrol of what we've now verified is a paramilitary group originally based out of Spain. They were here in America shortly before the outbreak started. Hired by some paranoid billionaire nut-job calling himself General Collins.

Yeah, the young "Captain" decided to spill the beans. Apparently Mallard told him that if no full Intel was gathered from the prisoners, that he (Mallard) would be replaced. Guess who would be replacing him? Come on, one guess..... So he spilled the beans. Turns out Private Laver had a medical issue he kept hidden. When it suddenly flared up, the nurse saved his life. He was lucky she was bringing him his lunch when it happened. Otherwise, he likely would be dead right now. He soon talked out of gratitude to the nurse. That left Mister "I'm pretending to be just a soldier." He's scared, but hasn't talked yet. Well, he'd better talk soon. Otherwise Joshua is going to let me have a turn with him.

Still not sure why Joshua basically put a 19 year-old in charge of the interrogations. Makes no sense, to me. But the fat four-eyed little punk finally got some results. Mainly thanks to me. But the bulk of the useful information came from John and the friendly interrogation over dinner. For some odd reason, Joshua invited the nurse too. Must admit, Plain Jane looks a lot better with a bit of the right make-up on, some perfume, and the little black dress she was wearing. I tried to concentrate on what John was saying while Joshua's wife served the meals. (She still had trouble making eye contact with me. But damn she can be charming when she chooses to be.) She spent most of the time in the kitchen though. Took me awhile, but I soon realized the nurse was there to keep John in a good mood. Some nice eye-candy. Thing is, I was having trouble concentrating too. Maybe it's time I finally pay that place a visit. You know, the one that doesn't exist. Hell might help my image. Sara said a couple of days ago that folks are starting to wonder if I practice "An Alternative Lifestyle." Oh goodie. So they not only wonder if I'm a monster but they're wondering if I only go after men for another reason.

"Yeah, I'll give you a choice. I'll carve up your face like a Thanksgiving Day turkey with my claws! Or........."

Yeah well, keep in mind whom I had to use my .9mm on; the first time. Wait, where was I? Oh yes......

So John and What's his name stumbled onto a patrol of our new paramilitary jack-asses. One of them panicked and tried to run. Obviously it wasn't John who ran. Got shot in the back for his troubles. Yeah, he disappeared inside some hidden cave. Never to be seen again. Garcia though became very friendly with John. When you trade with everyone who stops by, obviously everyone is who's gonna find out about you, and everything you have. These guys got sent out from "The Bunker" to investigate. Apparently they had sent in a few guys at different times to do some trading with us. I guess one of them spotted me at one time, recognized who I was, and later reported back to Ratty that his favorite lab rat was still alive. I'm still not sure why Ratty showed up here. But I'm suspecting more and more that just maybe he thought the helicopter crash was an accident. That I managed to survive, and found a home among those at the fort. And that I'd actually be happy to see him. Because I was so cooperative from Day One. Well, screw you Ratty if you were stupid enough to believe I'd actually be happy to see and give you a hug; along with a big sloppy kiss on the mouth! I had no other cards to play back then except Cooperation and Obedience. So those were the ones I played.

Any who, they were discussing how to get inside the fort when one of their night-time patrols stopped to rest and got ambushed by four out of six men. The other two being Carl Miller and myself as we headed back to the fort because Moe's brother didn't trust us to just blindly follow his orders. Well, they technically got a spy inside. He just had two bloody legs full of bullet holes that would soon have to be amputated because gangrene was starting to set in. Oh and he had no way to communicate with his superiors. Then for some stupid reason he tried to intimidate a young mother by threatening her baby. And Sara put more bullet holes into him. Yeah, turns out there was no other group of non-cannibals. It was all just small groups of paramilitary dressed as civilian survivors. And after the slaughter of that one patrol, thanks to Moe's now dead brother..... Some of the men nearly mutinied. This was supposed to be a somewhat easy target. Not only did we shoot, but we're good at it, and good at conducting ambushes. At least Moe's brother was. Hey, they didn't know he was dead. So they waited.

And John dropped into their laps. He claims they threatened to kill his family if he didn't cooperate. (And if you believe that, I've got a bridge over in Brooklyn for sale. Dirt cheap!!) Still, Joshua remained cordial. If you ask me, I think the plan was a bit different. John comes back to the fort. Instigates trouble whenever he can. Disrupt the stability inside as much as possible. Report back to them. Head back inside, and repeat! After awhile, they show up at the gates. Get in. Take over. Set up John as the puppet leader. Then over time, move people to "The Bunker" to be slowly experimented on. If one group dies, just get more people from the fort. Plenty of uninfected there. THAT was their ultimate goal.

According to John though, once the inside was clearly divided between him and Joshua; the paramilitary forces would show up en masse at the front gate. They'd act like an extension of the U.S. military. Ask to see who's in charge, pretend that the Government was up and running again. Then offer aid on a grand scale. They'd be let in thanks to protests from John's side if Joshua said "No thanks."

Thus taking over without firing a shot. Soon appointing John as the new civilian leader. They'd issue the orders and he'd simply sign off on each one. But not too long ago, John overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Yup, they planned on experimenting on the uninfected residents of the fort. Heard it while reporting in to Tent City with his latest report. So they took him into custody right then and there. That was how John disappeared.

Not sure why they kept him alive. Maybe to convince him to go along with the program after all. John does have a lot of supporters. It would be much easier if, after they got in, they had his support.

So that's everything. But it's really not. Something isn't quite right. And I think Mr. Pretend Private has the rest of the answers we need. Oh well, I'll get started on his Not-even-remotely-friendly interview in a day or two.

Looks like it's time for the resident monster to cut into more faces. Where'd I put that cheap tactical knife?......

Monocrom · Oct 10, 2016

Hey guys, it's Mono. You out there? Still alive? I suppose if you are, you were wondering the same thing about me. Apologies for the delay in getting back to you guys. Been a busy few days. Even went sight-seeing out of state. But more on that later. Oh yes, good news; I found the transmission scrambler on this thing. It means I can be more brutally honest than before. Sorry guys, but I had to hold some things back. Not anymore!

I programmed all of your frequencies guys. You'll hear my actual transmissions. Everyone else is going to hear artificially preprogrammed static that is about four hours long, and on a loop. Nice, huh?

So the main thing I've been keeping from you guys is the large supply of seeds the fort has. And I don't mean that common hybrid variety that produces food whose seeds you can't use for growing more food. We've got the good stuff. Many years ago, maybe even before Communism took over, there was a country storeroom bunker in Russia. Massive amounts of seeds were stored there. Food was scarce. Even the ones assigned to guard it ended up running out of food.

Some wanted to eat the seeds. But they knew that if they did that, millions of people in future generations would starve to death. A brutal way to go. So they starved themselves to death, protecting the precious seeds. They couldn't do anything about the future re-education camps, the mass murders of citizens and the other miseries. Ironically, nothing about the forced starvations as food was simply denied to undesirables. But yeah.... I guess it's still a noble sacrifice. Maybe?.....

Point being, seeds are life in a long-term disaster such as this one. I guess you can call the Mutant Rabies Apocalypse, "long-term." Well, come to find out a few days ago when I approached Joshua about what I had determined was a large lack of seeds in the hut they were stored in; we have more huts! Who knew!! I sure as hell didn't. But Joshua said it was something on a "need to know" basis. Well, considering my job here at the fort, you'd think I'd "qualify" as someone who needed to know.

Joshua apologized for his oversight, as he called it. So, I was let in on it. Sorry guys, but even with the scrambler on, I'm not handing out directions. Turns out there are about eight other storehouses of seeds scattered outside the walls. When I asked how often they were inspected for possible theft or damage, Joshua said not to worry. He was very confident.... Until I asked him how often they were inspected for rats, vermin, and other rodents. The blank look on his face was horrifying. When I said "Seeds are Life," I wasn't screwing around or being sarcastic. Long-term, no seeds means no plants and no crops. If you have domesticated animals, what are they supposed to eat? They don't all survive on grass. And what happens if the land is barren? You can stock up on guns, bullets, compact emergency stoves..... Without seeds, you get to look forward to having survived zombie-like Rabs, murderous raiders, violent cannibals, and just normal people whose moral compass has been crushed by hunger and deprivation. Only to "survive" long enough to starve to death. What a sad joke. A bullet to the head from a vicious raider would be far more merciful.

I was furious at Joshua! But hid my anger. Next, I rounded up the guys. My usual four man team. Plus another one to go check out the seed deposits outside the walls. We found the very first one with its door busted open. Found some guy asleep inside. Wasn't a big storeroom at all. Anyone could have come along. He'd make a good meal for hungry Rabs. Looked like he was in his sixties. Heavally bandaged leg with two pieces of wood. A nicely done improvised splint. He never woke up. Before we could decide what to do, Ray stepped forward and shot him in the head.

"He was stealing our food, looked sick, broken leg, and no good to us alive."

Well, that was Ray's short explanation. Maybe he was right. I don't know..... All I do know is that I finally have Ray figured out. In a nutshell, he'll do whatever it takes to survive. Both for himself, and his buddies. Unless that buddy endangers his own survival. (Such as threatening to kill the one and only doctor around.) That's just the way he is. Oh well, that guy with the broken leg was probably better off. Far more merciful than what he had to look forward to. We found his heavy-duty industrial crowbar inside. We took it, went back to the truck, grabbed some tools and wood beams. We did a pretty good job of it. Others would head out later to do a much more permanent one. No issues with the next two. The last one we were in charge of though..... The place literally shook from the inside as we approached. It was about the size of a large outhouse. I knew what that shaking meant. And soon we heard that God-awful sound. Sounded like the entire place was covered floor to ceiling in rats.

Jaime asked if he should open the door. I made it clear that would be a very, very bad idea. I had Moe grab one of the spare fuel cans off the truck. We didn't want to. But there was no chance of salvaging anything from inside. And while they like squirrel meat, no one at the fort likes rat meat. We haven't gotten to that point, yet. Moe's lighter did the rest. We left before the rats started screaming.

The other team fared worse than we did. They lost two, due to vermin infestation. One was still standing. Thankfully it was the largest one outside the fort. The last had a milder infestation. A good supply of those seeds were able to be recovered. Still..... counting the one at the fort, out of nine we lost three. Along with a not insignificant portion from one more. That meant six, with one partially stocked. Let me tell you, that guy with the broken leg; turns out he didn't eat much of the seeds. We found an empty vodka bottle nearby after Ray finished him off. Considering the smell coming off of it, I'd say it was very recently dropped there by our uninvited guest.

It was a very good thing for Joshua that all of us were on his side. There was now a long-term shortage, considering the number of people at the fort. John and his people would never find out. For now, everyone has plenty to eat. That's all that matters..... For now.

It took a few days, but I started going back to Joshua's house on a regular basis. Jordan was unsure at first. But she smiled immediately when I patted the cushion next to me. Yeah, I'm far more than a substitute for Joshua to her. Then again, maybe that's what I am. A second father to her. Or maybe, a big powerful angry monster whom she can cuddle up to and fall asleep next to. A big angry, protective, monster. Maybe.....

Garcia was questioned about the group of men Moe and his brother and the others ambushed. He was cooperating completely now. Being treated more as an out of town relative than a prisoner. According to Mallard, Garcia hated to admit it but there were food shortages. He didn't want to Admit it. Not even to himself. But some of the men, though he was adamant not ALL, had shown signs of doing it. Little indicaters at first. Patrol goes out for several days. They return. Average of eight men..... But only one MRE pack was eaten. Made no sense. Yet the returning patrol wasn't hungry at all. Men seen wearing items they clearly didn't have before. Garcia mentioned how corporal Lopez was showing off his .22 caliber pistol that he later traded to another soldier for some silver coins. Thing is, Lopez didn't own a pistol. Just an UZI that was issued to him. Then one day, he had a pistol.

There were other examples. Patrol comes back, one of their own is slightly wounded. But everyone swears they made no contact at all, with anyone. Wounded man is later on seen wearing a gold chain that he definitely didn't have before. One time, a piece of mystery-meat wrapped up in a clear plastic garbage bag falls out of a soldier's rucksack after he returns to Tent City from patrolling.

Garcia isn't stupid. Just young. Private Laver got sick again. Good old nurse to the rescue!..... again. So now he talks to her almost non-stop. But little of what he says is of use to us. Garcia and Laver did admit though that they knew next to nothing about the other Private. That before they arrived at Tent City, he was assigned there too.

Well, after having to fight off a group of Rabs with the guys, while checking the fourth deposit of seeds; I was not in a good mood. Oh that's putting it mildly!! I get back to the fort, and seems I now have permission to question. Private What-the-hell-is-your-damn-name?!

Once again, scared but very reluctant to talk. I decided to keep my cheap tactical folder clipped to my pocket. Although pissed. I was also very tired. I told him we knew he wasn't a soldier. That we needed people with value. You know, doctors, mechanics, farmers, all those with real value to us. If he had real value, he needed to talk. Garcia and Laver were cooperating and thus being treated well. He wasn't, and our leader was fed up. So, unless he had a valuable skill or valuable information for us. He'd be executed in the morning.

Have a good night.

So I left him there to think about it. Oh! He talked! Hell, I couldn't get him to shut up the next morning. Which led to my sight-seeing trip mentioned earlier. Sorry though guys. It'll take two, maybe three days to sort out all the intelligence we found on our trip. When that's done, I'll update you guys on it. Trust me, you'll want to know what we found.

Try to stay alive, at least until then; okay? Just kidding guys. But seriously, find a safe place to hunker down. From what little I've already pieced together, yeah it's gonna be BIG!

Robdude · Oct 10, 2016

it's been a long while since I broadcasted.. after a few weeks of trying to talk myself out of it..I gave in an made the dangerous trip to my parents secret hideout.. after finding their home deserted a few months ago I figured they made to the hideout..but when I found the hideout..nobody had been there

we decided to stay here indefinitely as it has a generator, water, food, and looks like dad had a TV, books, and other entertainment added since my last visit. it has lots of our accumulated weapons and ammo as well. when I took the 6 mile hike back to the car for the few things I left inside I decided to skirt around the other side of the small mountain to where I hid the car to have a look see... that's when I found dads suburban..burned, shot to hell.. I was stunned.. I just sat an stared at it. wasn't until I was back to the bunker that it hit me..I have been down for a long while but I'm pulling out of it now. Amy has been a huge help... had I been alone, I would have lost it. my only shred of hope was that I found no bodies..but it's a long shot.. hope all is well for all of you out there fighting...surviving...

PeteyTwoPointOne · Oct 10, 2016

Adian said:
We are actually living through a real life one here in Puerto Rico. On Wednesday an island wide blackout struck the entire island impacting over 3 million people. We are now into day 4 and you can no longer buy ice to keep food from spoiling. I just emptied my entire refrigerator of a couple hundred dollars in meats. Luckily, we have a months worth of MREs and Camp food from our normal trips to get us through if needed. Lights are starting to come back on in some areas.

It's important to be prepared because you never know when this type of stuff will happen. Candles, a propane/charcoal grill, flashlights and a full tank of gas. Emergency rations and a way to get water. We have a 10000 falling rain water collection tank so we don't have that worry at least.

sounds like you are pretty well set up...keep us updated!

CookieRawwr · Oct 11, 2016

This is CookieRawwr with an update, I've been monitoring this channel for awhile now, I hope everyone of you is still safe. I have been traveling west in my armored Humvee for a few weeks now scavenging supplies and surviving. I have spent some time up at an old campsite in the Rocky Mountains. This has given me plenty of time to reflect on my insanity and the things I have done. Well one day I was rummaging through a Cabin up in the hills, really I was just hoping to meet a living person besides myself, all I found was a decayed and rotten corpse still clutching his bottle of Captain Morgan and a .357 Magnum in the other hand. I decided that I would give the person a proper burial which I did next to the chicken coop.

I then went inside to see what I could salvage and inside a old chest this guy had a couple full Auto FALs with the scopes. I was really excited as I was somewhat of a Gun Nut before everything started going bad. I took one of them to the guys grave site and buried it next to him and kept the one in better condition and the 1000 rounds of .308 in an ammo can I took them back to the Humvee. Well here I was, quite content with my discovery, after going back inside, when from out of the Kitchen a Rotter in the shape of a female lurched toward me with a shrill shriek in its throat. I reached for my gun belt and realized I had left the Colt .45 I was carrying on the fencepost. It was then that I started to panic I looked up towards the Fireplace and on the mantle piece was a double barrel shotgun hanging from a hook, below it was something glorious, I couldn't believe my eyes. I reached for the Busse MOABM with both hands. It was like lifting Excalibur from the stone at the bottom of the lake. Still astonished I acted on reflex and whipped around with this monster in hand. In an overhead arc I swung the blade and the rotter split in two, I felt hardly any resistance as the blade cut.

I was out of breath at this point. I then went to the kitchen to look for food and found some canned vegetables and some dried venison. I started to pack all this up into the Humvee. But I did feel bad about taking this guys obviously most prized possession, the MOABM. I decided to repackage it into the gun chest and locked it, then buried it underneath the wooden porch of the cabin. My Basic 13 and TGLB are all I really need to survive in this messed up world. I went back to my camp and thought about where to go next. I just need to find another living person. I hope they are friendly. CookieRawwr signing off.

Monocrom · Oct 15, 2016

It was good to see recorded updates on this radio. I got your latest transmissions, guys. Rob, good to hear that you and Amy are safe. And likely will be for quite awhile. Don't lose hope. Don't ever lose hope. Anything could have happened to your parents. Heck, it might not even be their vehicle that was shot up and torched. Just one that's the same make and model. They might be perfectly safe and trying to still get there. Don't lose hope.

Cookie, congrats on the score! Sorry if this comes off as heartless or cold.... But if something breaks on that FAL, you're going to wish you had kept the other one for spare parts. Considering how the world now is, pragmatism has to be front-and-center. With sentiment taking not just a backseat, but being tossed in the trunk. Still..... I saw a spider crawling up the side of Joshua's house yesterday. Couldn't bring myself to kill it. Just instantly reminded me of Skittles back when you described him as small, harmless, and friendly. Yeah......

Okay, so the guy turned out to be General Collins's personal assistant. He took off when the private citizen stinking rich guy pretending to be a General, lost his..... Yeah, he lost it completely! Bad enough Collins was obsessed with extending his life by a few more centuries, but he set about doing so! Well, trying anyway. Ironically, the "General" believed immortality was not possible. But he thought people died of natural causes when their body parts were no longer fresh and new.

You died of old age because either enough of your body parts wore out, or one of the really important ones did. Ironically, I have to agree that there's some truth in that philosophy. Human-beings..... we're not like cars. Engine might run for a couple of decades before it can't take it anymore. Put in a brand new one, and you're good to go. Hell, put in a refurbished one to save some money, and you've already extended the I guess you could call it the natural lifespan of your car.

To a certain extent, you can do that with people. Husband in his thirties, they find he has a bad heart. That it's wearing out faster than it should by a few decades..... Okay, replace it with a slightly used one, a refurbished one, from someone who no longer needs it. And there you go! Lifespan extended! But it's like being inside a train that is moving at the speed of Light. If you start running forward, from the back of the train, you're still not moving faster than the speed of Light. Even though it might FEEL as though you are.

That apparently was the problem with Collins. He thought he was moving faster..... A heart transplant can extend the natural Life of someone who would have died if their unhealthy heart was never replaced. But you can't put a young, healthy heart into a 90 year-old man and expect him to live SEVERAL decades longer. It just doesn't work that way. But it seems Collins truly believed that it could. Provided you replaced other organs as well. But how do you keep him from dying in the first place, just from going through the surgery?

I once saw a documentary I think it was, of a 90 year-old woman getting her elbow operated on because she had badly fractured it in numerous spots. They gave her an artificial elbow and elbow joint that was good for about 14 years. When asked about it, the doctor was realistic about how replacing those new parts would not be necessary. Though he put it much better than I just did.

So, could you live for four or five hundred years if you received a transplant of young and healthy body parts every few decades? I don't think so..... But I'm not a doctor and honestly don't know. When I asked the doctor what he thought of the idea, a frown came across his face. Followed by the word, "Absurd!" out of his mouth. Collins believed in it though, and did his best to make it happen.

The streets of every major, and minor, city is filled with teenaged runaways. (Well, it used to be anyway.) Back when the world was the World, Collins ran numerous charities and Out Reach programs for young runaways. And as I'm sure you guys can already guess, it wasn't out of the goodness of his heart. Whose going to notice when a homeless runaway is no longer around? Hell, probably drifted off to another place. Well, turns out no one notices when MOST of them are not around. Except for a few beat cops who actually give a damn about the kids. But what can they do, except bring their concerns about it to their superiors, who then forget all about it.

According to Albert, oh that's the name of Collins's personal assistant. Albert Trask. According to him, there was one mother in New Mexico who raised a fuss about her son. Al wasn't sure why the young man ran away. It seems Collins liked to keep detailed records. Al actually found the boy at one of their Boulder Colorado shelters. He was alive and more or less well. Al claims he wanted to return the boy to his mother. Easiest way to get her to stop making a fuss and go away.

Collins had a better idea..... The young man was dumped from a speeding SUV in front of a hospital in one of the seedy parts of Boulder. An autopsy found a massive amount of almost perfectly pure heroine in his system. The police wrote it up as another runaway who ODed. And case closed. The hysterical mother swore that her son never did drugs. Just alcohol once in awhile. She told reporters he had come out of the closet. His father suspected, but nothing definite. The boy ran away after his drunken father took the news far from well. The news reporters noted the large cracks in the walls of the boy's room.

But the police in Boulder, although they appeared to be sympathetic, noted that young runaways often develop drug addictions once they start living on the streets, unable to deal with just how harsh and cruel the streets can be. The mother continued to insist her son wasn't like that. But after awhile, the press moved on to other stories. Main thing for Collins was that she was no longer pressing the Boulder PD to find her son.

Al told us where we could find computerized records of everything Collins did. To his surprise, I insisted we go get them! Yeah!!! A road trip to a magical world known as New Jersey. Specifically, Newark..... Where folks go to score drugs. Or at least they used to. Yeah, the Rabs made that city slightly more dangerous than it used to be. But it was enough. Getting shot or stabbed is one thing. But at least the gang bangers, and the junkies didn't chomp down on your flesh and eat you. I guess that's the line!

I didn't want to put the guys in an awkward position. So I left with three others. One of whom was Mallard. I wanted to see what the punk kid was made of. Al helped out his cause by showing us a cache, well hidden, just a few miles from where Tent City burned to ashes. It was impressive. A crate of M4s. Well, CAR15s. Basically the same thing but semi-auto only. Carry handles in place. No forward vertical grips. Uncle Sam's boys get the real thing. The hired gun paramilitary outfit out of Spain gets "close enough."

Mostly though it was gear instead of weapons. There were two grenades in the cache. I told Mallard I found one. And I literally meant one. I hid the other one. Might come in useful. But the gear itself was inside what Al claimed to be a bullet-proof Humvee. All black. No slopping rear roof line. Just straight back with a 90 degree drop to make it look more like a traditional SUV. But there was a rear door back there, no lift gate (obviously).

Al explained that it was part of how Collins's father had made the family fortune. High-end executive protection . While the old man was content to offer bullet-proof vehicles and body guards, sonny-boy branched out into the less than high-end practices of providing very unprofessional men for private armies to whoever around the world who could afford it. Al actually said that professional mercenaries looked down on the men Collins provided. Yet he made sure his own paramilitary force was at least somewhat professional. Well gee, ain't that nice.

So the five of us took a trip to Newark. Armed to the teeth. Except for Al. He'd shoot his eye out with a squirt gun. And bopping along in a bullet-proof Hummer. So yeah..... Basically a normal trip to Newark before the super rabies infection. Ironically, the place wasn't knee deep in the infected. I'm guessing that in the early days, the heavily armed gangsters did a good job of keeping the Rabs out. They were there. Just not nearly as many as we expected. No uninfected though. But no surprise there.

The evidence was in a residential apartment in a hidden cavity in the wall. Handful of thumb drives. We took them, along with the few paper documents, and left. The other two guarded the front doors downstairs while Mallard, Al, and I went up. There was another quick stop over. This time, only paper documents. Had to fire a few shoots at the Rabs. But we were soon back at the fort.

By the time I finally finished up, and no; Joshua wasn't happy that I left without his permission, oh well! I pieced together a detailed profile of a damn lunatic. Back at the fort, I asked Al why Collins didn't just persue cloning technology. You know what he said?..... "Collins considered it to be Sci-fi nonsense."

I gave him a partially amused smirk. The kind Moe had given that pathetic excuse for a father that first day I saw Moe and Sergay from my hidden position. What bothered me was an incomplete file titled "Revival." Something about it seemed beyond wrong. Even far more so than everything else Al confessed to. I decided to have a talk with him.

But that never took place. Private Laver stabbed him to death with a homemade knife. Plastic toothbrush that he very patiently filed down to a point, on the concrete floor of his room and then kept on filing to get the point thin enough to be very effective. Wrapped the "handle" with a few extra adhesive Band-Aids that he somehow got a hold of. The kind that are a bit rough in texture on the outside. Made for a decent grip it seems.

Al got off lucky, and now I get to interrogate Laver either tomorrow or the next day. Oh boy! Sure am looking forward to the looks the nurse gives me after I'm done. Yeah that was sarcasm. Stick with me guys, I'll keep you updated..... or at the very least, entertained. I don't know whether to cry or laugh at the sad comedy that's been going on at the fort lately. Tune in next week for the Blueberry Pie eating competition. Which is gonna be tricky cause we have no blueberries.

Yeah, been awhile since I slept. Stay safe guys.

Monocrom · Oct 23, 2016

Hey guys, it's Mono again. Hoping you're all safe. Just a quick note about the CAR-15s. While Joshua still thinks it's a good idea to trade ammunition away to anyone who shows up, looking to deal with Sergay, at least this time he agreed with me that the CARs would not be used as trade items. Well they would. But only to Joshua's men who had the money or valuable items to give in exchange for them. I was a bit surprised to see Ray buy one of them. Even more surprised to see Jaime trade for one. Didn't think he had enough to trade for it. Still, Synnia was keeping very busy making leather goods for everyone in the fort.

There is actually a waiting list now of about a month for her goods. Goods..... not goodies. She gave me and the rest of the guys on the same team with her husband, preferential treatment. The waiting list for Moe, Ray, and myself was only two days. The heavy-duty leather sheath for my Busse Steel Heart II finally gave up the ghost. The new dark tan dangler style one she made me is also heavy-duty. While she was busy, I was training her husband and Ray how to shoot with them. One of the reference books I had was a training manual for the M-16. Honestly, not a huge difference with the new guns they had.

But they weren't the only ones I started training. Jordan is old enough, and needs to know how to protect herself. Joshua already trained Sara. But he's so busy now that he keeps putting off Jordan's training. He was happy to hear I was willing to take care of that. I bought a Browning Buckmark from Sergay. Not my first choice. But it was in the best condition of all the .22LR full-size semi-auto pistols he had for trade. Plus, he had an extra mag for it. The ammo cost quite a bit more. (Even with my "employee discount.") Then again .22LR ammo was always surprisingly expensive on the secondary market, when you found some; even a few years before the infection took hold. Jordan seemed indifferent to it. The training I mean. I told her how it was something she had to learn. She knew I was right. But still wasn't enthusiastic about it.

Well along with training the three of them, with Jordan separately, I also had to interrogate Laver. Who was now in the same large cage that a drunken Moe once spent time in. I decided to take a softer approach than I initially planned. I also didn't want to completely burn down the fences that I very slowly started mending with the nurse. Yeah, there were pragmatic reasons. I get injured or shot and she's going to be the one assisting the Doc in keeping me alive. But it was more than that. It still bothered me how I treated her that one time, and later got rewarded for it with eight silver dimes that mysteriously showed up. Still haven't figured out who did that. Though most likely candidate was Joshua. Wanting to keep his new Head of Security at the fort calm and happy. I still gave the nurse her cut, as promised. Still, didn't make up for my acting job and how I scared her. It just......

Sorry guys, guess I'm rambling. Anyway, I brought the nurse along. I decided a military approach was out. The nurse knew and used his first name. I did too. Soon, Private Laver was talking. He had seen what "General" Collins had done. His brutality and cruelty. Even to his own men when he believed they failed him. Very harsh punishments for the most minor of offenses. The big offenses though..... You had the very real danger of going from one of his men, to one of Ratty's guinea pigs to be experimented on yourself. That last one didn't happen often. But it seems it did happen. Much of what Private Laver told us was gossip and innuendo among the men. But one shocking incident involved Laver being present and on duty when it took place.

A small group of about four men were found and brought to be experimented on. Promises of food, a warm bed, and a safe shelter is all it took. The men had not done well after the infection. They lived in the city's sewer system. Always on the run. Always on the lookout for Rabs. They were spotted when they came up one day to scavenge for food. They looked worse than Homeless men do back when New York City wasn't infested with Rabs. Though I believe Laver mentioned they were from Chicago instead. Once inside that damn Bunker, Collins came out personally to greet them. Al wasn't with him that time. Laver said it was very odd.

The General very rarely left his luxurious accommodations inside the Bunker to speak to anyone. Al was his main go-between. But not on that occasion. Laver speculated that perhaps the General was curious as to how four men could survive together in a city infested with Rabs. Sure, they looked terrible. Hadn't bathed in months, were covered with lice. But they had survived where others did not.

Well, personally meeting Collins was the worst of it. Although the men had been cleaned up before meeting him, and given clean scrubs to wear; one of them vomited in front of Collins. Not good. Collins got angry! He demanded to know if the man was sick. The man replied he had been bitten by a rat, not a Rab, the day before. Well, Collins didn't believe him. He pulled out a .45 and gunned the man down in front of his buddies. They were horrified! Laver and three other men kept the survivors covered with their guns. The ones who were left, were led away. Three months later, Laver saw one of them. His body was missing limbs..... And a few other body parts. They put him into the incinerator. Turns out Ratty stopped by two hours later. Laver and another Private who had tossed the body into the incinerator were still on duty. He asked them about the body.....

"How long did it take before he expired?"

That was Ratty's question to both of them. Confused, they said he was obviously dead when they first arrived. Seems with a smile, Ratty told them that wasn't true. He had given one of the survivors a new drug he had developed. Laver wasn't sure how it worked. Though apparently the drug had kept the man alive despite the loss of all his limbs. And, as mentioned before, other body parts. Laver and the other Private were horrified at the realization of what they had done..... thinking it was just a dead body they had tossed into the incinerator. Not knowing what to do, they explained to Ratty what they had accidentally done. His reaction was the scariest one Laver had ever seen. He didn't get upset, he didn't get angry. It would have been better if he had.

No, Ratty just smiled as warmly as he could. He put his hands on their shoulders, and patted them. He told them it was alright. Told them not to worry. Told them that under the circumstances, it was just an honest mistake. Then he walked away. Laver wasn't sure what to do. He feared that the two of them would be severely punished for their mistake. But days soon turned into weeks, and neither of them was punished at all. Ratty had been honest when he told them not to worry about it.

Laver said that once he realized who the mystery soldier was, he decided to kill him. Said that Al was one of THEM. One of the guys in charge. One of the guys who could hand out punishments..... And that was all the justification he needed. He said the only thing he regretted was having to use a cheap plastic yellow toothbrush instead of his knife. He mentioned a large fixed-blade model from a company that's famous in Spanish speaking nations.

I couldn't blame Private Laver for what he had done. Not really. But I wish it had taken him a couple of days longer to finish his homemade shiv. At least until I could get answers out of Al. Both he and Ratty had died a bit too soon. Just a bit.....

As for Laver, it would be up to Joshua to decide his fate. Not being a fort resident, Joshua could pull out one of HIS .45s and gun him down too..... Justice and vengeance are both very swift nowadays. They have to be, most of the time.

Something happened just yesterday that makes my idea feasible. An idea that's been kicking in my head like a baby. Kicking harder as it grows and gets bigger. And now it's ready to come into the world. As terrible as it might be, it's almost ready. And daddy's gonna have to take responsibility for it and change its vicious little diaper. Joshua is not going to like this. It's gonna spit up and cry, and scream its little head off until it gets the attention it wants. And when it arrives, there's going to be blood and there's gonna be gore. Joshua is gonna hate this.

Yesterday, a pilot in a helicopter arrived. We quickly dragged his bird inside. Based on his skill set and the fact he has a helicopter, Neville Cortman became the newest member of the community at the fort. An older man with a surprisingly cheerful disposition. The only Brit in our community. And my horrendously awful little idea was so happy to meet him. It smiled at him. I could almost swear it did. So, I had to tell Joshua.....

And he hated it. And he refused to listen to anymore about it. But it wouldn't be ignored. Joshua eventually relented. He knew that as horrendous as it was, it was true. It had to be done. A few hours after he arrived, I told my idea to Cortman. He agreed to help. If the poor stupid bastard knew what was actually happening, he'd not only tell me to go to Hell but would try to send me there too.

Truth is guys, my little idea looks innocent..... I have to return to the Bunker. And now that we have a pilot and a helicopter, and two prisoners who know where it is..... Then that's exactly what I'm going to do! And it's not gonna be a humanitarian mission. I'm going to make them all pay.

Stay safe, stay alive. I know a massive bunker full of people who aren't going to be able to do that after a few more days.......

Monocrom · Oct 30, 2016

Hey guys, it's Mono. You all still alive out there? Yes, no, maybe, barely hanging on? Well, turns out that Cortman's foot made a liar out of me. No blood and gore this week. At least, not anything beyond the usual amount. Funny what you can get used to. I've had to get used to a lot of things. But then again, we all have. Ironically, I've had to get used to having a lot of real money on me. Mainly pre-1965 U.S. silver quarters and dimes. Heck of a thing to hold REAL money in your hands. I don't mean that funny looking pieces of toilet paper we all used to carry around in our wallets.

The idea behind it was nice. Not having to carry a bunch of silver or gold coins weighing down your pockets. But you used to be able to exchange those pretty pieces of paper for the real thing, on demand. Even said so on the paper. That all stopped quite a few years ago before the infection took hold. It's funny..... I always thought the world would end when people all over the world would nearly all at once realize that the pretty pieces of paper in their pockets was worthless. Was backed by nothing.

Try holding off a group of raiders with an empty gun. Click, click jack-ass! Ha ha!! Oops! Now imagine being genuinely surprised that didn't work. Yeah..... A gun backed up with no ammo, backed up by nothing. 'Bout as much sense, 'bout as useful as paper money backed up by nothing too. Eventually, people will notice. Not all at once. A few in one nation. Then many in that nation. Then riots in the streets. Then international news channels spread the word. Other citizens in other nations notice the same thing.

No offense guys, I love what America was back when the world was too. But those Europeans had pretty pieces of paper that made our paper look downright ugly. It's funny..... Nowadays people kill each other for a can of beets. They brutalize each other for a wool cap. Back before I met Kate. Before the Bunker, I saw one guy shoot another one. First he aimed at the guy's head. Then immediately reconsidered. Lowered his gun..... and shot him in the chest instead. I watched, hidden behind a tree as he took the guy's wool watch-cap.

Was the only thing he took. But he was a lot fatter than his victim. So I guess the cap WAS the only thing he could take. Couldn't shoot him in the head. Put a bullet hole in the cap, get it covered in blood and brains? No way! Got to protect the cap. Killed him just for that...... Then again, a can of beets has value. A wool hat has value. People used to kill each other for intrinsically worthless pieces of pretty paper. That's funny. When you could walk to your corner convenience store for much of what we all actually need, we had no reason to kill each other. Humanity being what it is, we had to at least have some sort of reason. I guess pretty paper is good enough. People kill people, and I don't know why. I'm not sure, but I suspect that last line is from a famous poem. Or at least a semi-famous one. Now, I know why. For food, for wool caps, for wool coats, for supplies and gear of all sorts. At least now the killings make sense.

I said all that to Jordan during our last range session. She understood. It was obvious she did. I think she got some of the braincells that Amy was supposed to, and perhaps a few that Sara was too. That's a horrible thing to say. But it's true. Though Amy is progressing nicely. She's not Slow. Just a little bit slower than other kids her age. She'll be fine. I still pick her up sometimes like she's younger. Can't help it. Never had a little girl of my own. She just leans her little head on my chest when I pick her up. Doesn't ever say anything though.

Training Jordan to shoot took less time than training Ray or Jaime. Even with the difference in guns. Though to be fair, M-16 based weapons aren't as idiot-simple to learn as AK based ones. I figure those two guys will be good in another week.

So maybe it was a good thing that Cortman's foot made a liar out of me this week. It isn't a huge thing. But that's the problem. Small things can easily become huge nowadays. Can't just put some over the counter anti-biotic cream on a bloody, burst blister; then just bandage it up. And if it does become a bit infected, oh well; just make a doctor's appointment and get a prescription for much stronger cream. Nope! Not anymore! We're back to the days where infection usually equals death.

Doc thankfully has the good stuff, and is treating Cortman's foot. It'll be just a few days longer. Private Laver will be going with us. I spoke to Joshua. Not only did he agree, begrudgingly, to pardon him for the murder but to let him join our community. And yes, you guys better believe I personally went and told the nurse the good news. Including the part I played to make it happen. (Yeah, how you like me now nurse?) I got her to smile at me as she went off to tell Laver the good news.

I didn't have the heart to tell her he was obviously an ex-con. Let's face it. You don't learn how to make a weapon, and put a decent grip on it, out of a cheap and blunt plastic toothbrush without having done time. But the amnesty came with a catch. Head back with us to the Bunker to show us where it was. The "Captain" agreed to help as well. But I don't trust him. I humiliated him. And if I was in his shoes, I'd want revenge. But I decided to take him with us as well. The rest of the guys will be going too.

Except for Jaime. Synnia has been feeling sick the last few days. She finally went to see Doc. Turns out, an early-pregnancy test he gave her came back positive! Congrats Jaime!..... For bringing a child into this screwed up world! Okay, a bit unfair. Kinda obvious those two never bothered with condoms because they're married, and because after her accident; the doctors swore there was no way in Hell she could ever get pregnant.

She's happy about it. He's ecstatic! He's already trying to pick out names for something that's currently the size of maybe a golf ball? Can't even tell yet if it's a boy or a girl. Well..... assuming anyone was still around who knew how those gender-telling machines worked. Oh heck, at this very moment, the golf ball isn't even a boy or a girl. Those body parts won't even develop for a awhile yet. So I pulled a few strings again. Got Joshua to agree that due to her handicap, Synnia was going to need constant looking after until after the baby was born. Who better to do that than her husband.

It also means no more going out on patrol for months now. Synnia was very grateful for that. Part of me expected her to start taking off her dress when I gave her the good news. That didn't happen though. Still, she made it clear that she was very grateful for what I had done for them. And that if there was anything I wanted, to not hesitate in asking for it. The way she said it though..... If I stopped by their home while Jaime was out and started kissing her, and ripping off her clothes; she wouldn't stop me. I hated the thought of it. Not the physical part. I can't deny she has something about her that attracts men to her. It goes beyond the pretty, exotic, looks and the very nice body. Just something indescribable. But if any of you guys saw her, you'd understand instantly what I mean.

The part that bothered me was the fact that not only wouldn't she stop me, she'd join in willingly too. She'd make me believe at that moment that she had real feelings for me. But I know that she'd just be repaying what she considered to be a debt. Synnia hates owing anyone anything. Just the type of person..... No, scratch that. The type of woman she is. Maybe that's the thing..... The fact that she can make you believe, completely. Even though you consciously know better......

We did have one more patrol with Jaime though. And no, he wasn't eaten by Rabs as we ran away and left him there. He was eaten by a crocodile. Okay, just kidding! I think my mood swings are getting worse. Oh well, I'm sure there used to be a pill for that. But not anymore. Any who..... We found a house that clearly burned down quite a few months ago while checking for places to search. Southeast of the fort. About 40 miles. Yeah, we have to search further from home, I mean the fort, than we used to. Thanks to the bullet-proof Hummer, it's not a chore.

We did find something though. Something that made me think of all those pretty pieces of paper that many of us used to sweat for, and sweat about. Twenty dollar bills, a few tens and fives. Though oddly, no singles. Moe found the first one. At first he thought it was covered in mud. He took a closer look BEFORE picking it up. Lucky for him, because the brown stuff turned out not to be mud. Yeah! It was the OTHER brown stuff. Moe was not happy. The rest of us laughed our butts off. A truly golden moment. Okay, maybe golden brown.

We left soon afterwards. But I noticed something the others didn't. The brown stuff was not dry. And it hasn't rained up here in over a week. Curiosity raised, I went back alone the next morning in one of the jeeps. Sure enough, I found it..... A hatch to an underground bomb shelter. And no, old Mono isn't dumb enough to just open the door and go in. I took a position far enough away on top of a hill so I could keep an eye on the burned out remains of the house and the hidden door to the shelter. Made sure to drive the Jeep to a spot in some nearby woods first, and hide it under some camo netting and a camo cover. Got out my binocs once I reached the top of that hill. It took a couple of hours, but soon I saw what I was expecting.

Sorry guys, but that one has to stay a secret. At least for now. Maybe I'll tell you about it in a later transmission. But, if you're still alive by then, I'll definitely share the news of the raid on the Bunker..... Assuming Cortman and the rest of us don't get shot out of the skies while approaching the Bunker in that Vietnam era helicopter Cortman restored. Yeah, the two guys have no clue if the Bunker has missile defensees. Oh well..... I'll update you guys in a few days if we live through this.

Take care. Stay safe.

Monocrom · Nov 6, 2016

What a week, what a week..... Hey! You guys out there? It's your good buddy Mono. Reporting live from KFUK Radio. So where to begin? Hell, I know what you guys are interested in. Cortman got better. My conscience did not. I decided to tell our cheerful Brit of my horrendous idea. Yeah, I know. Rather stupid of me. Obviously he'd tell me to "Sod Off!" once I finished telling him. But instead, he asked me why. When I gave him my reasons he asked me if revenge was part of it. I'll tell you what I told him.....

At first, I thought it was the main reason. But a good chunk of that died with Ratty. The rest.... I was visiting the girls. During one patrol, we found a couple of cases of popcorn. Fully popped and in bags. A rare treat. A bit stale. But surprisingly still good. Brand I've never heard of before. Red top and bottom with light grey in the middle of the bags. Picture of popcorn, instead of being able to see through the bag. Oh well who cares!! Hmm..... Sweet, sweet popcorn. The girls were very happy. Heck, all the children at the fort were. Sara and Jordan had their fill. I was alone with Amy when she cuddled up next to me and the bowl of popcorn. But she just sat there. Wouldn't reach over. I took a few and held them out to her. She opened her tiny mouth and I literally had her eating out of my hand. She caught me off guard with that one. I then took one piece at a time and slowly fed her that way. She was like a baby just getting started on mushy food. Put some food on the end of a small spoon. Slowly bring it towards the baby. Watch as it automatically opens its mouth because on a very basic level, it understands that it's food on the end of that spoon; and not poison or something inedible. She just knows.

Amy fell asleep next to me after awhile. I lifted her up and carried her to her bed. Tucked her in, gave her a little kiss on the top of her little head. When I turned around, I saw her mother at the doorway. She wanted to talk to me about Joshua's daughter. That seemed a bit odd..... mother referring to one of her's as just belonging to her husband. I indulged her as we went into another room. She was wearing a lovely dress. Not too form fitting. But yeah, I still couldn't help noticing her soft curves. My head started to hurt again. Before she had a chance to even say anything. I was trying to figure out whom she'd like to discuss.

Sara was in dedicated Mom setting. Nothing going to change that. It was clear who now came first in her life. If this beautiful pale creature with nice curves wanted me to get in between a mother and her adopted baby boy, my answer was going to be "Hell No." Jordan? I can't help the way she behaves towards me. And she needs lessons. Trigger squeeze while keeping the sights lined up is not as easy as people think it is. It's really not. And if she wants to cuddle up next to me on the couch like a little baby bunny rabbit, I'm not going to crush her little heart to fine powder by pushing her away. And Amy...... Little tiny, delicate Amy. If I feel like picking her up and feeding her popcorn and doing flashcards with her and kiss her on top of her little head..... Yeah, I'm doing it.

You intentionally let me get close to them. You knew I'd care about them. You encouraged them to see me as a father-figure. Then when you saw that I grew attached to them YOU..... You want to talk to me about one of them. Okay, maybe I should listen before blowing my stack at her. But the headache out of nowhere was getting worse. So I decided to cut to the chase.

"Which one? Sara, Jordan, Amy, or the one sleeping inside Synnia?"

Oh! That got a wide-eyed, pissed off reaction out of her. But she recovered quickly. Seemed surprised I knew. I told her it was obvious. Crippled young woman, never gonna walk again, told by doctors she can't ever have children because her reproductive organs were smashed up too badly. Married for at least a couple of years to a young healthy man who not doubt loves doing his incredibly gorgeous wife. She never gets pregnant despite the fact he never has to use condoms. Then, recently, she sleeps with someone else; and is now pregnant. So what's to know..... I told her it could be Jaime's baby or Joshua's.

That was when she stepped forward, and had her say..... It was Jaime's. Even if it turned out to be Joshua's, it was STILL Jaime's. It would always be Jaime's. Even if she was born (and yes, it's going to be a daughter) with blonde hair and gorgeous crystal blue eyes like Joshua's.... It was ALWAYS STILL going to be Jaime's.

I understood what she meant. Understood what she was getting at. Going back to Cortman, I told him I needed to protect the children here. All of them! I thought revenge played a part in my horrendous idea. But only recently did I realize myself that it didn't. I don't know what they'll do to the uninfected children. All I know is, because Ratty once told me, that none of the babies they took with them when they took me..... None survived. Ratty seemed very upset by that news back then. A slight glimmer of humanity? Part of me would like to believe that. Though my pragmatic side says he was upset because he ran out of guinea piglets to experiment on.

Cortman agreed to take us. Took two full days to get everything ready. We were lucky in that we had plenty of fuel for Cortman's old war bird. We'd have to stop and refuel. Likely more than once. But we brought the fuel with us. Space was at a premium. The "Captain" would stay behind after all. For this one mission, Laver took Jaime's spot. Ray didn't trust him with a gun, so he didn't get one. Mallard was dying of curiosity. But even if he was a skinny bastard instead of a fat one, we couldn't bring him. The bird was loaded down with the munitions we'd need to be sure we got the job done. It was also loaded down with fuel. Even a mild crash would result in instant death with every trace of our bodies literally burned away.

Oh yeah, and if the Bunker had anti-aircraft guns, we'd be scewed too. Laver turned out to be an excellent navigator. Turns out Cortman spoke Spanish. After awhile, that's how they communicated with each other. I didn't like it. I gave the others a certain look. Ray and Moe both understood what it was. Over a month ago, I had worked out a simple, easy to memorize set of non-verbal cues with the guys. Jaime was a big help with that. The guys now knew..... Anything funny happens, kill Laver. Wound Cortman. Not too badly though. Patch him up, force him to fly us home. Then he dies too. We have a little more fuel than needed for one roundtrip flight. So this is it. Our one shot.

And damn it all went wrong! First, some issue with the bird caused Cortman to land miles away from the spot we wanted to use as an LZ. Then Moe started vomiting all over the place. No clue why! He was really sick. Laver wanted to stay with Cortman and the bird. Yeah..... Screw that! Moe would stay. Laver still needed to show us exactly where the Bunker was. We still didn't give him a gun, but we gave him plenty of gear, including the munitions, to carry. Credit where due, Laver is an excellent pack mule. Soon we spotted it.

Didn't look like much from the outside. More like a giant brown ant mound than anything else. There was black smoke though coming out of one outside vent. Not much, but it was there. I asked Laver if that was normal. He said no. Said that vent only gets used at night so as to not attract unwanted attention from both Rabs, as well as other survivors. I told them we'd head inside after nightfall, quickly plant the charges, get the Hell out of there, and seal the only way in and out of the Bunker. (Yup! Another secret Ratty let slip out during one of his rare chatty moods from back in the Good 'Ol Days.)

Blow the door, seal it up, no one gets out. Not the mercenaries, not the evil scientists, not their victims who realistically are better off dead anyway. Not the maintenance crew, not the nurses, not the Lunch Lady (sorry Sloppy Joe), not anyone. And I know the explosions won't kill most of them. I'm realistic..... Trapping a massive group of people, with limited resources..... To eventually starve to death. Slowly, over weeks. That's what we were there to do. Once the Bunker was gone, every survivor especially the children, on the North East of America would be safe. Well okay, not from the Rabs. But you guys know what I mean.

We waited hours for the sun to set. Crawled over slowly and..... My head hurts again. It was a complete cluster fu..... It was gone. The shell of the Bunker was still there. But when we pried open the doors, everything was buried! What we could see further down was incinerated. And I mean completely. I asked Laver what happened. But he swore he didn't know.

Great!! Hey, mission accomplished!

It was all wrong. Time, resources..... All wasted. It's just a burned out shell now. We were about to leave when Laver mentioned they were having issues with storing the surveillance disks. (They're like CD-ROM disks only about half the size.) Laver mentioned he was part of a group of men on outside storage detail. Hidden metal boxes outside, stuffed with disks. A few even had disk readers. Small hand-held monitors designed for watching content on the disks.

We waited for daylight. We spread out. It took four hours, but we found all the ones Laver talked about. There were surprisingly few disks though. We grabbed them and a Monitor and headed back. That was yesterday. I'll be watching these disks. Grab me a couple of bags of popcorn that we still have left, and try to hopefully find out what the Hell happened!

I'll talk to you guys soon. Stay safe out there. Good news, Connecticut is safer than it used to be. You might still get eaten, but no more anal probing, no more all sorts of sick twisted sh..... No more of that at least.

Monocrom · Nov 14, 2016

Decided to unscramble this transmission. Not sure if I'm doing the right thing. Then again, not sure about how many of you guys are still alive. And this one is important. I'm not entirely sure what I've stumbled onto. Spent countless hours reading and watching the disks on the special monitor. Believe when I say you guys don't want to see much of what I've seen. Joshua joined me at first. So did Moe. Both dropped out soon afterwards. Joshua patted me on the shoulder and told me to have at it. Write up a short report when I was done. It took over a week to get through everything. Even with Joshua putting my other obligations on hold. That's why this transmission is a bit late.

Funny what sticks out at you. The place got overrun soon after Tent City went up. But those men had no clue. They lost communication with The Bunker, but figured it was just a radio or signal issue. No, it wasn't. From the surveillance cameras everywhere inside The Bunker, it was clear what took place. Someone got careless. They were storing Rabs to use as test subjects on the lower floors. I guess they needed a couple for an experiment or something. The three soldiers sent to bring a couple up, didn't close the gates properly. After they went up, the Rabs in storage got out. It was horrific! The bigger and stronger ones started eating the weaker ones. Now..... I'm watching this taped recording, and I'm thinking "Why the Hell wasn't the alarm raised in real time." Someone must have been monitoring the cameras. Right?? I guess not. Only thing that explains it. After a couple of hours, (Yeah, I sped up the footage) the Rabs who were left, stopped eating each other. The biggest and stronger ones headed for the stairs. Most were stopped there. But I watched, utterly amazed as some of them, about forty I'd say, climbed up the stairs! They shouldn't be capable of that! Yet, I saw it with my own two eyes. Not sure if they had been experimented on, or just always capable of that.

The door at the top soon gave way. That's when the real horror started..... I'd watch as soldiers fought and failed for their very survival. Ironically, most didn't run out of ammunition. They literally didn't have time to fire off every round they had before these massively large and strong Rabs pounced on them. For two straight days of pulling disks one after the other, I tracked this one soldier. A bit fatter and older than most of the men. I could clearly see and recognize his Busse Team Gemini with black scales and blackened blade. He was one of the few who did run out of ammo for his H&K MP5. Then he ran out for his Glock pistol. That's when the Busse came out. He did an incredible job fighting from room-to-room by himself. That's why I kept pulling one disk after another. I was tracking him from one room to the next, to the next one, to......

He finally ended up inside a broom closet. Locked himself in. No cameras in there. The Rabs clawed at the door for awhile. Then someone ran past the open door to the room with the closet in it. They just turned and went after that guy instead. I fast forwarded the disk. Waiting for the soldier to come out of the closet. The tapes all had time stamps. Just fast forwarding. Kept an eye on those time stamps. One full day went by in a few seconds. I had my eyes fixated on that door. It never moved. Never opened. I happened to look up after what felt like forever. Time stamp said twenty five days had elapsed. That's over three weeks. He didn't have a canteen, he didn't have a pack. No food, no water. He likely died in there of dehydration before he starved to death. He was maybe one of four people I'd say who wasn't torn apart or devoured by the Rabs. The others? Two shot themselves in the head. The last died while trying to burn his way past them. It didn't work. Though accidental setting yourself on fire wasn't the worst of it.

Did I mention The Bunker's cameras could also pick up sound? Yeah. Bad enough watching it all, but hearing it was worse. And some of those camera angles..... For half an hour, I watched two survivors, clearly civilian, trying to stay alive. The sister was about twenty one. The brother about sixteen or seventeen. They knelt down. The damn camera was just over his left shoulder. It looked as though she was talking to me with that point of view camera angle. I could see her quite clearly. She had a backpack. She asked him if he was alright. She took a bottle of water from her pack, and a clean rag. She gently cleaned off the blood from his face. Then smiled at him. Sara smiles the same way at little Bradford. I don't know why, but it feels like someone is holding a space heater on high, right up against my left ear. Meanwhile, I've got a battery-powered fan blowing on that side of my head. And for the last few days, I could swear that some obnoxious ghost is smoking cigarettes right next to me as I inhale a ton of second-hand smoke. Where was I? Oh yeah.....

She comforted him. Told him what she remembered about their mom. I think she died early. She said how he was a lot like her. A big sis taking care of her little brother. She said she had some food. It wasn't much, but it was something. I watched as she took out a small bag of popcorn from her pack. She gave some first to her brother. He barely said three words the whole time. Then she took some popcorn in her hand and started eating. Very slowly. She was clearly saving most of it for him. It bothered me seeing that. It was disturbing. And I can't explain why. I don't know why. Can't explain it. She then said they were in good shape. That Captain Ortiz had given them good directions. That they could get to the hidden emergency elevator soon. Just needed to get going. I started rooting for them. Who wouldn't. But then I heard her say the elevator overrode the regular one. That they could escape out the main entrance. You know..... The one we found completely blocked off. But then things got worse. She started telling him about their small supplies. The popcorn, couple of candy bars, plenty of water and their matches. She said her neck was hurting. She reached back there, and her fingers were bloody. She seemed surprised. He was speechless. She said, "I guess I wasn't as quick as I thought I was with that last one."

She told him to take the pack, the matches, everything; and just run. He didn't. She passed out a short time later. He just stayed put. When she turned, he did nothing to stop her. Nothing at all.

It took longer than expected but finally, I found out what happened. Also, a young soldier sacrificed himself to make sure none of the muscular Rabs got out. He used several grenades put through a long wooden dowel. One good yank on the dowel, and the grenades all lost their spoons at the same time. Not even a cockroach could escape from The Bunker now.

The paper documents were incomplete. One project after another. Oh, years ago, someone on YouTube put out an ASMR video of a fantasy zombie Apocalypse. I stumbled onto it by accident. What took place was a perfect copy of what the brother and sister went through. I remember because I hated how it ended. Talk about Life imitating Art. Why the Hell did I have to look through these disks?..... Because no one else would have the stomach for it. Hell, my stomach hasn't been working perfectly for awhile now either!

I wish I could tell you guys I found a smoking gun. A project that reveals how Collins paid for, and Ratty developed the Super Rabies virus. I want to! But I can't. That would be a dirty, dirty lie. Wanna hear something funny?..... I think Collins financed, and Ratty was working on a cure. Ain't that a hoot? Two sick twisted perverted bastards trying to cure the world. Well, not cure it. Ratty, according to a couple of the reports I read, was realistic. A vaccine for those not yet infected was a strong possibility. But a cure? Even regular rabies is impossible to cure when it starts eating away at a dog's brain. Still, a vaccine would help. Though still not much if a group of Rabs grabbed you and started eating you. But it would be a start. Guess I put an end to that.

If it makes you guys feel better, Ratty wasn't close to a vaccine. The most impressive thing he did was that drug that could keep people alive much longer after they lost their limbs, other body parts, and tons of blood. And no, you don't want to know how many human test subjects he went through before making that discovery. Some of his other experiments..... Too monstrous, too obscene to even give generalizations of. Ratty was even more of a monster than I knew. I thought he experimented on dozens of others. No, it was closer to two thousand. Men, women, and children. And what he did to them..... That beating was no where near what he deserved. No where near......

Just like his vaccine. Though I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a bit of initial progress. Maybe if Ratty had time and about two million test subjects, he could vaccinate what was left of humanity. Again, no help against being eaten alive by existing Rabs.

There was one incident during the past week requiring my attention at the fort. Hell, I took a break from watching to get a sandwich. Saw a group crowding around. Some angry shouts. Made my way to the front. I saw a couple of teens had snuck in a rather sickly looking Rab. (Even by Rab standards.) They swore they could make it dance. Had it chained around the neck with one of them holding it in place. Most of the shouts were of outage at what they did.

A couple of folks ran up to me when they saw me. I told them Mallard was in charge this week. But clearly I'd take care of it since he wasn't. As I drew my .9mm, the teen who wasn't holding up the Rab pleaded with me to wait.... Then, it turned out his buddy wasn't holding him either; as the chain slipped out of his hands. The pathetic thing lurched forward. I could have shot it in the head. But intentionally shot it in the pelvis. An old gunfighter's trick. Shattered pelvis means not being able to stand or walk. Great way to neutralize a dangerous man high on PCP or violently insane..... or horribly infected with Super Rabies. Down it went, unable to move.

I then turned my attention to the two OTHER pathetic things in front of me. I grabbed both of them, and shoved them to my right, while the Rab was a few feet to my left. As they both hit the ground, I turned my attention to the crowd. With the pistol at my side, I reminded everyone that the pathetic thing to my left, not the two pathetic things to my right, was a human-being. Not a zombie. Not some undead thing. But a badly infected human-being. Some turned away. But they all stayed. The two teens were at least smart enough not to get up. I pointed to the Rab. Damn..... it looked even more pathetic now. Mouth open, barely making a sound, arms outstretched. He looked like a tall, skinny child reaching out; begging to be picked up or at the least held by its mother. The crowd saw this. It was close to them, but couldn't get at them. Perfectly safe a few feet away, it slowly started to dawn on the crowd just what it was I was saying. Disturbed by the sight of the thing, more turned away. Though many turned back and took a good look. For some, it was the first really good look they had gotten in a long time. For some, the first good look they ever had of one. I could tell that the chain wrapped around its neck was now starting to bother the crowd. No one walked away though. They seemed to be waiting for something.

They were waiting for me to dismiss them. To let them know it was okay, and they could leave now. I saw Jordan in the crowd. She seemed curious than anything else. She had never seen one up close. I'm starting to wonder if she might have been born a psychopath. Not the type that comes at you while you shower, with a butcher knife in hand. I mean the textbook, clinical definition of a psychopath. The majority of which never kill anyone. They're just born the way they are. A psychopath will comfort a friend in need, not because they feel sympathy but because they know it is something expected of them to do, in such a situation. So they do it. I'm worried she might be one.

To drive the point home, I told the crowd that it is cruel to take physically and mentally ill individuals and treat them in such a manner. If they're violent too and try to attack you or others; fine, you have no choice. But don't think for a moment that they deserve to be made into entertainment. I then mentioned how some of them already understood that. But that I could see others did not get it. Hopefully now they did. I then dismissed the crowd. A quick shot to the head ended things. I then told the two idiots to take it outside, and bury it. They didn't want to. I told them if they complained again, I'd have them use their bare hands instead of shovels. And I meant it too. I found Mallard, and told him he was stuck guarding those two outside the walls while they buried it. He didn't like that job. But he knew he scewed up royally. The guards at the gate would be punished far more severely.

It wasn't the first time fort residents had snuck in a Rab. Either bribery or laziness were the reason. Last time, things didn't end so well. A day later, the two were stripped to their underwear and whipped with rawhide leather whips. Ironically, Synnia he made them by request from Joshua a couple of months earlier. It's an excellent punishment to instill discipline. No broken bones, no permanent physical injury. Except for a back full of scars as a constant reminder to the individual of how he scewed up, and to never do it again. But it's not as though he's crippled for Life afterwards. He's not. Also, you make others watch to let them know you're serious about discipline.

Make a Rab dance..... Those two idiots likely read "Dance of the Dead." One of the short stories in the back of the book "I Am Legend." Most don't know that popular novel is only a novella. One with a few short stories tacked on in the back of the book. One of them involves how certain zombies after World War 3 are able to be made to dance to the beat of certain types of music. Won't spoil it for you but at one point in the story, the zombie gets loose. Too bad those two idiots didn't remember that part.

Going to have to have a talk with Jordan about what she saw.

Stay safe guys..... If any of you are still alive.

Monocrom · Nov 26, 2016

Hey guys, it's Mono. You still with me? I hope so..... Sorry for a lack of communication last week. I didn't have much to report until after it was over. She did a good job on my arm. The nurse could have done a better one but I'm not complaining. Okay maybe a tiny bit..... maybe. After those two guards were whipped, one of them disappeared with all his supplies and any lightweight gear he could carry. But that took a few days. We found the two idiots who tried to make that Rab dance. The guard blamed them for his whipping. We buried their bodies. He had done quite a job on them, one at a time. Of course we went after him. Took Mallard with us in the Hummer. He didn't want to go. But was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

We found the former guard. The old guard was dead. Not sure from what. Took his body back as proof of having found him. Part of this entire mess was Mallard's fault. The only thing he got was a severe but verbal-only dressing down from Joshua. A slap on the wrist..... Actually, not even that much. A slap would at least have been a tiny physical punishment if we're being literal.

Still..... That outing was a piece of cake compared to what came next. There's an open grave outside, and it's going to get filled tomorrow. I already borrowed the Brew-master's Bible again. He gave me the same sad look that the nurse used to. Used to?? Hell, she sometimes still does. And I still have no clue why!.... Arm is starting to throb a bit again. Doc gave me some pills. No clue what they are. I'll take them soon. If I drop dead during this transmission, I guess we'll all know why. I don't even know why I'm smiling right now. Oh well....

Her name is an odd one. Yheveata. She's a mix of White, Hispanic, and just a dash of Asian. Not in the eyes though. She has big, beautiful black eyes. Some say there's no such thing. That they have to just be really really dark brown. I've seen them. They're black. And there's surprisingly a lot of life and hope behind them. Which is odd, considering what she does. She's actually 23 years old. But she ended up with a young face and a short height of only 5 feet, 2 inches tall. Yeah, she looks younger than she actually is. Other than being short in height, imagine a young woman being blessed with all the best physical features of all three races, with none of the negative ones. Now you should have a good idea of what she looks like.

As far as what she does..... She works in that place that doesn't exist. The one I've told you guys about. You know.... the non-existant place that's in the fort. The place we don't mention that I'm mentioning now. Yeah, her value to the fort is.... She's got a reputation for being literally willing to do anything with a John. And that includes John himself. Hell, she confirmed it afterwards..... Yet you see her outside THAT place, and she's warm and cheerful. Always with a smile on her face. She never approaches any of the married men too closely in public. Married women is a different story. Which is odd since she's known for playing for both teams. And there's real hope and life behind those eyes. She's not dead inside like some of the girls who work IN THERE. Even the ones not willing to do some of the things she does. Outside of that place, you'd never even guess some of the things she's done. She's not the oldest one there. But if you have the silver coins or something worth trading for, and none of the others are willing to engage in the sort of kink you like; she'll do it. And with a warm smile on her face.

So when she turned up missing one day, and all her stuff was still in her assigned tiny house; the woman who runs THAT place got worried. I suspect a good chunk of the men did too! Oh who am I kidding, quite a few women did as well!! Bunch of fricking...... So guess which team was assigned to go find her! Okay, if I'm honest; I wanted to find her. And no, I wasn't a client. Not her's, not any of them. I never got so lonely that I had to pay. But some guys aren't like that. Yeah, she enjoyed her job. Or at least did a damn fine job of always pretending to, from what I've heard. But outside of that place, she was genuinely sweet. Or at least did a damn fine job of.....

I like her. She never talked business outside of there. At times, one of the girls would run and fetch one of Joshua's men if a client started causing trouble. Twice, I was the one the girls would grab to help. One guy, I slapped around a bit. Another one ended up.... Well, I went a bit overboard that time. Only a little. I heard Yheveata negotiating with a different customer at one end of the hall. This guy was at the other end. He didn't get the business end of my Busse. Just the other end. I picked him up, carried his unconscious body outside, and tossed him into the dumpster kept out there. All while numerous beautiful women and somewhat younger girls in various states of undress; looked on. I think I scared some of them. But Yheveata still spoke to me whenever she saw me outside. And her smile was genuinely warm.

She dressed like a teenager and acted like one. Despite her real age. I don't know..... Maybe she was broken. If so, then likely before the infection hit. Everyone at the fort knew her reputation. Knew what she did. Some cared. But many others didn't. Very few treated her like..... So yeah, my team got the job of finding her or what happened to her. So, we set off. Joshua insisted we take Mallard with us again. Turns out, it made all the difference. Joshua knew I was not happy with this. You don't just toss in a newbie onto a team that works very well together and expect them to continue performing well. Ray was even more pissed than I was. Like I said, his goal is his survival and helping those who'll help him with that goal. Hell, not only was Ray unsure he could count on Mallard to watch his back but, if he thought Mallard was a liability; Ray would end him the way he did Moe's brother. And yes, it still bothers me that I have to pretend I don't know the truth whenever Moe and the rest of us enjoy a beer together. Not that I drink much. Ray seems to have come to terms with it. I can't..... Just like Kate.... I envy Jaime's ignorance of what took place. But back to the girl.....

As we were getting ready to leave, I could see Ray wasn't happy. That's not good for anyone around him. It wasn't just Mallard being forced on us. (Though that would resolve itself soon enough..... unfortunately.) It was going out and possibly risking our lives to find a kind-hearted "working girl." While Ray liked the ladies, she was too young and too into things he wasn't. And you know Jaime wasn't going to tell his wife about the details of this one. (Smart man.) Not sure what he likes, but apparently Synnia has no trouble keeping him happy. Moe cared about her the way I do.... A kind-hearted girl with a sweet disposition. It's hard to keep secrets at the fort. I'll just say Moe wasn't one of her customers and we'll leave it at that. Mallard ironically had the same view as Ray about possibly risking our lives over her. Finding her proved much easier than I thought though.

It was Jordan who pointed us in the right direction. Well, more like exact one. Her mother wanted to speak to me. I had that conversation with Jordan days earlier like I said I would. She seemed okay with what took place. Maybe that was the problem. But her mother wanted to talk. I didn't! I soon had the directions to an old abandoned carnival in upstate New York. Further up from where the fort was that is. She told me that Jordan was going to miss me.

I told her mother I'd be back soon thanks to Jordan's special ability. But she said that wasn't what her daughter had meant. Said it in a serious as well as a very sad tone. So much so that it bothered me. But I told her that monsters are hard to kill. My attempt at humor didn't work at all. She said "I'm sorry."

I nodded seriously, and left the room. I guess I really should have had her clarify what she was sorry about. Calling me a monster? That apparently I'd be dead soon? Well, still alive since I'm still transmitting! Screw sleep, who needs it?!

Told the guys I had a lead, and off we went. The carnival had been abandoned due to the infection. Most of it was overgrown but surprisingly in tact. As we drove in, I had a bad feeling that I'm sure the others shared. We were geared up. We parked near the ferris wheel. The place, despite being abandoned was WAY too quiet. Rabs make noise, and we didn't hear them. We also didn't hear the birds, the squirrels, the.... You get it. Just way too quiet. The place was big. Moe suggested we split up to cover more ground. Not a bad idea. But with Mallard with us, that meant odd teams. And no way in Hell I'm putting him with just one other guy so he can screw up again and get one of us killed. So that meant him and two others. The look Ray had in his eyes at the thought of being with Mallard on the same split team, also made it obvious how we were going to divide up. Ray and I on one team. Moe and Jaime with Mallard on the other. We came in through the main entrance on the South, and Ray and I headed back that way while the rest took the North section of the park. Meet back by the Hummer in one hour.

Ray and I found nothing. After the hour was up, we headed back. The others weren't there. We waited a while before going to look for them. That uneasy feeling came back. We both felt it. After another ten minutes, we found the Grand Stage. A place for live performances. The posters advertised "Tordonna The Terrific." A magician..... in an outfit that looked far from family friendly. Judging by the posted dates, looks like she didn't make it.

Opening the door to the backstage, someone else didn't make it either..... Her blonde hair made it clear she wasn't the one we were looking for. Then we heard the voices. An older man, and a girl. Also not the one. He was asking her about the dead blonde. He was angry. She replied in a sweet voice that she was sorry, but had to kill her since she "Didn't want to play." But the girl was clearly much older than she was trying to sound. When she said she had one more left, and three new ones; a chill ran through me. The man said that T-Boy and Rimmer wanted them dead. The older girl began to pout that she wanted to play. We then heard the other two voices out in the audience. They were not happy. A quick peak behind the curtain revealed the rest of our team tied up on stage. Along with the girl we WERE looking for. All in a row. Hands tied behind their backs. Gags in mouths. On their knees. I barely made out a small tactical folder in Moe's hands. He was slowly cutting himself loose. We listened a bit more. But there were only four voices.

The older girl was damn creepy. She told the four of them tied up on stage that she was a vampire. That she wanted a playmate for eternity. And she was happy to have a choice. But that only one of them would get her special gift of immortality. The other three would be food for her and her new playmate. All because "Daddy said so."

I quickly figured which one was "Daddy." The oldest of the three men, and the only one not looking ticked off at the B.S. happening on stage in front of them. Well, Ray and I were ticked off too! I guess all four of us weren't in the damn mood for all this nonsense!

Moe tried to speak. The rather fat and quite frankly ugly older girl, probably close to 22 in age, seemed curious as to what Moe was trying to say. She bent down closer. Then decided to take off his gag. One of the men in the audience shouted to her not to do it. He seemed annoyed instead of concerned. "Dammit girl, what you doing? He just going to lie to you."

Nope! Moe didn't say a word! He must have seen us peaking through the curtain. In one motion, he used his thin tactical folder to slit her fat throat as he shoved her off the stage with his other hand. The gurgling and thrashing lasted awhile. Daddy started screaming as Ray and I burst through the curtains and opened fire! We had no cover up on that stage. Moe rolled over and started cutting the others free while Ray and I rained down suppressive fire.

Once the others were free, we beat feet out of there. Hot on our heals, I gave Moe my .9mm handgun. Ray gave his to Jaime. Mallard could flap his wings and screw off for all I cared. It turned into a running gun battle back to the Hummer. I saw Ray nail Rimmer because the only one left who could be T-Boy shouted his name when he went down. Daddy nearly managed to ambush us by the bumper cars. But I saw him, and yanked Ray out of the line of fire before it was too late. Mallard had gotten a hold of Rimmer's shotgun somehow and was returning fire. Fat bastard nailed T-BOY! Daddy was so angry that he failed to ambush us that he ran out from the bumper cars to get us. When he tripped, Jaime, Moe, and Mallard unloaded on him. But he nailed Mallard in the torso with a shot from his pistol before he died.

Mallard was down! The rest of us were rushing for the bullet-proof Hummer in case there might be more of them. I didn't see Mallard go down initially. But Moe did. He went back for him. The kid was bleeding real bad! It looked terrible! I didn't think he was going to make it. An open grave and having to borrow the Brew-master's Bible flashed in my mind. Both of which came true.....

As Moe was about to reach us, a shot rang out. Moe was right next to me as his head completely exploded into pieces. I got hit with something. Later learned from Doc it as a piece of Moe's skull. My face covered in blood and gore, I couldn't see. Running the numbers later, it had to be Jaime and Ray who opened up on that cowardly sniper. There was one more after all. Coward with no name. No clue what he was firing. Most likely a .50 cal. since Moe literally no longer had a head. Someone grabbed Mallard from off the ground. Someone shoved me into the Hummer. Then it peeled off.

We had to leave Moe's body behind. There might have been more of them. Not much else to tell. The funeral tomorrow is not going to involve a truly full grave. They pulled out a piece of Moe's skull from my cheek. Another from my arm on the same side. Those are what will be buried tomorrow. I want to know what happened after we split up. But Moe needs to be buried first. The girl was grateful. You better believe I've got some questions for her. But yeah, Moe first.

When we got back, the nurse had a cold. Sara was the acting-nurse. Jordan was there helping her. Mallard was more badly injured. Sara helped Doc with him. Mallard's in stable condition. Ironically he'll be okay. Jordan bandaged my arm. Actually for someone with very little medical training, she actually did a great job.

Hope you guys are doing well. Staying safe..... Hopefully doing a better job of that than I did.

All things considered, I feel like a damn fool.

Monocrom · Dec 22, 2016

You guys still alive out there? You know it's Mono. Come on back.... Oh yeah, this thing's a radio. Sorry, my mistake. Sorry for the delay. A few unpleasant things have been happening over the last two weeks. Not sure why, but despite the cold and being upstate; no snowfall. Not yet anyway. That's odd. But in keeping with some of the things been happening lately.....

A couple of days after we got back, I wanted answers! If Moe was still alive he'd want some damn answers!! Mainly why the Hell he no longer had a head. That's not a joke! I'm still pissed!! Ray is also pissed. Jaime is a little upset too. I wish I had a drop-dead gorgeous wife with a large rack to keep me from getting too angry. Mallard..... Mallard has been real quiet his entire stay over at Doc's clinic. Just got released yesterday. The bullet they dug out of his gut was a .22 Long Rifle. Now one of those will kill you if you bleed out, or get hit in the head. But being fat helped. All that weight in his gut.... Well, all that fat acted like a thick cushion to greatly reduce the energy of the round. Damage done was more like getting hit with a BB gun. "Daddy's" gun looked impressive. But yeah, just a .22, and not a more impressive caliber. If it had been, who knows. Mallard would have dropped dead. Moe wouldn't have gone back for him. He'd still be alive. But that sniper was still there. I was by the door.

So maybe my skull would have exploded instead. You know what's weird? That very last part literally just occurred to me. Ain't that funny?..... I lost half my weapons too. Still got Kate's .38 in the ankle holster Synnia made for me. With the custom smooth grips Jaime made for me. Still got my Busse in the leather sheath Synnia made for me. Hey, a survival knife isn't just about making fuzz sticks or cutting longer lengths of paracord down to shorter ones to build a lean-to. No one likes to talk about it, but yeah; sometimes you need to use your survival knife to fight off predators. Both the four and two legged varieties. But no one likes to talk about that. If you recall, Moe had my .9mm. I was covering him..... At least I was trying to cover him with my Mini-14 in my hands when his skull exploded in my face. I dropped it as someone shoved me inside the Hummer.

I slept for hours after we got back and following Moe's pieces burial. When I woke up, I had black stitches up and down my left cheek. And on my upper left arm. For a second, I didn't know where I was. Took awhile to realize I was in my tiny house in the fort. I was not happy about that. I dressed and headed out to see Sergay. In this world, the way it is now, you replace your weapons as soon as you can when they are lost. It's just what you do. They're now vital necessities literally on the same level as food. Short-term, water and shelter battle it out for the number One spot. Food really can wait a bit. But long-term..... It's about staying alive. Something very chilling happened on the way to the warehouse.

No, it wasn't the sad looks everyone was giving me. It's as though the nurse had an infection as sinister as the super rabies. She gave it to Joshua's wife, then the Brew-master, then..... I could feel their eyes on me. They didn't blame me for Moe's death. Hell, most of them didn't even know him or cared he was gone. If I told them his real name was "Moe," the fools would honestly believe me. You know it's funny. I don't think I ever once mentioned his real name. Like I said, the sad looks in my direction weren't the thing. No....

It was an unexpected greeting. Someone I barely saw. Not even sure he was real. He walked by me, several feet away. Told me it was good seeing me up and around.

"Take it easy, Tiger."

That last word. Dammit! And I was genuinely starting to like this place. I really was. I was even seriously this time considering donating this radio to the community. Turns out our older British friend with the helicopter is also a very accomplished Ham Radio operator. With fuel in his bird very low, it's not going anywhere. I don't want to see him get kicked out. From what I've seen, he's a good guy. But getting back to that last word. I never told anyone this, but Kate used to call me that all the time. I don't know why. But she did. I never told anyone at the fort either! Now this random resident calls me that?! Oh, he slipped up!! But now I'm forced to wonder who else is in on it. The nurse? Maybe. Perhaps she feels sorry for me. Feels guilty for being in on it. Who else? The girls? No, not likely. Maybe Sara? No, even she's not old enough.

Girls like to talk. They love to gossip and spread rumors. I would have heard something by now. John? Well, there was his odd stance on the new rule about random house searches. A golden opportunity to rail against Joshua. Earn points among the others he could use to run against Joshua as new community leader when the elections come due. But he chose to support it. Why? Makes no sense. Is he part of it? Are you guys part of it? I don't know enough about this ridiculously overly complicated military radio to know if it truly is broadcasting, or if my messages are going out to one location where they're being recorded.

Did the little peon in the room monitoring this transmission just crap his pants at what I just said? If he did, you can relax. Like I said, I'm not sure. And I'm not about to start blasting random fort residents without something much more concrete than just a feeling based on one word.

Having said that.... You better hope and pray I don't find that something. Otherwise, you're not going to believe what I'm capable of. And how far I'm willing to go. You saw what I did to Ratty. Let's leave it at that.

About the only thing I am sure of is that the guys aren't in on it. You don't go through what we went through at that damn carnival if you're in on it. It's good to know whom you can trust. That also goes for Yheveata. Speaking of which, I went to see her right after Sergay. But business first! I had learned that of the four CAR-15s my team had found, remember that Jaime and Ray had each gotten their hands on one, none were left. Jaime had wisely chosen to buy the third one since losing his to that weird gang of thugs at the carnival. One left. And Cortman bought it. I had trouble picturing our lone Brit with such an incredibly American weapon. Then again, his pistol of choice was a seven and a half inch barreled Ruger Blackhawk Convertible. A Single-Action Old West style revolver. The convertible stands for the cylinder. You get two you can swap out. One chambered in .9mm and the other in .357 Magnum. Meaning that cylinder will also fire .38 Specials. In this world, a handy weapon to have. Cortman once mentioned that it's been months since he used the magnum cylinder. With .9mm being much easier nowadays to find. He wears it on his hip in a nice leather holster.

This left me with a problem.... One I nearly forgot about after seeing Rimmer's shotgun at the warehouse! Last I saw it, Mallard had it after taking it off of his dead body. Even after getting shot in the guts, Mallard refused to let go of it. Moe dragged him and the shotgun along. I guess he still held onto it after he was loaded onto the Hummer. I asked Sergay about it.

"He wants nothing to do with guns anymore. He has a bit of a green thumb, and has volunteered to work exclusively on the various garden projects going on outside. Being protected by other men with guns. Him, and the other farming workers who only carry garden tools. Joshua told him he could keep this shotgun, but the boy traded it to me for a Seiko watch with an automatic movement inside. No batteries to change. Good luck finding those."

Part of me couldn't blame him. Still, one day that decision will come back to haunt him. Onto business. The shotgun was a Maverick 88. Think Mossberg 590 but with different chamber parts and a price-tag nearly half as much as a 590. Sad to say, but Rimmer's shotgun was the best one, in terms of condition, that Sergay had. Shotguns are very popular among the residents and as trade items with anyone stopping by. The better-condition ones rarely last on the shelves. I bought it. All black with a Coyote Brown pistol grip. Attached to it, above, is the same type of collapsible stock you'd normally find on a CAR-15. Also Coyote Brown. (I guess Rimmer or somebody replaced the stock & grip assembly with an aftermarket one. Couldn't find black so they went with the most available color.)

But this one will live in my personal shelter, here. I looked further and was surprised by just how few ,223 Remington chambered guns were available. I must admit, I stopped looking the first time around when I found that gorgeous Mini-14. Sergay could see I was disappointed. He told me he wasn't sure I'd like it, but that very recently something else had come in. It was from a Beretta dealer who still had a few guns. But he did trade away three and a few magazines, in exchange for emergency food bars and several MREs. Not my first choice for both, but Sergay knew I would be stopping by soon for both a new pistol and a carbine-length rifle. So he took a shot on the combo deal.

One of the Berettas was a full-sized 92F. Nice but not my thing. Next came the combo.... Two guns that took the very same magazine and thus caliber. Such things made sense back in the Old West when black powder was common. A lever rifle chambered in .44-40 along with a single-action revolver in .44-40 was a nice combo. But such ideas don't work too well nowadays since the rifle is going to be chambered for a pistol cartridge. But something in Sergay's eyes told me he really wanted me to take a look. Flat out turning him down would have really hurt his feeling. Why did I care about that? I guess I'm too sentimental. Even if it is Sergay.

A Beretta CX4 Storm in .9mm (probably more futuristic looking than even a first generation, stock M-16). Not a bad carbine. But with a reputation for kicking you in the shoulder like a mule on every shot. Next came a Beretta PX4 Storm, full-sized .9mm pistol. I had to smile when I saw the color combination of this one. A black upper, including the slide with (you guessed it) a Coyote Brown rest-of-the-gun. I think Sergay mistook my smile of amusement for one of satisfaction instead. I let him keep believing that by buying the combo. It made my choice easy when Sergay demonstrated something to me that the Beretta dealer had shown him.... The magazines for both weapons were fully compatible. Take the mag out of one, insert it into the other gun; and keep shooting. So, not just caliber compatible. But magazine compatible too. Very nice! The dealer had traded away numerous magazines too. I bought all eight of the ones that fit both guns. But that left me with a buttload of .223 ammo and no gun for it. I spotted a Ruger model 77 in that caliber. The wooden stock was beat up a bit. But not too bad. Plus it had a nice scope on it. My first bolt-action rifle. Oh well, not like I'm going to run out of ammo for it anytime soon.

So after my incredible shopping spree in which Sergay gave me an incredibly good deal. (Later learning that Joshua had a talk with him earlier, and had arranged for a special discount.) I went to see Yheveata. But not completely blind. I asked Sergay if perhaps he had seen anyone matching the descriptions of the men we shot it out with. Including that ugly fat cow of a girl. Sergay said he did. He remembered the cow. She was speaking with Yheveata while he and "daddy" were making the deal. He didn't recall seeing the younger black man, T-Boy. He barely recalled Rimmer. But did remember the man's shotgun which I now own. He offered to trade for it. But Rimmer acted a bit offended at the very notion of trading it away. There was a fourth man in their group. Very quiet. Wore a black baseball cap and mirrored shades. He didn't speak. Just stood with the others. I took the two berettas. The carbine has a nylon sling attached. Shoved the handgun into my back with the belt applying pressure to hold it into place. One magazine in each. Bought more .9mm ammo too. Told Sergay I'd pick up the rest of my stuff in a couple of hours. Normally Sergay won't hold stuff he's traded away. But he made an exception in my case.

I must have been quite a sight when I walked in. Armed to the teeth, scary black stitches on my face. Most likely an angry and murderous look on it too. I told the Madam of that non-existent place to call Yheveata down. That it was important and had nothing to do with literally screwing around.

Hold on guys. This thing's acting up. I'm going to switch it off and then switch it back on. So technically two transmissions this time. Yup, two. Hold on..............

Monocrom · Dec 22, 2016

........... And I'm back. Yheveata came down. Rather quickly as the Madam was dragging her down. Normally guns aren't allowed in that place. But let's be honest. Who the Hell is going to tell me I have to leave?! The Madam saw me walk in the front door, she knew it was something very serious. They know me, they know my reputation. They know I don't pay for a lady's company. That I don't partake in the goods they offer. Not even the new service they provide. In that one room..... in the very back..... that everyone knows about. Honestly, Danny might have a nicer smile than Yheveata. Say what you will about him, he does have a nice smile.

She came down so quickly she hadn't finished buttoning up the shirt she was wearing. Must be hard to button up a shirt as someone is dragging you along by one arm. Oh well....

She had on red gym shorts, and nothing else. She seemed very nervous. We went outside by the dumpster to talk. I wanted answers! And I sure as Hell already paid for them. Though Moe paid a helluva lot more than I did. She confirmed what Sergay said. I put two and two together. She confirmed that as well. She was just outside the gates when "daddy" and his group came to trade. Sergay always has at least two armed escorts with him. Likely why they didn't try anything. She said that the cow (though that's not the word she used) said "Hello" to her. And the two struck up a quick conversation. She mentioned the other men barely noticed. Though she did catch Rimmer looking at her cleavage once or twice. She didn't mind, she's used to that sort of thing. Back to the conversation, the girls hit it off.

As stupid as it sounds, the cow invited her to their carnival. She said the rides were working (they weren't) and that they could have a bit of fun (they didn't). We didn't either! So one day, she just walked out the gate! Further down the road, they picked her up in an older Chevy Suburban. Took her to their home at the carnival. Now you'd think someone who's 23 years-old and works in that profession, would be smart enough to know better! There are little kids out there who are 8 years-old who know better because their parents taught them not to go off with fricking strangers!!!

I was beyond furious. Hate admitting this, but for just a split-second I wanted to put a bullet in her skull with my new .9mm handgun. Just grab it, pull it out, and blast her. All within a literal blink of the eye. But then, she did something all women do that instantly causes a guy to forget his anger. (Most guys, most of the time.) You guys know what it is..... She started to cry. And I don't mean a couple of tears. She was sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. Dammit! Why do they have to do that? She started blubbering about how sorry she was for everything that took place afterwards. Me getting injured, Moe brutally getting killed, Mallard nearly dying, Ray barely dodging a shotgun blast from one of them. (Don't remember that. Must have been before Mallard got his hands on my 88, which back then was Rimmer's.) The crying and shaking got worse. She put her hands up to her face, covering it completely. I took my carbine off my back. Leaned it up against the dumpster. Forgot about my new pistol.

Took a step forward, gently lowered her arms from her face. Her make-up was a complete mess. She cried enough tears to drown a giraffe. Eyes more blood-red than that of a Rab. Poor, stupid, kind hearted creature. I put my arms around her and just held her. It made her cry even more! What the Hell?!?! Women should really come with an instruction manual. This damn overly complicated radio is easier to figure out! She got weak in the legs and started to lose her balance. I was literally the only thing holding her up! I was instantly reminded of that very unpleasant encounter with Synnia in front of Joshua's house. You guys would not believe how long it took me to calm her down. She ended up leaving for the day. Something she's never done before. Before I left, I told her to stay away from Ray and from Synnia. I can just imagine what Ray would do if he ever find out she wasn't brutally and forcibly kidnapped. But instead, went willingly. Not good!

"Hey Ray, you risked your life for a stupid little girl who is actually old enough to know better!"

Oh yeah! Grab some popcorn and let's watch what happens next! And join us later on when a bunch of disgustingly perverted local residents get some very sad news. Join us after the break for weather with Chip Haudouchebagg. How's the weather look out there, Chip?

As for Synnia, she's dedicated to Jaime. I think she'd go off worse on the girl than Ray. Ray would just put a slug in her. Screw being in a wheelchair, Synnia would brutalize her for nearly getting her husband killed. She practically lives for him. I don't even think she'd get out of bed in the morning if it wasn't for him. Something reinforced when I went to visit them. He wasn't there. But apparently he had told her everything. Though it was clear he left out who the girl is and what she does. (Smart man!) I needed a new holster for my new pistol. Seems Ray's old holster gave up the ghost. She said she was nearly done with his, and that my new request was next. No charge either! She said it was the least she could do for the two men who got her husband out of there. She kept smiling at me as I sat in a chair while facing her. At one point she put her hand on my upper leg. Very close to..... She knew what she was doing, but pretended rather well I might add; to not notice. Part of me wished my black cargo pants were made from a thinner material. I'm not gonna lie....

I asked her if Jaime told her about the circumstances of how the guys got caught. She said they were walking past a section of carnival game booths. All closed up. Booths on either side. When the rollers came up on two booths from either side. A shotgun on one side, an automatic rifle on the other. Then, one man emerged from behind one of the booths they walked past. While another emerged from one they hadn't reached yet. (A very clever trap. Effective too. A kill box, basically. Surrender or get gunned down from four different directions at once.) They took their weapons, and took them to the stage. You guys know the rest. Along with a new CAR-15, Jaime got himself a Smith & Wesson model 19. He lucked out. Sergay happened to have one in decent condition with a two and a half inch barrel. Synnia mentioned that it really bothered him, losing that Windicator revolver of his.....

Yeah, I know the feeling. She added that she was glad Ray and I were there. And that she was sorry about Payton. Yeah...... I know the feeling.

I bumped into Ray after going to the Bar. Hell, I just wanted a drink. He was there, still angry. Well, along the way to the Bar, I stopped in at Joshua's tent. I told him in no uncertain terms that this team was falling apart. One, Moe is dead, Ray is so pissed off that he's liable to snap and I wouldn't blame him, and that Mallard just wanted to be a farmer. As for me, I don't exactly need this job. Plus, I told him from the start I work better alone. The only one handling this well at all is Jaime, and that's because he has Synnia to take his mind off of everything. I wanted more answers. I was expecting a ton of resistance on his part. Nope!

I got them. Answers. Ask and fricking Hell, sometimes ye do receive! He pulled me aside, in private. Telling me that he had a good friend once. Well, this good friend saved his Life one day. Pulled his butt out of an overturned truck that caught on fire. A few years later, the friend died of an undiagnosed disease. Died too young. Not before seeing his little girl be born into the world the way it was. He admitted that he lost touch with her. Then was horrified to find out she was here, in the fort. As one of the working girls. WANNA GUESS WHICH ONE? Joshua felt he owed his friend. But he was glad his friend wasn't around to see what she had become. The thought sickened him. Can't blame him. He never told her that he and her daddy were good friends. Nor that he tried to look out for her. And he also felt horrible about what happened to Moe. When I asked him about Mallard, Joshua became pale. He said Mallard was the son of a different good friend. I didn't believe him. He was telling the truth about Yheveata. But was lying about Mallard. I could go and simply ask Mallard's dad if that weak story is true. But I know I don't have to. That one was a lie. Oh well, he's happy as a farmer now. No more team outings. Hell, maybe no more team.

I told Joshua what I wanted to do. He said "No." That the men in the carnival were no threat to them. That in fact, all of them were dead with the slight possibility that one was still alive. But Ray had told him that they had nailed him. Good old Ray..... Possibly lying because he doesn't want to go back up there and needlessly put his life at risk, AGAIN!! Can't blame him.

So after getting the rest of my gear from the warehouse and bringing the 77 and the 88 back here, I loaded up the eight magazines for my Berettas, and came back to grab the Hummer. I was bound and determined to finish this! When I bumped into Sara holding her adopted baby boy. She asked me to come back to their house. I told her I was too busy. But she practically begged me. She went off to do something after I agreed. Walking to the house, I got more looks. But these were far closer to looks of fear than looks of pity. I can tell you that much.

When I walked in, Jordan and her mother met me by the couch. Once again, I put my carbine down. Jordan hugged me, and began crying. She begged me not to go! Her mother stood there as I hugged the poor thing back. Her mother told me that they needed me here, at the fort. That all of them did. When I asked her why, she told me that the real monsters were here. I looked at Jordan. Once again, she told me she was going to miss me. Before I could find out what she meant, I hear the sound of several cars blowing their horns outside the gates.

Okay, so the monsters were here. Time to brutally gun down everyone on the other side of the gate! Kinda wish I hadn't have left my new shotgun at my other home. Oh well....

What took place is still too difficult for me to talk about. Give me a few days guys. Plus, there's still quite a lot for me to do until then. Obviously, old Mono didn't get brutally gunned down outside the gate. So that's good at least. besides, the battery on this radio is nearly dead. Recharging seems to take longer and longer each time.

Don't worry. Whether you guys are in on it or not, I'll brief you soon. If you're not, try to stay safe out there. If you are..... I hope Skittles does manage to grow 50 feet tall and devour each of you..... very slowly..... very painfully. But I'll give you guys the benefit of the doubt..... For now.

Monocrom · Jan 5, 2017

Happy belated New Year! And belated Christmas too! Sorry guys. Not sure if I'm apologizing to men, Rabs, or ghosts. Hopefully the first one. I was getting static from one frequency based in Australia. Just one. But it went completely dead a few days ago. I think we lost Australia. But I guess I'm ready to tell you guys what happened.... along with the aftermath. Just returned from the fort a little while ago. Lots of blood was spilled. Lots of mayhem. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

As I approached the gate, armed as I was, I saw eyes looking my way. Just a whole bunch of sad glances. It wasn't sadness. It was shame. All the way down to the nurse herself. She was first. As I slowly walked towards the sound of the car horns, a few things happened. I thought of my very slowly deteriorating eye-sight. Not going blind. But right before this happened I was given the news by a retina specialist that I needed surgery again. This time on my other eye. It's one thing when your eye fills up inside from a burst blood vessel and you literally can't see out of it. That's needed surgery. And when you come out of it and give it time to heal, you realize everything out of that eye is just a bit distorted. A very tiny bit. You can still see out of it. But you need both eyes to drive.

Another thing when vision in your other eye just gets a bit blurry. To the point you can't read tiny newsprint without reading glasses easily found at any bookstore. But you live with it. You can still drive, you can still watch TV. Okay, forget about movies with subtitles. But you can still read. And then the specialist tells you during a much quicker than usual exam that you need surgery on the other eye. And he just talks to you like you're at a Deli ordering a sandwich.

"Okay, so that's ham and Swiss on rye with a side of slaw. And we can get you into surgery in February. Though January might be better. It can wait just a bit. But I'll get the nurse to draw up the paperwork for you to sign today. Have a good one"

Then you wait back in the waiting room. And you realize it's not a caring doctor's office. None of them are. Or, I guess "were" would be appropriate. You sit there, scared to death because you know none of your friends care enough to take off from work to help you. Since you need to bring someone with you day of the surgery. They won't do the surgery unless you do. And you're an only child, with elderly parents who can't take more than fifty steps, even with a walker, before needing to sit down.

You sit there in that office while an old woman laughs at a stupid joke she made up. One of the nurses yells "INSURANCE!" across the room. You realize, you're a piece of meat to them. A skin-bag full of organs with a dollar-sign printed on it. It's not a deli. It's a meat processing plant. The nurse calls you over to sign documents. You can't even read what you're signing because they forgot or don't care that they dilated your eyes half an hour ago, and you can't see sh..... But you sign because you're just numb to it all. You remind her you can't pick a date today. she very "helpfully" tells you to hurry up because the doctor's slots fill up fast and he only does surgery two days out of the month.

Your vision will likely be a bit messed up because now both of your eyes don't quite see well. Finally, your first one that had surgery still every now and then gets a burst blood vessel that means you can't see out of it for about two weeks until the blood very slowly clears up. Surgery now means risking temporary blindness that lasts about two weeks and can reoccur literally at any time. Rather than making me angry, I felt sad and just utterly defeated. But I didn't show it on the outside. Just kept walking towards the gate. I decided to refuse the surgery. A week later, the first reported incident of a Rab attack was reported....

It was Mallard who snapped me out of it. He came up and said something. I nodded and kept walking towards the gate. I saw someone tug on his arm from out the corner of my (somewhat) good eye. They wanted to know what Mallard said to me. I could hear him spill the beans. How about that! My hearing is just fantastic! Now you know the main reason I prefer sleeping at this place instead of the fort. When you're underground, noise doesn't travel deep. I could feel them all behind me. It felt like the entire fort was back there. Following me. I saw Cortman to my right. Hand on the butt of his holstered Ruger single-action revolver. He kept good pace with me.

"Might be trouble at the gates. Stay close."

He simply nodded. Something was way the Hell wrong. And I don't mean with my eye-sight.

"You seen Ray or Jaime about?"

He replied with a shake of his head for Ray. A simple "With his wife." was his reply concerning Jaime.

I kept walking.... I saw Joshua join them. He didn't try to hide from me. And yes dear friends, I knew it was going to be bad when I realized Sergay was not front and center heading to those gates. He was nowhere to be found. Sergay loves trading. He lives for it. He should have been ahead of me. He should have met me at the gate with his two or three bodyguards. But he wasn't there. They weren't there.

I opened the gates and stepped out. Four cars parked next to each other. Plenty of space between them. Something else I noticed.... No children. No elderly. No women except one. Dark features, nice body and a beautiful face. Okay, in fairness there was another one there. Big, ugly, very muscular, and could easily pass for a man except for the slight make-up she wore on her face. All I saw were guns on their hips. No hunting rifles or any rifles at all. Okay, the ugly one had what looked to be an air-rifle in her hands. The pretty one was wearing heels! Fricking heels!!

Okay.... Now I was mad! They were insulting my intelligence. Whoever they were.

Their leader was a man named Robert Clarks. He introduced himself and stepped forward to shake my hand. (More of an insult!) I told him I don't shake hands. Against my religion. I asked what he wanted. He said he just wanted to stop by and check the place out. One more insult, and I was going to shoot him in the gut with my pistol. Come on, Clarks. Just one more....

I told him I was guessing he heard about the trading post. Told him Sergay should be out soon to trade with him. He said that was correct. (Lucky jerk!) I then told him that we have a policy of not trading away ammo. We'll trade for it. But not trade it away. His smile returned and he said that was fine. Said they were here to trade for something else. I waited, but Joshua didn't step in to correct me. Okay.... I'll play along. Wait for the carnage to begin. And I'm going to be starting it. Joshua's family says these people are monsters. Okay, good enough. I sure as Hell don't need my reading glasses to focus down the sights of my guns.

As Clarks and I talked, he introduced me to the pretty one. I don't remember her name. Doesn't matter. She didn't matter. Her kind will let you call them whatever it is you want. Let's call her "Meat." Yeah, that's her name. Fits fine. Describes her perfectly. She flirted with me a bit. I said it was nice to meet her.

"Hey Clarks. You going to introduce me to your other lady-friend? I like what I see over there."

His smile vanished in an instant. Took him a moment to recover. "Meat" looked downright confused. You should have seen the surprised look on the ugly one's face. I bet no one ever treated her like a pretty pony before. Hey, she was the one wearing make-up too. She put the air-rifle down on the hood of one of the cars and walked over towards Clarks. I then realized it was a tranquilizer gun. Like the kind used on zoo animals who get loose and wander around for a bit of fresh air. The smile was back. "Meat" had enough sense to step away as Clarks introduced me to the ugly one.

While all three of us made conversation and I blatantly flirted with this one. I saw two things. The raging jealousy "Meat" had printed on her face. And that the crowd behind me was very slowly retreating back behind the open gates. I glanced up towards the watch tower very quickly. The guy on duty wasn't aiming down onto the strangers as was customary. His rifle was resting on his shoulder. I caught a glimpse of Cortman out the corner of my eye. While still keeping an eye on Clarks and the ugly one in front of me, I shouted at Cortman.

"Hey Cortman! I thought you were better than that. Guess I gave you too much credit."

All he said was, "Sorry old chap." Funny thing was, he said it in a way that didn't sound sarcastic. Sounded as though he meant it. I turned towards Clarks. I smiled at him. He smiled even bigger. I said....

"You know, I sometimes wonder which world makes more sense. This one, or the way it was. But either way, I think we can all agree.... It sure is a funny old world."

I started laughing. Clarks kept smiling. Unsure of himself. When the ugly one started laughing, he did as well. Pretty soon all of them were. Truth is, I was waiting for something. And when those gates slammed shut. While these monsters were still laughing... I pulled out my pistol and put one in Clarks' gut. That shut him up!

Okay, no. He only stopped laughing. Falling to the ground and screaming his head off. Before anyone had a chance to react, I put a round right in the ugly one's skull. Hey! I don't discriminate! You wanna act like a man? I'll damn well treat you like one!! All Hell then broke loose as my delaying tactic wasn't just about the gates. See.... Mallard told me that a group of about twenty Rabs were spotted coming towards the fort. And those lovely creatures showed up at no better point in time than just after I let off my second shot!

So out came the handguns from the real monsters, while I holstered one Beretta, and grabbed the other! I took cover behind the engine block of the right-most vehicle and opened up along with the others. But while they were aiming at the Rabs, I was aiming at their backs! (Hell, how do you think I survived while that badly outnumbered?) One of them soon realized what I was doing. He turned around and was aiming in my direction, when "Meat" who had tossed off her heels already, jerked the guy's arm up as he let off a skyward shot.

"No!! We need him alive! Get the tranq gun!"

Oh! So "Meat" is the one actually in charge. Okay!.... I'm still calling her "Meat." Changes nothing! But I soon realized that the car I was using for cover, was still running. You know what? Screw most of them inside the fort! But Not the children. And certainly not Joshua's girls. Ray and Jaime must have intentionally been kept away. They'd help me. The rest? Including Joshua.... handed me over to these people. As I got behind the wheel, it dawned on me that most of them were Hispanic. My biggest concern had come true.... There was more than one Bunker.

Why did they want me though? The little voice in my head. The one each of us has.

"Ratty did something to you. Now they want you back to see the results!"

I floored it and got the Hell out of there down the highway. I saw "Meat" let out a shout as one of the few survivors jumped into one of the other cars. "Meat" jumped into another car with the only other surviving member of her party. There were sixteen of them in total. Now just three. Credit where it's due, most of those kills were the Rabs with an assist from me. I was ahead of the first guy. Pulled into a rest stop that was rather huge. But it only contained two large restrooms. One for Men, one for women. I got out, and headed towards the Men's room. This is where I need to mention I was far ahead of him.

As he got there, he saw the driver's door wide open. Men's room door wide open too. He parked and approached the bathroom. Three shots in his back, let him know he messed up! Always check the trunk! That's where I was hidden. It had one of those interior trunk release handles that come standard on cars now. So I locked myself inside instead of a kidnapper doing it. Pulled the handle on the quietly opening trunk from inside, slipped out. And instead of escaping from a kidnapper... Sprang my trap!

Got back in. Took off again. "Meat's" car was close behind. I turned the car onto a narrow back country road. Then managed to turn around and wait. Okay, seatbelt on. Air-bags in front of me. Hit the gas! I never played chicken before. But this is my "not caring" foot, and it's on the floorboard with the gas pedal sandwiched in!

I saw the look of pure terror in both their faces. Looks like "Meat" was going to get a brutal pounding after all. Then again, I'm sure she's used to it. He swerved. Car hit a tree. "Meat" at least had enough sense to wear her seatbelt. The driver? Well, he wasn't buckled in. Found him fifty feet from the car. Head slammed into a tree. Likely a broken neck. Not sure. Hell, he didn't have much of a skull anymore. I took his weapon. Glock 19. Nice! And his spare mag. Nice!.... since the magazine in the gun only had one round left. Next came "Meat." And I was kinda hungry. A rare treat.... Her handgun was a SIG P290RS. Very nice!! Always wanted one of these sub-compacts. But since it's double-action-only with a hammer instead of striker-fired, most gun snobs turn up their noses at it. Come on, it's still a SIG for Heaven's sake.

"Meat" was unconscious but still alive. I found some rope, a gag, and a blindfold in the trunks of one car. No doubt meant for me. I tied her up. Tossed her in the backseat of my new ride. Off we went! No, not back to the fort. I now, finally, understood what Jordan meant when she kept saying, "I'm going to miss you."

Heading towards this place that no one knew about, I was struck by one sad thought.... Not being able to pick up that handmade leather holster for my Beretta pistol that Synnia was making for me. Odd things pop into your mind when you unexpectedly kidnap someone who planned to kidnap you. Second thought.... I'm going to miss those girls.

What the heck?? Damn battery. It can't hold a charge for crap now. Guess I rambled a bit too much about eye surgery. Sorry about that guys. Give me literally a day or two to finish up this tale of reverse kidnapping. Promise it'll only be that long. Stay safe, guys.

At least I can honestly say, I got the girl! Every man at one point fantasizes about that. Maybe not this way, but it still counts! Ha ha!

Monocrom · Jan 12, 2017

Hello America! It's the Monocrom show. With your host.... Me. For those of you who hate the show, good news! We'll be cancelled soon. And no, that's not a joke. Sorry guys, I had intended to broadcast days ago. But one of two things got in the way. Real Life or this dang battery on the radio. One of those is true. You know which one it is. So apologies for that. But with the battery barely holding a charge and needing longer and longer to recharge, my broadcasting days are nearly done. As a matter of fact, I'm smashing up this radio and abandoning my underground home. Why? Well, we'll get into that later. But first, my guest....

I treated her very minor injuries. Always wear your seatbelts, kids.... And yeah, I'm trying way too hard to be funny. Eye-sight got worse. Why the Hell did they never make eye-glasses with magnifying glass. I have reading glasses. Will need to scavenge for more. And at the right clarification. Is that the right term? Sorry, wondering again. She was unconscious for awhile. I tied her to a chair using handcuffs and a good length of chain. Feet bound too with paracord. Towel folded up under her bare feet to keep them warm. I was ready for her. I imagined every trick and verbal ploy she'd try to use. I was ready for everything. Pleading, yelling, arguing, pretending to agree with me, even trying to continue to get me to surrender to her. To go back with her. Where ever "back" might be, that is. So I was ready for all of it. I pulled up a chair closer to her and used some smelling salts to bring her around.

Alright, let's see what she tries for first. It took her awhile to focus. And then.... She started to cry! Dammit! I was not expecting that. Holy crap! What the Hell do I do now?? Okay, I took off her gag. I told her there was no need for that. That if I wanted to hurt her, I would have done it already. That I just wanted to ask her a few questions.

Okay, yeah; YOU try telling a woman there is no need to cry. It's not about need. I had no clue what to do. That's when she calmed down just a tiny bit. Her mascara running down her face, she looked up at me with red eyes from crying and said this wasn't supposed to be like this. I asked what she meant. She repeated herself. Then she went on that it was supposed to be a simple pick up.

More like a simple kidnapping, if you ask me. Not as though she was there to pick up a Birthday cake for a family member. Last I checked, Sergay doesn't wear a chef's hat. I called her out on it. Perhaps with a bit more bearing in my voice than intended. She said it was all going to be simple. I go outside. Clarks speaks with me. She flirts with me. Kimberly shoots me once or twice with the tranq gun. They leave someone behind to start processing the fort residents into getting integrated within the Bunker. And they bring me back to a small town on the eastern edge of Pennsylvania.

"FOR WHAT?!"

Okay, maybe my anger was creeping back in, despite how her crying got me completely off guard. She said they knew who I was. She used Ratty's real name. Said that I had been lied to. That in reality I was being transported to the other Bunker when the helicopter crashed due to mechanical or pilot error. They weren't sure which it was. (Okay, they had no clue what really happened when I escaped.) She mentioned that, unknown how to her, it was learned that I was alive and living at the fort. Ratty was so excited, he came to get me back. Brought quite a few men with him to keep him safe from Rabs. (That would be the now decimated "Tent City.") She said she wasn't sure what happened. Ratty and the others went missing.

At some point in time, most likely before Ratty's visit, someone had made contact with a respected member of the fort. Someone to keep an eye on me inside the fort. Someone I'd never suspect. All in an effort to hand me over at some point in time.

"The nurse."

That got a very surprised look on her face. She asked how I knew. I told her to nevermind that. But that basically, her conscience gave her away. Remember all those sad looks the nurse used to give me? Well, turns out she was having second thoughts about giving me up to them. But both Garcia, and her boy toy convinced her to go along with the plan. The only two survivors from Tent City. Both had integrated themselves into the community. But why struggle a bit for survival when the second Bunker offers both shelter and massive protection from the Rabs. Apparently the one in Pennsylvania did very little testing on Rabs. And immediately killed them once an experiment or test was over.

Efficient, but hardly very effective. I hate needlessly killing people. But one of my few regrets is not putting a bullet into "Captain" Garcia's skull. Turns out the three of them were able to slowly convince the others. By the time I was greeted by her team, nearly everyone inside the fort, knew. Some wanted to hand me over. Most didn't care one way or the other. But life without fear that one day the walls would come down.... Well, if it cost them one of their own, so be it! Just as long as it wasn't them or a family member or a friend or the one who regularly got them off at the place that no one but me talks about. I was however glad to hear that this conspiracy did not involve anyone on my team.... except Jaime's wife.

So maybe I should have been surprised by that. Honestly, I wasn't. If Jaime told her he wanted her to be more compact to fit onto a deer cart, and brought the Doc over to amputate her non-working legs, she'd happily lie down and let it happen. Even if she might die of blood loss from the surgery. She'd absolutely do it. I think Synnia would murder a small child if it would benefit Jaime. Not that he'd ever ask her to do either of those things. Or anything monsterous like that. He wouldn't have to. If she thought it would benefit him, she would. Keep in mind.... She was the only one who knew, and didn't have a look of sadness in her eyes.

I asked if Sergay knew. She admitted he did. Said that he was supposed to send out word on a short-wave transmitter after I took possession of my new guns because I lost my primary ones earlier. No sad look on his face. I asked why they chose to move in at a time when I would clearly be ready for them.

Turns out, Sergay was supposed to pull the firing pins from my new guns. Hell, he had time to do it. He said he would. Good old greedy bastard, Sergay. He lied to them. Knew he couldn't trust them to keep their word. Knew they wanted me alive. So he gave me a fighting chance. Sergay may sell you a .38 S&W revolver when you think you're getting a far more common .38 Special. But despite your ignorance, he still sold you a revolver with ammunition to go with it. It still goes "bang" when you pull the trigger. Sergay won't sell you a broken gun and tell you it works. He also won't sell you a gun without its firing pin when you want one that works. Basically, he won't sell you a useless paperweight shaped like a gun, unless you want to buy a paperweight.

I had to smile at that. I then told her she knew full well what type of experiments went on at her Bunker. So she must have at least had an idea of the sort that went on in the other one. She looked away. Oh yes, she knew. But why bring sixteen people for a simple pick up. And why me? Turns out "Meat" was privy to a lot of intelligence. They weren't sure if I was violent or not. Seems the nurse thought I was prone to violent mood swings. Okay, that explains the muscle. But why me?..... Turns out that during my stay as a "guest," Ratty injected me with something while I was asleep. No clue there. But he did the same with numerous others. All died, except for three. Those two went completely insane and did murderous deeds inside the Bunker. That left one. Me. So they watched me. And their spy inside reported on my "progress." Apparently, some committee had decided that my violence was the result of outside factors that required it. Not the result of an internal derangement to murder others. Once that was decided, it was time to pick me up.

Oh and yes, it is what you're thinking. Ratty had injected me with serum #226. Vaccine against the super rabies infection. Oh I could still be torn apart by Rabs. But if one of them only takes a bite out of me, provided he doesn't rip out an artery, I'll be fine. So they needed me. Needed to know why I wasn't dead or insane off my butt. Ratty had my full medical history. He shared it with them at the other Bunker through radio transmissions. So what was the "X" factor that made me different? My slight overweight issues. The situation with my eyes. Possibly genetic factors. None of the other test subjects were Russian. They HAD to know. There HAD to be tests done. Well, screw that. Tests mean literal dissection. And I'm not doing it to save a bunch of scumbags.

It was then that something truly horrible occurred to me, inside my head. An idea. I demanded to know where the second Bunker was. Details! And lots of them!! To my incredible surprise, she cooperated. No threats from me, no torture of any kind. Not even a hint of it. She said I reminded her of Hector. Her dead husband. That I had his same type of personality.... And that because of it, she felt sorry for me. Hector took things all to heart. All of it. Especially every slight or perceived slight. That he couldn't easily get over things. She told me a story about a co-worker of his from back in the day. The guy borrowed three dollars from Hector for a slice of mushroom pizza. A week later, Hector was fired for telling off his boss. Apparently, the guy deserved it. But you still get fired for telling off your boss. Five years later, the co-worker stumbled onto Hector in Manhattan. Greeted him warmly. First thing Hector said was, "You owe me three dollars for that mushroom slice." The guy was surprised. But as Hector held out his hand, the guy coughed up the money. Hector simply turned around and walked away.

Okay, yeah; I do take things close to heart. When did I ever say I was normal? This good heart has done nothing useful for me. I asked why she gave me such detailed info. She said she hoped I'd do the right thing and travel there to give myself up. I don't think she liked the creepy smile I gave her. As for that horrific realization, I armed myself; and made her walk back with me to the fort. Yeah, I knew what I would find.

The exchange did not go well at all. And these are not the type of people who accept disappointment at all. No, they're the type who experiment on children and babies. Kill one Ratty, and an army of rats are hidden in the sewers. Waiting to rise up. It had been a few days since I left. The walls were down and smoldering. You won't believe what I found inside. Although I could.

What the Hell?! Okay, I know this battery is still good. Darn indicator is acting up. I have to squint like a bastard to see the tiny writting that was crystal clear just a few days ago. I'll stop now. But switch it back on in a little while. And no, I don't mean in another week. Hold on, guys.