Entry #1: 01/13/2017
01/13/2017. LTJG Clarence Hudson, SEAL Team Three, Troop 2, Platoon 1, AOIC.
We're gearing up for an operation in the infected city. It's a standard quarantine op, we're taking out hostiles and infected, grouping survivors and uninfected, and getting them to safe zones. Due to the nature of the contagion, it is absolutely vital that nobody, potential infectee or infectee leaves the area until evacuation has begun. Lethal force is authorized in that case.
We've been trained to deal with the infected, but this is our first op as a team. This is the outbreak. As AOIC it will be my duty to lead my men and make sure they stay alive. We'll have support from AH-64 Apache helicopters, AH-1 SuperCobras, AH-6 Little Birds, and SH-60 Seahawks to deploy in. Outside the perimeter of the city, AC-130 gunships and patrols will be searching the perimeters for potential infectees leaving the area. I feel sorry for anyone trying to go, but they've been warned about this.We're gearing up, and I've been asked to record information and record of the mission in my journal.
We've been told to pack light enough that we can stay mobile, but heavy enough that we can take on multiple hostiles for at least a week in the operation until resupply. I don't get what they mean by "Pack light and heavy" but what-the-hell ever. Standard equipment for myself includes the SCAR-L Assault Rifle, but I don't quite enjoy using this rifle. It has low power, and even lower accuracy. I prefer even my UMP as a backup weapon. It's an accurate SMG and it fires quite the hefty .45 caliber. My sidearm is a USP .45, which is pretty standard issue now. It's an effective handgun, better than the M9 the infantry get. I get four M67 grenades and a knife, of course. However, I prefer to bring my own blade to the fight. It's a trench spike.
We've been told the most effective means of dispatching the infected is a headshot. Any means will do, but the head is the most efficient and effective means of killing it. Single shot on our weapons and we're prepared to handle them. What worries me are the non-infected. We've gotten reports of Militia and armed hostiles inside. Looters like that, people panicking.
Gotta get some sleep. We gotta be prepared to go off in a moment's notice.
We had a drill in the middle of the night. An hour after it's over, the operation actually begins. I really don't get that, but it's Fucking Command, and they suck ass. CO Knox might be mad if he heard me say that, and I guess I've hung out with the enlistees for too long and heard what they've said. I don't care much, mind you, but it doesn't really matter. What does matter is I'm sitting in the fucking helicopter right now, and we're half an hour out. I don't quite know what to expect. We're going to drop in fast and right in the middle of the city. At dawn. I don't quite know whose idea this shitstorm was, but I imagine they've a few screws lose. Either that or they're Intelligence, and everyone knows SOG Intelligence is an oxymoron. Heh.
I'm being told right now I need to put my journal away. So...I will. When we touch down and get to point #1, I'll record what's happened.
As far as I know, people have already tried to leave the perimeter. This has become a SHITHOLE. We're supposed to be saving people, not blasting them off. And more and more people keep trying to leave. I begin to wonder...
We made it in. We ran into infected and some OpFor as soon as we dropped. One of the seahawks got downed by a stinger. These fucks have stingers? Really? It ain't fuckin' right. Platoons 1 and 2 successfully dropped in. After that, we split to tackle our objectives. We lost E-2 Williams to hostile fire. No trouble with the infected... but some of these ones can run, not just walk like in the trainers. I had to get my Trench Spike to take a runner down.
We made it to RV Alpha. We're supposed to gather everyone from this block, fortify the position, and get them on their feet defending until they can be safely extracted. From there, we move to Bravo, Charlie, so on. There were forty survivors here already; some high school teens, families, local law enforcement, and some couples and single adults. We've had a few lost children as well. We've been advising them on how to manage, barricade, and defend themselves, but also advised them not to loot or forage. Same shit, we're trying to keep civil laws and government in place. We only encountered some infected who attacked, and based on what we trained the civvies in, they seemed to combat the infected well alongside us. Raiders attacked, however, and we lost three civvies. We've advised to turn off all power in the building, and to keep a regulated watch.
We will search within a mile radius to look for survivors throughout buildings tomorrow.
We managed to gather fourteen more survivors today. We lost two civillians to the infected, and we lost E-3 Moriarty to the infected as well. CO Knox informed me that one of Moriarty's brothers is in the sky above us in the AC-130's, guarding the perimeter.
We were checking a building, and we were clearing our corners. Platoon OIC had our fireteams cover each floor, which wasn't a great idea. We should've done each one as an entire platoon. We covered the third floor of the building, Moriarty, "Airborne", Grant, "Fuckass" and I. We cleared the stairs and corridors and each checked a room. Airborne and Moriarty covered an apartment building, and while clearing, Moriarty opened a closet. A walker immediately attacked him, and he was already bitten by the time we got there. Airborne was bashing into that fucking zombie's skull. I walked over to his bloodied body, and he was already showing signs of turning. Walker bit right at the neck. It wasn't right. He asked me to put a bullet in his head so he wouldn't turn. OIC got down, and demanded we burn the body, RIGHT WHILE HE WAS STILL FUCKING ALIVE. I wanted to shoot OIC right there. But instead, I shot Moriarty. I shot Moriarty because nobody else would. Not even fuckin OIC.
We grabbed his gear, took his tags, left the body at the orders of CO. We got out of that building, rounded up survivors, and headed back to RVA.
Before leaving in the middle of the night, we informed the survivors that they were to wait in the building fortifying the position. Bi-Weekly, supplies would be dropped on the roof of the RV zone. Any attempt to leave the city would result in death at the hands of the AC-130 Gunships and Task Forces.
Alright, I regret the day I ever joined the SEALs or the military for that matter. RV Bravo was a mess. And the hordes of infected have swarmed it. No survivors in the area. Command ordered us to remain in the area until a full sweep was completed and RV Bravo was secured. We encountered heavy infected resistance, including unidentified forms of infected, mutated types possessing physical limit strength, agility, ability, and...tactical precision. These ones were able to think. Pick us off one by one. They fucked us up. They fucked us up real bad. Fuck Command, I...
need to start at the beginning. When we got here, we got picked off by snipers. We managed to eliminate the snipers but we're down three men. We grab the gear as always and jet. 14 men left in the platoon, and we get inside the perimeter of RV Bravo. These mutated...THINGS, spider-like human infected, things with contorted limbs climbing on the fucking walls...ambushed us. We ran out into the street where at least they had to hit the ground to attack us. We were surrounded by a fucking horde of zombies.
We were nine men now. We took up refuge in a building and began fortifying. We wanted to jet, and CO was telling us to stay in position. Our OIC even agreed with us though...OIC told him "Fuck you, we're getting out of here." CO shot him. Shot him dead. In the head. I through myself at CO Knox and we fell out the window a story down. The infected started coming down on us, but we weren't distracted by them. I had business to settle.
CO pulled an electric brass knuckle set on me and tazered me twice. I fell to the ground and he started pulling towards the infected. I was immobile for the moment, but I knew was he was doing. I tripped him up and he screamed. I took a look at his face and he had broken his nose. No use waiting, I pulled out my combat knife and jammed in his shoulder. I jumped from there with my Trench Spike, and the bastard got up and ripped that knife out. He started making a move at me...until he stopped...and felt his sidearm.
Why neither of us went for our sidearms, I'll never know. But I didn't go for mine, he took his out and I jumped him. He managed to get a bullet in my arm, but got the knife down on him. We struggled on the ground, me trying to get the knife in his throat, and I realized the infected were just getting closer. maybe twenty feet away. He looked too, and I used that distraction against him. I slid my knife around and cut his throat. He managed to get another bullet jammed in my thigh, and I slashed his throat. I couldn't waste time there, though, Blood had splattered into my eyes and they stung. I could hardly see, but I just had to move. An infected grabbed me from there, and we struggled.
The infected was in an advanced state of decomposition. It had a broken, raw, skinless jaw, teeth were missing, the rest were rotted, the walker had no nose, only a gaping hole where it was. Skin was missing all around and some bone was noticeable. It had no hair. Its clothes were ripped and torn, and it had...bullet riddles. It had been in a fight. It was struggling with me, No anger, no emotion, just absolute...emptiness. It had a hold of my arms and was trying to bite my shoulder. I remember my technique and flipped my wrist around, quickly jamming the blade into its skull. I remembered to close my eyes...infected blood in open wounds isn't a good idea, as I've been told.
I struggled to get back inside the building through a side door. When I got in, the place was a mess, and there were...three fellow men dead, including the body of our Platoon's OIC. I tried to get in touch with team, and nobody responded. There were infected in the building...and I was bleeding. I wasn't quite sure combat was a good idea. obviously they had overrun the building and my smart comrades had left. If I could get in touch with them later, I would try. I needed to get out. I broke out through a window as two infected began clawing towards me.
I struggled out into an alleyway where there was a single walker was feeding on some poor bitch at the other end. I saw a small apartment building that looked clear, but rather than going through the front door to find infected, I decided I would use the fire escape. I struggled across the street, multiple infected seeing me, some moving towards me. The fire escape ladder wasn't down...I had to think. Infected were very close now, only a dozen meters away and turning the corner.
I saw the lock & release on the fire escape and immediately thought of my sidearm. I shot the lock off the fire escape and climbed up, just as infected were a few feet away. I climbed to the first floor and up the stairs. It was clear until I reached the rooftop. At the rooftop, there were two infected. I dispatched them with headshots from my UMP on sling and one fell off the roof. I knelt down against a ventilation system and began removing my kevlar, tactical equipment, and clothes.. I grabbed my morphine syrette and jammed it in. Self-surgery was never recommended...but we were taught what we'd have to do for covert ops. I grabbed my neck knife from its sheathe and began sterilizing it with my lighter. I began feeling around inside the wound in my arm...
The pain is incredible, even with morphine, I fucking felt like a million hornets were jamming around, ants eating at my flesh...but I found the bullet...and picked it out. I got my peroxide tablet and squeezed some in there, then began sewing it up. I moved to my thigh and did the same. At least I could hold my thigh and keep it straight while I thrashed around. But it was more dangerous around my thigh. Blood started gushing the more I poked...The morphine hit and the pain went away but I knew I could kill myself and not even know it. I felt around for the bullet...and...I've found it. I'm sewing it up now.
I've lost contact with my squad. This op is still ongoing though and the objective can still be completed. I will attempt to find the remainder of my squad at RV Charlie. We'll find Platoon 2. We'll finish this mission. We'll go home.
I can't go down the fire escape, the infected have swarmed down there. I know what to expect as I descend this building, but I'm not sure I'm ready for it. I got two UMP magazines and three sidearm clips left. If this is it...Make sure this journal gets into the right hands.