NationStates Jolt Archive

"Fifteen fucking people died Carter! Fifteen fucking people and what for! Your own personal wishlist! I am sick to fucking death of your shit and the way this colony is slowly becoming your personal kingdom, you'd better wise up soon or a lot more fucking people will die!" Screamed one of the colonists as he exited Carter's tent.

Carter was defacto leader of the colony after having helped in its existence, to his left sat Ryan, a quiet member of the colony, no matter what day it was you would find him writing in his journal, his face more often than not hidden by scarves and goggles.

"Antilles..I just dont get it, more and more of the colonists keep siding with the younger people, am i really doing such a bad job?" Carter asked Ryan as he sat down and sighed

"If you really feel the need to ask me that question then yes, I think you're doing a bad job...you need to step back abit and look at the bigger picture, everyday we get more and more news and survivors and so we need to get more supplies but we go out unprepared most the time... and we lose a lot of people... but for now get some rest Carter, we have a job to do tomorrow" Ryan replied as he stood up and picked his journal up and left Carter's tent.


Monday 8th June 2009 8:27 a.m.

"Ok! people of Haven, I knwo you haven't seen eye to eye with myself recently but all that is to change, a new way of thinking will ensure this colony survives, I have sent out several mayday messages on all frequencies in the hope that we can be saved, but I fear it is too late, you see, my time is over and I fear all of yours is too." Carter spoke tyo the crowd of colonists gathered before taking from his pocket a handgun and forcing it into his mouth and then... a bang and then silence

"Carter? CARTER NO!" screamed ryan as he ran to the podium , he was dead, his blood drained from the podium to the floor, "Quickly..burn the body, we cant have any trace of blood left unless we want another bunch of infected at our door!"

The colonists quickly moved to move Carter's body to a nearby furnace they had constructed, as his body was thrown in many of the colonists stood in silence, he may have lost his way these past few years but he was one of the first

"Nathan..Jamie... we're the only original colonists left so I guess that puts us in charge.. look I need you to monitor the frequencies etc, you know the basic stuff and also we need to make a trip into the city, food stocks are low and it's the only place right now open to us to scavange, can you organise this?" Ryan asked as two bulky men walked over, both built like rhinos but both with thick red hair and thick scottish accents

"Aye, were right on it Antman,you can count on us!" they both barked in sync

"Ok..get the fuck out of here then ten ton hammers haha! we have a job to do, to stop this place from turning into the mindless horde out there!" Ryan said as the three of them spread out and carried out their duties

A young man watched it all from a distance. He shook his head. Why did all this have to happen? A few weeks ago he had been a unhappy car thief in Northampton, earning his poor living by getting people what they couldn´t get in any lawful ways, and now he was what? A unhappy car thief in one of mankind´s last strongholds? A survivor in an apocalyptic world? Whatever the answer was, he didn´t like it. He sighted and walked back to his tent.

"Fuck, I hate it when it rains, it messes with the equipment" a young man said as he banged his monitor in frustration and then behind him Antilles walked in

"Are we ok for the smash and grab later on, I dont want another bunch of people dying on me like the last bunch of guys we sent out scavenging?" Antilles asked as he adjusted his goggles

The young man looked at Antilles with a surprized glare, not many people had seen Antilles' face and many saw him as a ghost as he rarely showed himself unless he was by Carter's side but after recent events it seems he would be sen more and maybe show his face

"Um..yeah we should be okay but I need to warn you though, some of the recent squads going out noticed a lot of the infected are building up in the city centre, specifically near the qudarant centre"

Antilles stared at the young guy and thought to himself,
"The Quadrant was sealed off before the infection started, it's like a fortress..with shops, no one gets in or out so why are they even near there?"

"Also some of the guys heard what sounded like gunfire a few days back whilst going near the quadrant centre...we told Carter but he shrugged it off said we were hearing things" the young man replied as he typed away at his computer that somehow managed to work despite the amount of times power had been severed from the colony

"Gunshots...what the fuck was Carter doing!? Can you look for any recent contacts made to Haven..I have a feeling Carter hid something" Antilles asked as he picked up a nearby assault rifle he had "commandeered" from an abandoned military blockade

"Urr.... Antilles... we have a problem, over the past 3 months Carter was erasing and ignoring every contact with survivors...and the messages were coming from the Quadrant...he was selecting who lives and who dies....we need to go out there now!" the guy yelled at Antilles as his face drained of colour, the very though that people out there were being left to die because of an old mans delusions
"If you're going out there then I'm coming...the last messages was 2 days ago...the message says"


We are in dire need of assistance, we are held up in the Quadrant Shopping Arcade, we know you are there... we have senet several requests now for aid but all have been ignored, we are on the verge of having the deadheads outside break through, we cant hold out..please if you can help us we would be eternally grateful, this will be our last message to you, we hope you do come to our aid, this is the Quadrant signing out

Antilles marched out of the tent and through the muddy overgrown grass and to where a bunch of his smash and grab squad were sat smoking

"Boys...we've got a job, do or die, you in or out because we're gonna be up to our fucking necks in deadheads! So if you're in, grab whatever you can because this is a rescue job" Ordered Antilles as he leapt into a nearby 4x4 and placed a new cartridge into his rifle and looked to the kid he had just been looking at was running towards the 4x4's warming up ready to go


"I'm going with you,no buts, this is something I need to do!"

Antilles looked at him and smiled but you couldnt tell for the goggles and scarves he wore yet his words rung clear

"Your funeral kid"

And with that the 4x4's revved their engines and drove off the compound and into the silence of the empty streets

Somewhere in Dorset -

“Wait for it,” whisper Captain Price, his right hand resting on the Gunner’s shoulder, “Wait for them to get into the kill zone.”

It was daybreak and the Rifle Company had been in a running battle with the infected during the night, like pacts of animals the infected had probed their defences causing a number of casualties as strong points were overrun. This was it for Captain Price, the village they had occupied weeks ago had been reduced to smoking ruin as high explosives were set off, crumbling buildings that had stood for decades previous.

He and his men, around 60 at last count, had fortified the village church and the surrounding graveyard. It gave them a fairly impressive kill zone but they all knew this was the last stand, their number was up and as soon as the ammunition ran out they were done for.

“I wish Major Lincoln was here sir,” whispered the Gunner, Rifleman Taylor, “I still can’t get him out of my head.”

Major Lincoln was the old Company Commander; he had the reputation of leading from the front ever since Afghanistan. It brought his eventual demise to a pack of infected in one of the outlying strong points, the whole Company saw him go down in the street, buying time as his troops withdrew... it wasn’t a pretty sight.

“We all can’t,” whispered Price, “Try and put it out of your mind... here they come.”

The horde of infected had been lurching forward for some time, only now had they moved into the claymore arcs. Price picked up the clacker and after a quick prayer he squeezed it.

A red mist descended over the kill zone, followed shortly by heavy rifle and machine gun rifle. UGLs smashed grenades into the horde, scattering them. The action was short and sweet... but they would be back...

“Ceasefire! Ceasefire!” yelled Captain Price, “CSM, casualties and ammunition... Fresh mags lads, they’ll be back!”

Six Hours Later....

The midday sun beat down on the church, bathing the inside in colour light from what was left of the stained glass windows. Captain Price trained his pistol on the massive doorway, double tapping the infected as they crashed through the door. He was fairly resigned to his fate now, his command was scattered, he didn’t know how many were left.

He could hear the screams.

“Harris,” crocked Price, his mouth dry, “Any response?”

Corporal Harris was sat on the altar, his rifle lay on his lap... one round left in it and a radio stood next to him. “No, no... not since that grabbled message yesterday...”

The conversation was cut short as half of the door came off the hinges letting a swarm of infected into the church. Price turned the pistol on himself and nodded to Harris.

“God be with you sir,” muttered Harris.

Price started to pull the trigger but was interrupted, as 30mm rounds peppered the doorway, followed by some sort of missile that blew Price onto his back and knocked Harris off the alter.

He must of blacked out for a moment, as when he came to the smoke from the explosion had disappeared and was replaced by an eerie quiet.

He caught a glimpse of Harris, lying on the floor, thankfully still breathing. He pulled himself off the ground and looked around for his pistol. Picking it up, he shook his head, trying to clear the haze and stumbled to his feet.

The light from the doorway caused him to shield his eyes as he moved outside. What he saw outside made him cry.

A Warrior AFV rumbled down what was left of the high street to the Church, what looked like a platoon of infantry flanked it clearing houses as they went. He could see some of his men, some were dead... some were lying wounded on the grass but others were calling out to their saviours and taking pot shots at fleeing infected.

“What happened,” asked Price, walking towards one of the cheering Riflemen.

“Sir!” called the Rifleman Walker, “We thought you were dead when they over run the church... We tried to help but we couldn’t get back to you, if it wasn’t for the Apache...”

“Apache?”

“Yes sir,” smiled Walker, “We were done for, then Christ... there is was, it slaughtered them!”

“Whose in charge?” asked Price looking around.

“CSM Collins is heading over to the Warrior, but I suppose now your back Sir....”

Price headed off towards the Warrior, hoping to find out what the hell was going on.

The scavenger squad arrived at the Quadrant, its silence exterior puzzled all who arrived, it sent a shiver down the spines of the squad.

"Sir! Where are the survivors,there isn't any sign of any infected, this has to be a trap!" a panic stricken squaddie said to the others

"And who exactly is laying the trap? The infected? Their animals now, rotting each passing day" Antilles replied as he looked around him

On a roof right behind the squad it stared down at them, it's eyes glaring at the squad, an infected relishing the chance for fresh blood, it turned away from the edge of the roof and walked away...and then turned quickly and leapt from the roof onto the squad member who thought this was a trap, its hands quickly searching for open flesh before sinking his teeth in, blood gushed from the squaddie's neck as the infected was filled with bullets but before itdied properly it let out a bloodcurdling scream...it was a trap...they were getting smarter, like wolves

"FUCK! Quickly into the quadrant, find a way in through the loading bay! MOVE IT!" Screamed Antilles as his squad sprinted towards the docking bay as more and more infected followed, frenzied by the smell of fresh blood

"OVER HERE!" a voice called, a small child with blonde hair was by the loading bay doors, as the squad slid underneath so did an infected but there was no escape, cornered the infected backed up against the loading bay shutters


"He's ...scared?! Should have learned not to run with the big boys!" Antilles mocked as he emptied a round of bullets into the infecteds gut and finally into its head

"Are you...from Haven? I've been trying to get in touch with you for some time now, My name is Finn...I'm the only one left here, Infected took all the people here lives...they all couldnt bare to become one of those things so they..they just ended their own lives."

Antilles stared at Finn, he was only 13 but this ordeal had aged him a few years

"Hey kid, you're coming with us...as soon as we find a way out of here and get some supplies." Antilles replied before Finn revealed to him some keys

"Already done, we prepared incase you would arrive so it's just waiting.. on the other side of that door" Finn replied as he handed the keys to Antilles

"And for my next trick...I'll make seven men and a kid dissapear with a lot of food and a lorry..easier said than done" Antilles sighed as he sat himself down on the floor

Captain Price removed his helmet and rested his aching head on the Chinook’s cargo netting, he was sat near the front of the helicopter and could see through the crew chief’s window, they were flying low over the Bristol Channel , he could see the Severn bridge in the distance. Half of, what was now his company was in the Chinook with him while the rest were being carried out in a second Chinook, which he could also see from the crew chief’s window, they were lazily flying parallel to each other.

“Sir,” shouted the Crew Chief, thrusting a headset into his hands, “Pilot wants you.”

It took Price a few moments to snap himself out of the haze caused by lack of sleep, “Price here,” he shouted putting the headset to his ear.

“In case no one’s briefed you, we’re flying into Brecon and putting down in the TA centre there, its being used as a staging ground.”

“For what?” yelled Price, a confused look on his face, “You mean there is a Command structure out there?”

It had never occurred to him that some sort of order could be out there, he honestly thought he was one of the last to be ‘healthy’. It never even occurred to ask the Warrior patrol what the situation was as they bundled him and his men into the Chinooks that dropped from the sky nearly as fast as the Apache did. He was so tired and frankly, at that point, he had given up. There was hope now and... it was weird, he had no idea how he felt, but at least he had time to recover and regroup.

“Ha!” laughed the Pilot, “For what? I have no idea; I just haul ass and trash. Major-General Richards is in charge there, there must be at least a Brigade. I’m sure he’ll explain it to you... you’re a big fish.”

“A Brigade!? Why the hell they aren’t out there,” screamed Price, becoming animated as he spoke, “They can make a difference.”

“Hey,” called the pilot, looking back through the doorway, “They pulled your ass out of the fire.”

Captain Price sighed and leaned back against the cargo netting, “How long?”

“About an hour,” the Pilot snapped before turning off the intercom.