ukron
Commander
"Beware of the French"
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Post by ukron on Jul 23, 2022 4:57:29 GMT
Chapter 98: From the Ashes
December 9, 2018 (Z-Day +54)
Rio Niteroi bridge.
Rio de Janeiro, BrazilBOPE operator Filipe Eduardo da Costa was firmly holding its SPAS 15, watching for the black silhouettes slaloming among the carcasses of vehicles, and dozens of bodies of the infected shot dead the previous hours. The BOPE was once again at the head of the one and only resistance facing chaos, to dead and destroyed. Rio was their city and they would not let it succumb, neither to cartels, nor to the dead. The ammunition will be lacking but the courage is there, finally above all the determination, the last convoys of civilians had just left the city and it was obvious that these bastards followed them closely. The bridge would be destroyed in a few moments, definitively marking the end of all organized resistance in Rio. A wave of despair touched these men, who had always fought for this city, braving bullets and blades to try to pacify this one. Some people could wonder about the real capacities that could deploy the BOPE to take back the city but it was not question for the bureaucrats of Brasilia, who them had not had to escape the teeth and putrid flesh of the infected from lose one more life among the elite troops, even if that meant losing 1000, 2000 or even 6000 lives. Damn bureaucrats? Where were they when cities started to fall? Rio and Sao Paulo? These bastards of the corrupt had fled to Brasilia, where the government had very wisely withdrawn behind fortifications mounted in haste. The Brazilian Army had suffered enormous losses in order to evacuate as much as possible, even the traffickers of drugs had tried to help the police, which was inconceivable for BOPE veterans. It’s a real heartbreak to see Christ the Redeemer rise above the ruined city, its bloody streets and its burning buldings. A red sea of blood testified to the massacre when people tried to leave the beaches for the dozens of boats in the bay. Da Costa could have been ill if he had not had the experience of BOPE, after all what violence is it most sordid? That of humans or the dead, that of seeing the most favored, the bureaucrats and the tourists escape when the Brazilians themselves are cut to pieces? God had not been there to judge . As always said an annoying little inner voice. "Here, they are!" Exclaimed one of the men when he saw two Embraer EMB 314 appear at the bottom of the water. A barrage of machine-gun fire fell on the nearest infected while the second aircraft dropped two bombs which in an instant bursted the bridge in a glowing fireball. Rio was over. "Move you guys! The Navy asked us to clean up the banks." The CO said. Rio was over but for Brazil, the fight has only begun. 
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ukron
Commander
"Beware of the French"
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Post by ukron on Jul 30, 2022 12:17:51 GMT
Chapter 99: Here's To A Hopeful Year End
December 12, 2019 (Z-Day+56, evening)
Edwins Andrews Air Base
Zamboanga City, Zamboanga, Philippines
Petty Officer 3rd Class Michael O' Connor and his team of SEALs assisted the AFP personnel (a mix of Army, Marines, Air Force, and few PNP) setting up a makeshift Christmas tree for the refugee camp. Christmas is always a favorite time of the Filipinos regardless of disasters. The KPV Crisis did not stop Filipinos from celebrating the coming of the Yultide season. All across the archipelago and to various overseas Filipinos currently in refugee camps, it brought light and hope from singing of Christmas songs to giving of small gifts.
One of the security at the base, a NAVSOG[1] operator Petty Officer 3rd Class Ricardo Bautista, looked at the wandering Infected outside the perimeter fences. With his NVGs, he could see the Infected were slowing down. Even their rot could be seen from the nods he was wearing.
"What you got there sir?" Another NAVSOG operator, Senior Petty Officer Erwin Remedio asked, M4 in hand.
"The Infected. They're getting slower. Makes me think, it's just a matter of time until they fall from rot. Then we can retake our cities with the help from our allies."
Eight weeks into the outbreak, the Infected all around the world started getting slower. Some counter attacks occurred. Though some countries opted to wait them out longer so clearing them would be easier.
"Helps we are in a tropical country. They rot faster here."
As the Christmas tree lit up, there was a small and silent applause. The American Special Forces in the base were amazed at the positivity of the Filipinos in the camp.
"Amazing, they've been through worse yet they can smile." One of the U.S. Navy Seabees assigned to construction of the base said.
True, the Filipinos have seen the worse in the country from earthquakes to typhoons and now this, but yet Christmas season is always a time to celebrate. The children around the camp began singing Christmas songs in both Filipino and English. Some people with their still functioning smartphones recorded the whole thing, hoping to make the video viral once the Internet comes back on.
"Give it a few more months or so and this whole thing will be over." One of the NAVSOG operators said to his American counterparts, who nodded in response.
*************
Authors' Notes:
[1] Naval Special Operations Group. The Philippine Navy's equivalent of the U.S. Navy SEALs.
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ukron
Commander
"Beware of the French"
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Post by ukron on Jul 30, 2022 12:18:47 GMT
Chapter 100: Buried
December 20, 2018 (Z-Day + 64)
Not so far of Tirana, AlbaniaAltin Ahmedi isn't so brave that he assumed but in those conditions, who would teach him a lesson? Altin wasn't a soldier nor a warrior. He is or was (as Albania main occupation is now to survive without international relief) a 25 year old arts student. In a sense, his studies had saved his life. If they hadn't pushed him to find a small job to support himself as much as his grandmother's, he would never have found this job guide in the old bunkers of the Hoxha era. These monstrous constructions seemed to affirm the power and the resolution of the regime, long gone, to maintain itself against and against all. Against the West, against the Soviets, and even against the Albanian people. When the crisis of the 1990s and 2000s passed, the gigantic armored doors closed on the secrets, the grudges and the remorse of a whole period. Europe reached out its hand and the economy recovered finally for a time. Altin stands caulked in one of the old rooms, recently opened to the public, especially foreigners, in order to encourage tourism. At least there is a bed, some food, a map of the underground networks and enough fuel to heat and light up. The young man thinks of his grandmother, if she is still alive, if she thinks of him or if she has turned into one of his creatures because he abandoned her. He cries (his cries are blocked by the icy concrete walls). He also thinks back to the group of survivors piled up by the soldiers in a bus and coldly shot because probably infected. The long fumes tearing from the carcasses of ships bombed by the Navy, the cries of dying cut to pieces. He also thinks of this child, barely 7-8 years old who crossed paths with him trying to reach the entrance to the bunker. He was dragging himself pitifully on his two bloody legs, pieces of which he was missing. His gaze and his white eyes lightning the soul of Altin. The latter grabbed an aspirin tablet...his headache did not weaker...well on the contrary...damn icy corridors... The young student's mind is tormented between a fairly obvious guilt and a kind of self-gratification. Yes he had survived. Yes he had escaped the Infected who had devoured his comrades, his friends, his teachers. He had escaped the bullets of the soldiers and the bombs of the planes. He was not a warrior. He was only a poor art student from Tirana, finishing his ends of the month by walking big German or Italian tourists in old ruins that nobody wanted to talk about anymore...was it a crime? Should everyone rise up and challenge oppression and injustice? He doesn't know..no he doesn't want to know. Altin's guilt made him suffer less, his bite in the leg as well. 
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ukron
Commander
"Beware of the French"
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Post by ukron on Jul 30, 2022 12:19:32 GMT
Chapter 101: Peace Lines5 days ago...
December 15, 2018 (Z-Day +51)
Belfast, Northern Ireland
"The Belfast battle is still ongoing as thousands of armed protesters, IRA and RUC members, policemen, British, and Irish soldiers fight well against a fearless and pitiless enemy. The so called "Peace lines" designed in order to make a cut between catholic and protestants, finally has been useful as the swarm coming from the south is blocked. You can see how much the Belfast population, among them young catholic and protestants are united against a common foe. "
[The BBC journalist approaches a group of armed young men defending a fence. Beside them, two operators from the Irish Army Ranger Wing armed with HK416 rifles stood guard, watching over enemy positions.]
"How's the defense going?"
"Well, those bloody bastards are trying to overrun the southern fences but the Catholic guys have done their best to postpone them. We can surely now keep our position as long God wants. The horde that formed behind the convoys of refugees coming from the south caught us a little by surprise but luckily we were armed, and damn well armed. You see this Armalite? It is from one of our friends from the south who gave it to us. With that I can tell you that not one of these rotten corpses will cross the Ulster."
[The journalist nods and joins a group of police and soldiers talking.]
"Hello gentlemen, what can you tell us about the ongoing situation?"
[An Ulster policeman replies:]
"I must admit that the fact that the situation is under control surprises us greatly, we were worried about losing the southern districts then the whole of the city but the operations carried out by agents ... hmm of the IRA and Irish army, in particular that of diversion made it possible to separate the bulk of the horde into smaller groups, more easily controllable. I optimistically think that we can maintain our position long enough to consider the orderly evacuation of all citizens ".
[The journalist turns to the camera]
"You can thus see the surrealist atmosphere which reigns in Belfast. The news from London and Manchester is frightening but the civilian population seems to keep the moral despite the obvious deprivation of water, food and electricity, which instead of dividing people into rival groups seems to have them closer. This epidemic crisis has at least had the merit of bringing together groups of people who once hate each other.
This is Denis Murray, BBC correspondent for Northern Ireland."
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ukron
Commander
"Beware of the French"
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Post by ukron on Jul 30, 2022 12:20:13 GMT
Chapter 102: An Ass Kicking Christmas
December 24-25, 2018 (Z-Day + 60/61)
Hilton Hawaiian Village
Waikiki Beach
Honolulu, Hawaii
Christmas in the time of crisis.
The thought was funny.
Everyone thought this will be over by Christmas. Nope. Even the pandemic covered the Christmas season.
"War's gonna be over by Christmas my ass!" repeated through my mind. I ponded on the thought this was how the U.S. and Allied soldiers fought in the Ardennes Forest in the Winter of 1944. The failure of Operation Market Garden ended all hopes that the Second World War would by 1944. Roughly 70 years later, the untimely appearance of the Killer Pandemic last October meant that Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year would ultimately be part of it.
Despite this, we still had to be grateful. Life is precious after all. Just like Thanksgiving last month, Christmas marked another milestone. That is something to celebrate.
***************
There were no Christmas masses held for the Filipino diaspora in Hawaii. The state government still banned public congregation. So instead, my friends and I just had a simple celebration. Like Thanksgiving, Gabrielle's family invited us for Christmas dinner.
A few days ago, they both knew I was dating their daughter. They are fine with it. Thank the Lord.
our friend Jim was released at long last as it was determined the he was negative for the infection. For now, he walked on crutch as his prosthetics was still being processed.
"Buddy, you're back." I said as I greeted the Texan. Everyone approached the gentle giant, giving him an embrace and greeting him a Merry Christmas.
"There is still some fight in me. Those bastards won't get me easily." Jim replied.
"I would like you to meet my family, Jim." Gabrielle said. "I told them about you. They too are thankful for protecting me." Gabrielle then introduced the gentle giant to her family. Just like us, they could never thank him enough. It was worth repeating over and over again.
It has been two months since the outbreak began and now, the beginning of the end is about to begin. We however could only wish she was safe. We still did not have information regarding her status. The Consulate General of the Philippines here in Honolulu was currently in contact with the emergency government set up in Baguio City where the Duterte administration evacuated as Manila became a nightmare. We heard over the FEMA and independent radio stations that Manila and the surrounding metro was targeted by the bioweapon to make reclamation of the capital easier. Major cities around the world apparently received the same treatment. Duterte was initially displeased that the Americans and not the Chinese did it, but was persuaded by the Secretary of National Defense and surviving members of the Philippine Congress to do so for the sake of the country. All of us here found it funny.
After dinner, we then exchanged some gifts that we got for a good sale price on non-essential items. I got a blanket, a headset, some clothes, a SAS survival book, a beanie, and a 3 x 5 ft state flag of Hawaii. The SAS survival book was given from Mike while the flag was given from Gabrielle. My fellow survivors also got The Zombie Survival Guide and The Zombie Combat Manual which became hot sellers once more.
"I know you like to collect flags Gill so I got it for you." Gabrielle said.
"Another one for my collection. Thank you my dear." I said, kissing her in the cheek.
I then took out a wrapped box. "Here, this is for you." I said as I handed it to her.
She opened it and held the broken jar I mixed with golden lacquer a few weeks back.
"Did you make this?" She asked.
"I fixed it instead and made it look better."
"I like it."
"It is the Japanese philosophy of Kintsugi. It states that there is beauty in imperfection. Just like our current relationship. Full of ups and downs while in the middle of this pandemic. Yet that's what makes it beautiful. I hope this is something you can appreciate."
She smiled and blushed. "Aww, this is so sweet. Thank you!" She replied, kissing me.
Life seemed nice at this point. The pandemic was gone from my thoughts.
***************
We stayed way past midnight playing with the other survivors. We were playing some card games, truth or dare, and drinking some alcohol. It felt great staying here with my girlfriend cuddling me as we played and bonded with the others. Man, I wish this moment would last forever.
"You both are avoir un cœur d' artichaut." Jules said, laughing.
"What does that mean, Frenchie?" Gabrielle asked, smiling and laughing too as she continued to cuddle into me.
"English. Well it means to be hopelessly romantic." Jules replied.
Of course, everyone just laughed at this point. "Enjoy while it lasts Gill." I said, looking over at Gabrielle as she leaned on me. My friends found it cute the way she acts clingy towards me. Yet at the same time, I can't wait go back home and I know Gabrielle would like to know what of her younger sister's status.
"Patience...patience is a virtue." I said to myself.
Truth be told, I did miss home, my family, my friends, and all of Cebu. I just hope they are doing well right now.
***************
Author's Notes:
- Yes releasing a Christmas episode on Halloween. Strange isn't it? Since tomorrow is Halloween, I will release three chapters to make up for my abscence. The story is already 70-80% done.
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ukron
Commander
"Beware of the French"
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Post by ukron on Jul 30, 2022 12:20:36 GMT
Chapter 103: The Day of The Living
World
Post-December 25, 2018
"Thousands of tanks, IFVs and troops have landed in southern Taiwan in order to consolidate ROC Marines and their defense of Kaohsiung. It seems that the new "hit and run" tactics add to their own putrefaction have made "Infected" numbers dropping significantly. Taiwanese high command is optimistic about their capacity to reach Taipei pocket in the next weeks."
Everywhere around the globe, resistance and sacrifice have paid off.
Mankind has gone on the offensive .
Everywhere, the infected began to deteriorate and rot on their own. The bombs, the shells, the bullets and the blades finishing the work. The fate of humanity was no longer at stake, that of the infected on the other hand.
The flesh-eating bacteria had been the supreme weapon. How a bacterium developed for theoretical research could have been modified in a few weeks by specialists grouped in icy undergrounds of Colorado, the vast secrets within the Urals and the Swiss Alps would be a favorite subject for dozens of books, films and documentaries in the future, just as did the Manhattan Project in its time.
But the fate of thousands, millions of lives were played on unusual battlefields.
"We will fight them on the beaches of Dover!" could have said the thousands of survivors of the Queen's Royal Irish Hussars. On the snow-capped mountains of Tibet where Nepalese, Indian, Chinese and Pakistani soldiers ardently defended roads, to die of in the thousands of refugees. In the Polish forests where NATO troops are gathering for the liberation of Warsaw and Krakow, bloody ruins of Saint Petersburg where the Russian resistance challenged every inch with guns dating back to World War II, knives, farming equipment, and even the aging T-34 and T-26. Every meter was paid by the stinking hordes.
It was reported everywhere from Malaysia to Peru, via Greece that whole groups, assembled by radio and social networks armed sometimes with shotguns or edged weapons began the long and tedious operations of "cleaning" behind the lines.
The War was turning definitively in favor of Man.
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stevep
Fleet admiral
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Post by stevep on Jul 31, 2022 11:13:29 GMT
Chapter 100: Buried
December 20, 2018 (Z-Day + 64)
Not so far of Tirana, AlbaniaAltin Ahmedi isn't so brave that he assumed but in those conditions, who would teach him a lesson? Altin wasn't a soldier nor a warrior. He is or was (as Albania main occupation is now to survive without international relief) a 25 year old arts student. In a sense, his studies had saved his life. If they hadn't pushed him to find a small job to support himself as much as his grandmother's, he would never have found this job guide in the old bunkers of the Hoxha era. These monstrous constructions seemed to affirm the power and the resolution of the regime, long gone, to maintain itself against and against all. Against the West, against the Soviets, and even against the Albanian people. When the crisis of the 1990s and 2000s passed, the gigantic armored doors closed on the secrets, the grudges and the remorse of a whole period. Europe reached out its hand and the economy recovered finally for a time. Altin stands caulked in one of the old rooms, recently opened to the public, especially foreigners, in order to encourage tourism. At least there is a bed, some food, a map of the underground networks and enough fuel to heat and light up. The young man thinks of his grandmother, if she is still alive, if she thinks of him or if she has turned into one of his creatures because he abandoned her. He cries (his cries are blocked by the icy concrete walls). He also thinks back to the group of survivors piled up by the soldiers in a bus and coldly shot because probably infected. The long fumes tearing from the carcasses of ships bombed by the Navy, the cries of dying cut to pieces. He also thinks of this child, barely 7-8 years old who crossed paths with him trying to reach the entrance to the bunker. He was dragging himself pitifully on his two bloody legs, pieces of which he was missing. His gaze and his white eyes lightning the soul of Altin. The latter grabbed an aspirin tablet...his headache did not weaker...well on the contrary...damn icy corridors... The young student's mind is tormented between a fairly obvious guilt and a kind of self-gratification. Yes he had survived. Yes he had escaped the Infected who had devoured his comrades, his friends, his teachers. He had escaped the bullets of the soldiers and the bombs of the planes. He was not a warrior. He was only a poor art student from Tirana, finishing his ends of the month by walking big German or Italian tourists in old ruins that nobody wanted to talk about anymore...was it a crime? Should everyone rise up and challenge oppression and injustice? He doesn't know..no he doesn't want to know. Altin's guilt made him suffer less, his bite in the leg as well.
Well that was a grim description of survivors guilt and the stress that many will feel as they come through. Then it got even darker at the end.
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ukron
Commander
"Beware of the French"
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Post by ukron on Aug 6, 2022 14:15:09 GMT
Chapter 104: Aud Lang SyneHope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, 'it will be happier'
- Alfred Lord TennysonDecember 31, 2018 (Z-Day + 68, 11:45 pm)
Hilton Hawaiian Village
Waikiki Beach
Honolulu, HawaiiWhen I opened the door the room, I was stunned to see my girlfriend dressed in a pink gown. I was speechless at first. She really looks blooming in it. I really do like her sense of fashion. "How do I look?" Gabrielle asked. "Beautiful as always. Come in." I replied. "Aweee thanks boo." She then kissed me in the cheek. **************************** Hawaii is the last state of the United States to celebrate New Year's Eve. All the regions namely the East Coast, Central, Mountain, West Coast, and Alaska already welcomed 2019. We only heard from the FEMA radio that celebrations were small-scale throughout refugee camps and safe-zones. For the first time since it began in 1907, the Times Square Ball Drop was postponed as New York was overrun with those monsters and mostly abandoned save for some roving groups of survivors fighting out there like The Division. Instead, we were shown aerial photo of survivors reenacting their own Ball Drop as form of symbolism that it continues despite the pandemic. In our place, well its the same as Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Food and drinks were set-up whilst music played in the background. The state government in conjunction with the U.S. Navy permitted the use of fireworks. The mood in our room was great. We all looked forward for a hopeful 2019. Reports over the emergency radio said that the most hopeful estimate is that most of the Infected would have died out by the middle months of next year. Honestly, I just really want to go home and see if my family and friends made it safely. I could say the same thing for Mike and Spencer while obviously Gabrielle just wants to see her younger sister once again. My parents had no contact with me since I left last October. I have been gone for two months now and it will be three by tomorrow. I'm still hopeful and optimistic that things are alright on the other side of the globe. There were 15 minutes to midnight. Everyone is just chilling and passing the time. For our Marine friend Trevor, he was lucky to be on leave so he could celebrate with us. "Glad you could make it, mate." Spencer said. "Yeah, my leave was approved." Trevor replied. "Here my friend." Jules offered me a drink. "What's this?" I asked. "Vodka with orange juice." The French replied. "Mercí." I replied, chugging the drink down. I then went over the table where some hard drinks were placed. There my girlfriend was taking sips of the brandy and taking some lemon and salt. "Whoah, easy there Gabrielle. It's not yet even midnight." I said. "Try some." She said, offering me a shot of brandy. "This isn't my type you know but eh whatever." The bitter taste caught me off-guard. I then sat down and grabbed a bottle of Heineken. Taking a sip, it was able to take out some of the bitter aftertase. "Much better." I said. The next 15 minutes was spent talking with my girlfriend while the rest enjoyed and partied. Jules took some pictures using Gabrielle's polarouid. "Memories made guys." He said. "Important we don't forget each other." "You know what the world may be recovering and it's a long way but you know, I'm happy you're here Gabrielle." I said. "I feel the same way Gill. Never a dull moment with you." She replied. By now we only had two minutes to midnight. Everyone started heading to the balcony. As we walked, she held my hand. I looked to my left and my right and saw other guests and refugees pouring towards their respective balconies looking towards Waikiki Beach. "First New Year's Eve together huh?" I said. "Yeah and it feels great." Two minutes became one minute which became 30 seconds. We could all hear the countdown of the people from the balconies. We both held each other close. Twenty...nineteen...eighteen...seventeen...sixteen...fifteen...fourteen...thirteen...twelve...eleven...ten... "Brace yourself folks." I told my friends. Nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...one...HAPPY NEW YEAR!  The fireworks lit up the sky in a mix of red, yellow, orange, purple, pink, and green. At the moment zero hit, the two of us faced each other, pulled each other's faces closer, and then kissed each other. My first New Year's kiss in a quiet a lifetime and I feel like I'm not in this world anymore. "Happy New Year Gabrielle!" I said. "Happy New Gill!" She replied. "Hey Happy New Year dude." I patted my best friend Mike. "Likewise dude." I then greeted the others with them returning the favor. Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne? Everyone then embraced each other before gathering for a group hug. "I'm really glad I met you people." Angela said. "I'll never forget all of you." Jules said. "The French government announced they would be evacuating stranded French citizens from Hawaii. Similar evacuations are already taking place. I have a duty to my country. Reclaim it back from the Infected "Strange huh, running away from those Infected to finally settling here." I replied. For auld lang syne, my jo, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp! And surely I'll be mine! And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. "Here's to a hopeful 2019." The fireworks continued blaring in the background as we enjoyed the night and slept around 3 AM. **************************** Author's Notes: - This scene was inspired from this chapter of chipperback's Land of Flatwater - Protect & Survive in Middle America. As promised, I released three chapters just in time for the Halloween season.
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ukron
Commander
"Beware of the French"
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Post by ukron on Aug 6, 2022 14:16:12 GMT
Chapter 105: Duty Calls
It's been a long day without you, my friend
And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again
We've come a long way from where we began
Oh I'll tell you all about it when I see you again
When I see you again
Wiz Khalifa - See You Again ft. Charlie Puth
January 12, 2019 (Z-Day + 80, morning)
Daniel K. Inouye International Airport
Honolulu, Hawaii
The airport was heavily guarded by elements of the HPD, the National Guard, Marines, and the Department of Homeland Security. While mainstream air travel was not yet restored by the FAA, the airport was opened for civilian evacuation flight of stranded foreigners. The British, French, Australians, and the New Zealanders were the first to restore contact with Hawaii and chartered several passenger planes to ferry stranded citizens to the nearby rally places.
Jules was accompanied by his friends - fellow survivors - as they exited the bus into the entrance of the airport. The line was long as stranded Aussies, Brits, French, Kiwis, and other Commonwealth citizens were thoroughly screened once more, just in case of them was Infected. There were representatives from each consulate assisting in the evacuation. Jules felt a bit sad knowing he would leave behind the friends he made. For the past three months he sure made a lot of memories and moments together. When they were not surviving against the Infected or hostile survivors, they were bonding like teenagers or adolescents from playing video games, card games, and drinking sessions. Now he would take the long journey back to France with his patriotic duties kept in priority. The French were evacuating their stranded citizens to their Pacific territories while any British or Commonwealth citizen would be temporarily housed in Australia or New Zealand.
"This is it. Farewell my friends." Jules said as he placed his luggage. He then embraced everyone of his friends.
"Merci guys. Thanks for everything." He said.
"Thank you Gill." The Frenchman added.
"Thank you too Gabrielle. You're like a big sister to me now."
"Aww that's so sweet." Gabrielle replied, blushing a bit.
"I'll never forget the memories we spent together. I'll never forget meeting you Mike, Spencer, Angela, and Trevor. Now it is time for me to go. I know Jim couldn't go today but tell him thank you for rescuing me as well."
"Sure thing buddy." Trevor replied.
The group embraced one last time. Then they asked a random tourist to take their picture using Gabrielle's polaroid camera. She gave one copy to Jules.
"Keep it, as good luck charm." She said.
"Mercí." The Frenchman replied. "I must go now." He said as he turned his back. The group all said their goodbye.
"Au revoir, my friend." Spencer said.
"Man, I can't wait if it's our turn to go home." Mike said. "I miss the Philippines already."
************************
Jules entered the airport where he was screened by the DHS along with the French citizens there. They were then led by a representative from the French consulate in Honolulu to a shuttle designated for the Air France that was flying back-and-forth from Papette to Honolulu. The representative first asked who had military experience or were active/reservists caught at the time of the outbreak.
"My name is J.L. (name redacted). Reservist, French Army." Jules said, handing his French passport to the representative. Other French people who claimed to have military experience followed suit.
"Very well. Follow me."
They boarded the shuttle to the airbus.
Jules seated at the window seat, next to a mother with her young child. Jules smiled at the child. It brought him hope that one day the human race will purge the Infected and the virus for good. He stared at the window, excited to see French Polynesia for the first time.
"A great way to spend a holiday once more." He said. "Though I wish I could visit at better times."
The pilot then said over the PA in French.
"Ladies and gentlemen. We are about to take-off. Please fasten your seatbelts, tray tables closed, windows open, and overhead cabins closed."
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ukron
Commander
"Beware of the French"
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Post by ukron on Aug 6, 2022 14:17:32 GMT
Chapter 106: Liberation Day
Liberation Day
January 12, 2019 (Z-Day + 80)
Honolulu, HawaiiJules swallowed a little when the heavy airbus tore off the runway from the Honolulu airport. The American vacation ended on a completely unpleasant note: Dylan was dead without having been able to return to France. His body had remained on a foreign soil and a deep feeling of abandonment and betrayal crossed the mind of his friend...abandoning the body of his comrade was a deep betrayal for a French soldier. In another sense, surviving would allow him to find his family and that of Dylan and explain to them that his friend's sacrifice had not been in vain. The young Frenchman sighed as dozens of other passengers, Europeans trapped in Hawaii at the start of the outbreak. They looked at him with surprise and maybe a little worry, it had to be said that a young man barely out of adolescence wearing a uniform of the Marines, gift of this USMC friends, was certainly not the most common thing to see. Jules was thinking with a touch of sadness to his new friends, to Jim who had saved his life and remained amputated for life, to Gillan and the other Filipino and to his bravery and his touching honesty. He hoped to be able to see them again one day; the day all of these zombies will be destroyed. He looked at the polaroid photo Gabrielle handed over to him. She told him to keep it as a good luck charm. Roughly 80 days of bonding with a group of survivors he barely new. Friendships and memories were made in the most unexpected way possible. Jules found the thought crazy. Surely we are not the only people in the world to have this crazy story right? He thought to himself. Fatherland and duty called him. The fight raged in all the provinces of France, from Guyana to Brittany and all the men, women were enlisted for the ultimate defense. Jules had been able to hear from his family, who had managed to escape from the hell of the cities to reach the fairly relative calm of the Morvan. Other news came from his friends and comrades on the progression of the infection. It was high time to go home. Roughly five hours later, the plane was nearing French Polynesia. Jules starred at the window and the islands, it's patches of green surrounded by light blue waters surrounded by even dark blue of the Pacific.  "What a magnificent sight." Jules thought. He wished he could go here for vacation one day. As the plane approached how, Jules starred the beautiful sight of the beautiful atoll only a few Frenchmen could ever hope to have gone in their lifetime. Hao Air Base, French Polynesia When the Airbus landed on the disused runway of Hao, Jules had overcome his doubts and fears. He looked over the ocean and the thought of traveling over 5,000 miles within the Pacific hit him hard. He still was at a loss of words and thoughts over it. That would not be counting his flight to Los Angeles from Paris and his escape to San Diego. This distance would soon be dwarfed as he would return to France. He presented himself to the French officers present and stated in a resolute tone: "CaporaL l. from 2th Hussards Regiment. Ready to go home, sir ".
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ukron
Commander
"Beware of the French"
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Post by ukron on Aug 6, 2022 14:18:22 GMT
Chapter 107: Birthday on Front Line
February 10, 2019 (Z-Day + 116)
Paris, FranceMaster Corporal L. 20 years this day, can't wait to remove the heavy helmet that had been wrapped around his head for several days now, the uniform spotted with mud and melted snow contrasted with the white bite protection on his forearms. the long brown boots contrasted with this motley and dirty uniform but very useful against the thousands of Z who continued to survive in certain buildings and basements of the French capital. The flight from French Polynesia back to France was long. He could remember the stopovers at Australia, Cyprus, and finally the island of Corsica where he was immediately inserted into the troop ships that would begin the reclamation of the country. He thought back the at trip, which was probably the longest back home in all of his friends he met in California. He felt like the character from Around the World in 80 Days. Coincidentally, the day he arrived in French Polynesia was the 80th day of the pandemic. His first stop was in Toulon. The city was a strategic target for the French Armed Forces as it housed a naval base for the Navy's Mediterranean Fleet. The base had been evacuated as the city fell to the Infected. Reclaiming it mean a steady flow of supplies would be coming from Corsica. From there, they army would be divided to the northeast to take Marseille and to the west to reclaim Nice, thus clearing the French Riviera of numbers of the Infected. The Master Corporal had heard of the merciless fighting of the cold catacombs where the Zs had continued to retain all their mobility. At least the sewers with their stench and heat had contributed to the destruction of most of the bodies of the Infected. The great campaign for the liberation of Paris was one of his battles mixing the excitement of danger with total boredom in barracks or on board one of the patrol vehicles, generally a VAB (Armored Forward Vehicle) (1) where suffocate from heating or the smell of sweat. The Corporal was no longer afraid, no longer from California and his flight through the megalopolis of LA, no longer since the battle against the looters of Dijon, no longer since the destruction of the city of Metz. France was barely standing up and thousands of conscripts, sometimes barely 16 years old, were involved in the war effort. These 21st century "Marie Louise" (2) had proved their values in battles where even the most hardened soldiers would have been worried. When the French government had finally decided to use biological weapons against the Zs, the reconstruction could have started, many more people had survived than one would have thought, every day, the Army found people trapped in basements, sewers or forests. The army had suffered so much at the start of the crisis, that weapons as old as the Second World War had been put back into service, sometimes even more effectively than modern weapons. The Master Corporal for example could not have imagine going without his faithful MAS-49 (3), when others used STENs or MP-40s, generally recovered in museums or collector's items. There were even reports of reviving old tanks to soldiers using crossbows and swords dating back to the French revolution. The Master Corporal was proud to be a hardened veteran in one of the most unlucky units in the entire French army. The cleaning teams ... a thankless and dangerous task worthy of the battle of Stalingrad or Berlin. Each team comprised of 5 to 6 members. They entered buildings in unsecured areas and proceeded with the elimination of the infected. Sometimes the mission could take a favorable turn with infected stuck in stairs or half-rotten, sometimes could take much less pleasant turns with a mass of 20 to 30 infected stranded in apartments and ready to fall on you from the floors from above. After a small mission in an apartment, the Corporal only dreams of taking off his helmet, taking a shower and sleeping, but a pleasant surprise awaited the Corporal. "Chef?" (Sir?) asked a female voice. "Oui, qui a t'il, Caporal?" (Yes, what is going, Caporal?) "replied the noncommissioned officer. The Corporal was in this case a young and pretty brunette of 18 years called Hélène, one of his' Marie-Louise'. From what he understood, the girl had miraculously survived when the medical campus where she was studying had was compromised by the Infected. She had only a rage and a calculating instinct to survive. Her beautiful, balanced face was partly spoiled by the Kevlar helmet and the traces of mud. But our hero continued to find pleasant to look at her, at the same time he was convinced that the young woman found her hierarchical superior quite agreeable. When all this was finished, he would not fail to try to determine if it was indeed true he liked to think. "Joyeux Anniversaire! Chef" she said with a happy smile and a blink. "Merci Beaucoup Caporal (with a cheerful smile) et maintenant préparez vous, on a encore du pain sur la planche" (Thank you very much Corporal and now get ready, we have a job). It was not yet time to relax, victory was near.  (1): VAB : The Véhicule de l'avant blindé or VAB ("Armoured vanguard vehicle" in French) is an armoured personnel carrier and support vehicle designed by Renault of France. It entered service in 1976; around 5,000 were produced. As of 2019, it is the standard APC of the French Army and has also been exported to more than 15 countries. It saw combat in various conflicts in Africa, Asia and Europe. (2): "Marie Louise": Marie-Louise is a term used to refer to the last conscripts raised in the First French Empire, raised for Napoleon's army. The name derived from Empress Marie-Louise who issued decrees dated 9 October 1813 ordering the conscription of 280,000 men but it has been extended more widely to those that served as conscripts between 1813 and 1815. Men were required at this stage of the war to defend against an anticipated invasion of north-east France by the Sixth Coalition. Owing to a manpower shortage the conscription was extended for the first time to those aged 18 and those as short as 5 feet 1 inch (1.55 m) for the first time. 3):MAS-49: The MAS-49 is a French semi-automatic rifle that replaced various bolt action rifles as the French service rifle that was produced from 1949. It was designed and manufactured by the government-owned MAS arms factory. The MAS-49 semi-automatic rifle was produced in limited quantities (20,600 units), whereas the shorter and lighter variant, the MAS-49/56, was mass manufactured (275,240 units) and issued to all branches of the French military. Overall, the MAS-49 and 49/56 rifles gained the reputation of being accurate, reliable and easy to maintain in adverse environments. All the MAS-49 and 49/56 rifles feature a rail on the left side of their receivers to accommodate a designated rifle scope. The MAS-49 and MAS-49/56 were replaced as French service rifles by the FAMAS assault rifle in 1979.
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stevep
Fleet admiral
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Post by stevep on Aug 7, 2022 11:12:31 GMT
Looking more promising although everywhere have taken huge losses and its going to take generations to rebuild even the least affected countries, especially demographically. Plus its probably going to be a long, long if not perpetual task keeping an eye out for new infections. Isolated zombies could always trigger new outbreaks.
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ukron
Commander
"Beware of the French"
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Post by ukron on Aug 26, 2022 17:09:23 GMT
Troubled Waters - New Orleans (LA) Part 11 : Bloodbath and Purity
October 21, 2018 (Z-Day + 4)
Outskirts of New Orleans
Mikey was not a genius. Not an asshole but someone simple enough who liked simple things. Maybe until now it had helped him to survive. When Mikey heard of this new disease, he shrugged and went back to his chair in the house he shared with his mother. Many would have said that the naivety and the kindness of this obese African-American would have made anyone smile. His jokes a little vulgar, his way of never worrying, all this led to think that Mikey was a unique person and even quite essential. But the epidemic had changed everything, the death of his mother, the destruction of his house, his neighborhood, his city had changed everything and Mikey's sympathetic and comforting side had turned into a sadistic and icy rage, taking a taste of his crimes, almost washing himself in the blood of his victims. The situation changed forever when the Klansemn's K-Bar blade cut his throat while a powerful hand blocked his mouth preventing him from making the slightest sound.
David was no longer the kind of person to be moved by the blood. He had seen so much of it, dried puddles on the Kuwaiti desert, variegated spots during the bar fights to the sound of Johnny Rebel. To tell the truth, David would have had no trouble believing that blood was a kind of comfort. Each time the blood of an enemy from white America was shed, it was one more step for the liberation of the country. It must be said that the last days had been rich; so much so that the Liberation was to be imminent!
The corrupters of the federal government and the agents of the plot had to fall for a new America to emerge. The attack on this looters' camp was just one more step before the new American confederation could take off.
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Jonah ran for cover with the flames and the cries of distress of the dying followed by the dry detonations of the weapons of the klansmen frightened him to such an extent that he would prefer to escape from the ruins of his house surrounded by the zombies than live this moment. The tranquility and the relative torpor of the forest had been disturbed in an instant by the irruption of about thirty white men heavily armed and determined not to make any survivor. Jonah ran towards the only person, who could help him to escape. The only person who had shown him any kind of sympathy and compassion was a Russian man tied up in the bottom of an old shack.
Karpov, although diminished by the fever, had understood very well that the camp of his tortionaires were attacked by very human enemies. From what he heard the situation was very favorable to the attackers and it was evident from the noise of the detonations that these did not bother with the prisoners. The soldier's instinct that Karpov was awakened and his muscles bandaged.
He waited for the fateful moment when he should fight...
...but instead, the door opened and the frightened figure of Jonah appeared.
"Klansmen! They've attack us!" The teenager shouted.
"Quick, untie me!" Karpov ordered.
The teenager did not have a single moment of hesitation and cut the ties of Russian with an old rusty agricultural tool.
"Thank you, let's get out of there quickly."
The two looked for an opening of a discrete exit when the sound of gunfire had stopped and the sound of the Klansmen's boots was approaching the hut far too quickly.
"There, we can pass the ground." pointed the teenager. The boards wormed by humidity and termites were easily breakable, allowing the former prisoner and his jailer to escape by crawling.
David was sure to have heard noise from the side of the hut.
Would one of the looters have tried to escape the noble duty of the men of the South?
David could not believe it. He was even more surprised when he came face to face with Karpov getting up, the latter having in his hand a rusty object but still quite sharp.
David was very divided on the idea of death, especially on his own...a kind of appeasement mixed with a black rage to have seen his weapon stolen. A deep fear had given way to a misunderstanding, when the blood was flowing, is that what it means to die? Perhaps thought the Klansman a few seconds before leaving the hell of the earth definitively.
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ukron
Commander
"Beware of the French"
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Post by ukron on Aug 26, 2022 17:11:04 GMT
Chapter 108: Enjoy the War, Peace is going to be a nightmare
February 27, 2019 (Z-Day + 123)
Paris, FranceMaster Caporal Jules was just sitting in front of the old AMX-30 MBT. The steel monster exuded a kind of force, even when stationary, which radiated around. Almost everything you were safe from everything and anything in a similar machine. No more bites, no more blood...just the smell and the comforting heat of being one in a fortress in a raging storm. The master corporal knew that the French Army had brought out his old Cold War AMX-30s to garnish the front ... they were not the only ones, the Texas National Guard had used M60 and M47 Patton to crush the hordes of Houston. The Paraguyans continued to use their 70 year old Shermans and Stuarts as bulldozers while the Russians do not even bother with technical details since even T-34 had been converted into a cleaner, with anti-mine rollers and barbed wire, the Z had no chance. Today the young non-commissioned officer was looking for a bulwark against the world of men. The big demonstrations on rationing had degenerated and they had to fire in support of some members of the police. Nothing was dirtier than "public safety" missions. Of course food had to be rationed to all survivors, but how to convince people who had lived in opulence that they had to be content with a little bread and dried meat for now, especially when the President announced that the crisis was "over". "What an asshole." the young soldier had spoken publicly. The end of time was over and old conflicts mixed with new ones: the Indo-Pakistani committee held out as long as thousands of Z continued to roam the deserted streets of Lahore and Calcutta, as well as in Israel where the IDF soldiers who had contributed to lifting the siege of Ramalah. First perceived as heroes were again seen as oppressors. Maybe the NCO was just too naive to believe the world was getting better. At least he had learned of his new Filipino friends coming home and their work to rebuild their nation, like when Manila had to be rebuilt in 1946. His friends from the Philippines had written to him about World War II in their own country. Jules could relate, as his own country had a similar experience under Hitler's war machine. The Corporal was just bitter. "The world should change." He told himself. "After all, we couldn't always escape from a pandemic worthy of mass extinction." If the world didn't want to change, well the non-commissioned officer would make him change. Je and the others, he and his Filipino friends, he and his friends in the Army. After all all had their say, all had a reason to survive...hope. The young man left his chair and took an old notepad, he started to write ..to write the story of these survivors, these miraculous, of the War {Spoiler: Worldwide}"The Dead war" as it had been called had cost the lives of more than 650 million people in the world. It took the efforts and the sacrifices of all the nations and of all the peoples regardless of race, creed, religion, and political beliefs to succeed in saving humanity of its extinction. The theme of hope is directly lifted up from SEGA's arcade game shooter known as The House of the Dead. In that game, the world "hope" springs throughout the entire franchise.
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ukron
Commander
"Beware of the French"
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Post by ukron on Aug 26, 2022 17:12:55 GMT
Intermission #14: Diary of Heather Parks
October 2, 2018
Same stuff, different day. Report to work and look up on patients. Nothing really significant has occurred. We get the common patients from accidents to those in need of assistance such as those with a congenital diseases. I am loving my job despite how tiring it is. Nursing was always my dream and I see it as a rewarding career since I get to assist patients in need of care. I am looking forward to becoming the head nurse of this station in the future.
October 5, 2018
Another day in the office. My shift was nothing of significance. However, we got some memo about a possible disease emerging somewhere in China. The head of the hospital said he was in contact with CDC officials in Atlanta. They are currently looking into it. I hope its nothing serious. I still remember the 2009 Swine Flu as well as the 2014 MERS-COV and the Ebola epidemic. Oh well, time to discharge my duties as a primary healthcare provider.
October 10, 2018
Ok, so stuff today was really weird. We got six patients that needed emergency treatment. They were reportedly attacked by "druggies" as they described it. We checked the wounds and it was terrible. We thought of it was the common gun shot or stab wounds. To my surprise, as well as my coworkers, it was neither. It was bites! Some even had a huge chunk of flesh removed. It reminded me of the Miami Zombie Incident in 2012. We don't what shit is going besides that some of these attackers were high on drugs. The police has been deployed on to interview these victims.
October 11, 2018
Something strange is going on. More of these victims have came in today. The police are saying there is drug epidemic. We are currently unsure if these are connected to the ongoing disease in China. So far, it has been listed as "isolated". Thank God! We can't afford another pandemic. I hope the police get to the bottom of these drug epidemic. Seriously? What do these low life people have in their minds? No, I shouldn't say this. They are still people. They need help.
However, the first victims from yesterday all died. They all displayed fever before going into shock. Some even started bleeding from their noses. It was an eerie scene. We were not even allowed to go in as men in hazmat suits came to dispose of the bodies. Something wrong is going on. They said they were from the CDC. The bodies were taken to the morgue and we were not allowed to enter it. Worse, it is even on armed guard. What the fuck is going on?
October 12, 2018
I have feeling this is drug epidemic is not isolated anymore. It has been reported in Oregon, Washington State, Utah, Nevada, and Arizona. That gives us six states in total. The CDC apparently handed out memos but they were to be read by hospital directors. More police have been deployed to hospitals to check on the victims. Why are they deployed armed guards on hospitals? I never believed in those zombie apocalypse fiction. Hell, I don't even watch The Walking Dead. It's a thing of fiction that only nerds and gamers would love to indulge on. However, this is very strange. I hope I'll be alright. I got to call my parents and tell them I am fine.
On the news, both India and Turkey are reporting random cases of violence. My bets are off these aren't connected to what's going in China or here in the U.S.
October 14, 2018
My fears have been confirmed. After how many days of silence, the CDC and WHO finally released the memo for us all health care providers. These patients that came days ago were infected by a new strain of virus. Though no one can identify the cause, it has been speculated to be mutated form of rabies. Word should not reach outside in order to prevent a panic. The memo mentioned about moving the recently deceased away from masses of congregation as their bodies are considered a biohazard. Cremation should be done as early as possible. The pathologist has submitted samples to those CDC personnel that are present in the hospital. I should tell my parents to get the hell of out of Los Angeles as I have bad feeling panic will eventually break out. I know the CDC and the WHO cannot hide this forever.
October 15, 2018
I felt light headed today. I don't even know if I am in bad dream or not. Today, I witnessed my first case of reanimation. It was freaky and magnificent at the same time. The patient was attacked by one those druggies and expired quickly from bloodless. We couldn't treat him on time. He flatlined before we could see the wound. Then all of a sudden, the man stood up and attacked us. Unfortunately, two doctors, a nurse, and a hospital security guard were bitten today and had to be isolated along with the rest of the patients reporting similar cases. The ICU was now guarded by the CDC and SWAT personnel. As for the patient, the security guard tried to restrain him but that caused him to be bitten. He tried pepper spray and his stun gun but that did nothing to him. In a desperate struggle, the guard used his baton and accidentally cracked the skull of the patient. The patient "died" for the second time. What was strange was when the patient reanimated, the ECG showed a flatline.
This is it I guess. Zombies are real and are attacking us. I was at disbelief at first. How could a thing of fiction become a reality all of a sudden?
Over the news, there were reports of random attacks occurring throughout Los Angeles. While this was occurring, several gangsters began rioting in the South Central, using the chaos as an excuse to loot around or just commit acts of disobedience. Elsewhere around the country that are not affected by this novel virus, things seem to be in normal business. Even here in Hollywood, celebrity buzz is still afloat. The main headlines right now are Brett Kavanaugh's controversial confirmation at Supreme Court in D.C. and the migrant caravan heading towards Mexico. Even funnier is the President has blamed these attacks on illegal immigrants. Has no one told that orange man in the White House about the virus? What the hell is the HHS Secretary telling him even? Or is he simply in denial? Some countries I heard are even mobilizing their armed forces such as Austria and Switzerland. I guess they are taking this threat seriously even though it has not reached their shores.
At this point, I just want to go home and be with my parents right now. But I have a duty to help patients and I will do it till the end. I am a nurse after all.
October 16, 2018
It's all but hopeless now. I lost a count of the amount of patients being brought it. All the same: bites. We tried to save many of them even knowing it was the opposite. We doctors and nurses have the oath to preserve and extend life as much as possible. This is different however. We are outright euthanizing them before they reanimate and become what the CDC as described as the "Infected" or the "Afflicted". Just another way to name the zombies so it does not sound outright silly. Well this whole thing sounds so silly...
Wait, what was that?
Gunshots! Lot's of them along with the mass of screams.
Shit, the police! They are now shooting the patients.
Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!
October 17, 2018
It's past midnight. I am currently stuck here in the maintenance closet. I am alone but it won't stay that way. The monsters are banging on the front of the door. I can hear their ungodly moans. I have barricaded it from the inside so they won't reach me. But I am here and stuck. I have called 911 but the lines are busy. I couldn't even call my parents. The police seem to have abandoned this hospital and have set up a perimeter on the parking lot. I was stuck here because of a stampede as the Infected overrun at the ICU and began spilling on the hallway. I couldn't get out on time. I saw several people getting torn apart by the Infected. Blood...so much blood. It made me sick. I hid here as they came for me. It gave me a few hours of survival but I doubt that. No one knows I am here or even if they do, there is no way they are gonna stage this daring rescue just to save one lonely nurse. If those things out there won't kill me, I'll probably die of starvation.
Oh God, I just hope this is quick.
To my family and friends, I am sorry that I could only do so much. I am nurse and I am happy I discharged my duties until the end of time. Mom, dad, little sis, if you find this diary please forgive me for being not there.
I tried, I really did.
To whoever finds this. Please send this to 4531 Maple Street, Los Angeles, CA, 90017. At least my parents can know how my final moments felt like.
[The remains and diary of Heather Parks, RN, were soon found in August 2019, still in the barricaded maintenance room. Upon discovery by the U.S. military personnel, they found a bottle of pills next to her body. It was deduced Heather committed suicide by drug overdose to end her suffering, possibly fearing the slow process of starvation. Her diary was would be returned to her parents in 2021, who managed to escape to some survivor outpost in the Sierra Nevada mountains. They gave their permission to have her diary entries published in one book detailing various survivor accounts of the Killer Pandemic of 2018.]
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