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Officer Frendly

If You're Reading This, I'm Probably Dead

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3 Weeks After Outbreak (A.O.)

I found granny and grampy, they were wandering around south of their place.  Never met them, but they looked like the people in the pictures my folks gave me.  Aside from the fact that they were walking corpses.  I used the gun, a shovel seemed too impersonal for family.  Who goes around thumping old folks in the head with shovels these days?  Didn't get a chance to bury them, noise drew more, barely made it back to their basement.  A crowd was outside, breathing, slobbing, pushing and shoving at the doors, something drew them off though.  There are more survivors in this tiny village. 

Village with no name, since I don't read Cyrllic, backwards N's and asterisks.  Fuck me. 

I'm pretty well stocked.  My grandparents paranoia won out.  My parents said they were still shell shocked from the Cold War days and were ready for Red Aggression, which is why they never left the Old Country and came to the U.S. to visit.  They were afraid they'd come home and find their home burning or occupied by Red troops.  Shit, right now I'd suck commie dick to get a boat ride home.  

Provisions list - .357 Magnum, rusty hunting rifle, can't tell what it is but it takes .308, a little scared of firing it.  21 rounds for the magnum, 4 rounds for the rifle.  Lots of canned food, jars of preserved vegetables, dry cereals, bags of grains, (don't even know what the fuck to do with these, I'm not a farmer, think I need a mill) don't have a full account of everything, there's too much to bother, at least just for me, don't think I have to ration just yet.  Water's still running, there's a tap in the basement.  Water tastes a little bit like sulfur, likely from a local well.  I can hunker down for quite a while.

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After flipping through several pages of drawings and half assed sketched, including many, many, S's, made from six straight lines and linked together, something just about any 90s kid sketched hundreds of time during classes, a reader would come upon something more than just a bored man passing time. 

9 Weeks A.O.

I can't stop pooping.  God damnit.

9 Weeks 3 Days A.O.

I've stopped pooping.  If you're reading this, ensure that you check the seals on any preserved food you find.  Especially the home made stuff.  I saw a show on how it's done, supposed to boil the water until all the air in the jar escapes, you hear a pop when the jar's sealed.  If you do multiple jars at the same time though, you may not notice that one or two aren't fully sealed and you might give me food poisoning if you fuck it up. 

I've been taking what looks like aspirin after eating what I think was bad zucchini.  The label has a lady smiling on the bottle.  Could be midol.  It's not Flinstone vitamins, I know that much.  Anyway, was bedridden for a couple weeks.  Fever, weak, vomiting, and of course the trots.  Water from the well is brown, nearly out of what I had been stashing.  Something's up.  A bad filter or a broken pump.  I don't know. 

I'm feeling a little better, still a bit jittery.  I've taken stock of my supplies now that I've had to discard a good portion.  Check your cans before you eat.  Anything dented or rusted, toss out, not worth the risk.  If it looks bubbly or has an acidic smell to it, citrusy, it's got to go.  After taking stock I have;

Water - Roughly 3 gallons because fuck the metric system

19 - cans of various vegetables. 

4 - jars of suspicious looking meat and sauce. 

3 - 50 lb. bags of grain (what the fuck do people do with this?  How do I make bread from this?  I suppose I can eat the grains but fuck.)

21 - .357 rounds

4 - rifle rounds. 

Found an old fashioned crank radio, only get about 30 seconds of static after cranking the whore for twenty minutes.  Think the conductor is fucked.  Didn't understand what they were saying the few times I heard anything.  Gonna try and fix this over the next few days, gotta keep busy.  Also putting together a bugout kit. 

Priority now is water and getting my strength back.  Lots of infected outside, I can hear them.  I don't know if they know I'm here or not, nothing's tried to breach the basement entrance in some time. 

I think I'm the last one alive in this village. 

-Al Boyko

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I like it. Other than all the pooping.

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9 Weeks 5 Days A.O.

Pulled the wires from the battery and hooked them up to a couple lengths of copper, used the crank and started a small fire, but that was okay, we have spark.  So it was the battery.  Grandparents had an old PC, useless now.  Cracked that fucker open, pulled the battery from the motherboard.  Lithium.  It's a match for the watch battery in the radio.  Swapped them out and we now have static sports fans.  

It's not all static, emergency broadcasting as well.  Likely directing people to safezones.  I don't know what the hell they're saying though.  Came across a BBC news broadcast, dated from before all this started.  Hell, the World Health Organization was trying to get travel bans in place two days before I flew here.  Nothing much useful.  No news on the Sta-

Okay, had to stop, heard a truck.  A fucking truck.  Loud piece of shit.  But I saw it, it rolled right through the village.  Looked like six people in the back.  They wore masks though.  Not gas masks, or hazmat either.  Masks like...well, shit, they looked like Slipknot.  Assault rifles, military gear.  I got a bad feeling and ducked out of sight.  I don't imagine the Chernarus military has twisted jester masks as standard kits. 

The upside, the truck was loud and it didn't stop.  It seems to have thinned the herd out pretty well.  I saw dozens of infected go lurching after it.  I took my chance, grabbed the wood ax and the magnum.  There's a pump station around the corner, ran to that first.  Well, by run, I clenched my ass tight and prayed that I wasn't seen as I crept toward it. 

The filter was clogged, not uncommon really.  It happens.  Right now though there's no public works people to fix it.  It wasn't clogged with mud or sticks, or any other kind of debris common.  Looked like someone put an arm in blender and poured the contents into the well.  Wasn't pretty, stunk to high hell.  I can only guess that one of those things fell into the well, more than likely several of them, and at least one is stuck on the intake valve.  So the water getting pumped out is contaminated.  Found spray paint in the pump house and sprayed, "Contaminated Water" and drew a Mr. Yuck face beneath that, hopefully they get the message from the side of the building before trying to drink it.  The water should run clear eventually, in a year or so, for now I need a new source. 

There's a pond, that means boiling.  Should be able to find some flexible tubing somewhere here.  Lots of gardens untended in this village.  Might be able to make a desalinator out of garden hose.  It's for saltwater but  boiling the pond water should purify it.  Hell...I could gut these houses and take the gas lines.  Oh remind me, I should go around and turn off pilot lights, don't need a fire to take everything away. 

Anyway, that's stuff for tomorrow.  I imagine that all that work will draw some attention and I'm still a bit weak.  Not sure I can handle more than a handful of infected.  

The radio, yes.  Heard something strange on it.  The broadcaster was speaking in English, I'll write it as best as I can remember.  The accent was really thick but I think I got the gist.  Even though the broadcaster sounded as if he had a fifth of vodka before he started babbling.  

"Nine eleven was a motherfucking inside job.  Steel beams don't melt.  There's no such thing as Santa Claus, Father Christmas, or Krampus.  The Tooth Fairy is a myth.  Just like God.  Jesus won't save you, nor will Allah or Yahweh.  These things, they're all myths, creations, fabrications of delusional minds.  Much like the reports that I have to read to you.  The world needs to know.  There is no help coming.  The end is night.  This is the end.  This is the end.  This is the end.  Bianca bit me, I'm done for this world.  Armed gunmen are storming this station, they want to silence the truth.  I WILL NOT BE SILENCED!  NO SILENCIO!  THERE IS NO HELP COMING FOR YOU!  NO GOD WILL-" 

The transmission didn't end there, there were shots.  A lot of them.  Semiautomatic weapons.  There was a bit more, not in English.  Didn't understand it.  Then static.  I hope this was a raving madman.  My plans involve staying put until something happens, something changes.  The U.N. has to be coming.  Hell, the U.S. has to be, or Russia for sure.  Humanitarian aid is like dick wagging between the two super powers.  Diseases don't spread quickly beyond a contained area, history has proven that.  Fuck me if that guy was right.  I'm screwed if so. 

I have to believe he was just crazy with grief.  It's only been nine weeks.  Whatever this is, if it's some kind of chemical weapon, or nerve agent, probably has to clear first.  It's been nine weeks.  But it might be long lasting. 

I'm wasting ink and paper.  Help is coming.  Has to be.  

I'll report back tomorrow. 

-Al Boyko

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