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Long Way From Home - Jeremiah Neumann's Journal

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The Journal of Jeremiah Neumann


This journal is carried by Jeremiah wherever he goes. Anyone who searches through Jeremiah's possessions might find this notebook inside.

The First Day


October 19th, 2016 

Just finished the first day in the region. Found the spot they marked on the map, set up camp, scoped out the surrounding areas. Nobody died, so that's good.

I suppose I should start from the beginning, huh?

Decided that we should send a team of scouts before we sent everyone. A few of us - Mikey, Bernie, Hera, Aaron, Andy, Baldur, and myself - we hiked our way up to South Zagoria from the northernmost highway within the region. It was maybe a dozen miles from the landing area, where the Thule is currently, up to where we are now. We've got the rest of the unit - maybe a dozen or so crewmembers, along with the Captain - keeping watch on the ship and the area around it. Anyway, we reached the region today. Headed east, through what I think is called Novaya Petrovka. Checked out the town a bit - couple of nice areas, a bit of infected, couple of possible camp locations should Grisho or whatever not work out. One of the fuckers tried to get at me..

I'm alright though. Only hit my backpack. Lance was right, those things do fucking run. Best way to get around them I think is to just shoot them, with something suppressed of course. That, or try to stay away from them and move quietly within a town.

We grabbed some tents from one of the apartment complexes in Novaya - not sure why there were so many around there.. maybe an abandoned camp? Anyway, we grabbed some supplies and continued east, till we hit the road leading south towards Grisho. Lots of beautiful ranch homes in that area, with plenty of yard for each of the houses. Breathtaking views all the way down that road. Beautiful country, this place is - stark contrast from the refugee camp.

When we finally hit Grisho, we were greeted by a couple other members that lost contact, but knew the coordinates. Brandon, Shane, Sam. the marine.. think his name is Michael? Anyway, we set up camp, pitched the tents, and someone - I think it was Mikey - spotted some hangars maybe a kilometer or two away from camp. We sent another scouting party up to check it out. Turns out there's an airfield up there, seems like a military airfield due to all of the barracks and military-grade tents they've got set up there, but maybe they pitched those all at the start of the infection. Anyway, we split into three teams to cover the left, right, and center, and we spot a couple of survivors in the northernmost part of the airfield, where there was a large collection of tents. These people seemed.. sketchy? Is that the right word to use? They just kept shuffling around, like they were afraid that we were just going to gun them down or something. Not only that, they seemed very suspicious. Like if there were only a couple of us they might have tried something. That kind of sketchy. We let them on their way; didn't want one of them to just start shooting out of fear or something. Legged it back to camp, and that's where I'm sitting now.

The cook, Bernie, got a fire and some food set up for us. Everyone is hanging around the campfire, talking, laughing. Morale is up, that's good. I can't remember the last time I saw Lance smiling. Looks like he's found his niche, maybe, being out here. The marine, Michael, is looking hopeful too. I'm glad I could find those marine BDU's for him, back at the airfield.

I'm sitting in my tent. All I can think about is Lilith.

I wish she were here. All I know is that we have one hell of a job to do to get back to her.

Tomorrow, I think we're gonna have to pay a visit to this 'Camp Hope', see if the doctors there can do anything for Lance. They said they don't have much in the way of medical supplies, but anything is better than nothing, I guess.

So, yeah, guess I'll be writing to you - my journal - because I think of my journal as a living, breathing, object that can respond to what I'm writing - tomorrow. Goodnight.

The Man on the Hill


October 24, 2016

There was a man on the hill. We tracked him about half a kilometer away from Stary. Looked like he was on a suicide mission, rushing at the infected with a submachine gun and spraying down any in his path. He seemed bewildered, unaware of his surroundings, of his situation. We managed to wave him down, get his attention. He turned around, gun in hand, and pointed it at us - Ash and I. He was an Asian fellow, his eyes were bloodshot red, teary-eyed. His breathing was very harsh. Ash tried to calm him down - my rifle wasn't raised, but my finger was on the trigger. Would this be the first time I had to end someone?

His eyes darted around in his head, looked like he was almost entirely gone mentally. At that instant he knelt down and drew his handgun, putting it to his temple. I raised my rifle, screaming at him to stop. Ash tried to run up and pull the gun away, but before he could the barrel far enough away, the man killed himself. Blew his brains out.

At that point, the rest of the team had arrived. We'd already called for backup. I said a prayer for him, and checked him for any intel that might have been valuable. No dice. What did I expect from a deranged individual like that?

I didn't make it halfway through town before vomiting on the road. I called the mission there - pack it up and return to FOB Sierra.

That wasn't the first time that I had experienced that level of disgust. Couple days previous, we took our first scouting mission to the big city - Chernogorsk. We happened upon two mass graves by the International Hotel. I lost my lunch there, too.

People are getting anxious. I think that they think that I'm losing it already. That I'm not fit to lead this expedition.

Maybe they're right. Maybe I do need to step back. Mikey seems like he's fit to lead. That, or the Marine. Maybe that's in the best interest of the group.

Miss you, Lilith.

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Great read ! keep updating +1

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Good stuff so far Mack, keep em coming

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Updated this john, go have a gander

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