Thursday, 9 February 2012

Entry 11 - Orders

So the Captain told us about his unit's actions during the fighting in the early days. This included the infamous Romford Massacre that caused so much distrust in the military. I'm not sure why he told us, but I suspect it was some sort of test. If you haven't gathered by now, this news did not bother me that much. A situation can be powerful. Authority can be even more powerful. These are war crimes, I understand, but as I've said before, you can't use the old world's system of morality. I would love to be able to take the moral high ground and judge these soldiers and choose not to stay, but I can’t. Does this mean there are no boundaries for right and wrong? Of course there are. But it would be a mistake to assume their actions were the result of some sort of internal and stable trait. At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe. Perhaps if I can forgive and justify their actions, I can forgive and justify my own.

Thomas does not agree. He took a very anti-military stance after their series of fuck-ups and eventual demise. I think he might have even been a member of the United Britain. He did not look pleased with this information from the Captain but I don’t think he will leave. We have too much to lose here. Food and safety is the pinnacle of existence in these days.

There was one worrying piece of news. Captain and his men are about to start ‘Operation Viperfish’. This involves basically trying to attract a large group of zombies into a small area then bombing it. The goal is to thin the zeds out and make cities safer by drawing the zeds out of dense urban areas. Problem is the Captain is only half the operation. The other half requires the RAF to bomb these areas on the pre-agreed times. With no successful attempts of communication with the surrounding military, they make the risk of creating a giant and incredibly dangerous horde if the bombs never come. I’ve attempted to talk the Captain out of it, but he is insistent on continuing with the operation. If the airfield has fallen, been abandoned or the soldiers don’t carry out their orders, who knows what damage they will do to the survivors of Essex.

Still Surviving,

Monday, 6 February 2012

MILITARY-ONE (3rd entry)

Current Survivors (Left to right): 
Casual Jim
Captain Fuck-You
Doc Runts

REPORT: 100206

It seems our couple of rescuees have settled in nicely. I say rescued. Rescued from what to which I have no idea. We do have a moat-type defence. I feel this trumps all and hasn't been mentioned enough, I must make a mental note to slip it repeatedly into conversation. Otherwise things are very much the same. We are safe here, hidden away (behind a moat). Doc Runts is keen on broadcasting our location on a short wave frequency in an attempt to potentially draw in other survivors. We have plenty of bed space and food to maintain a small group until this thing blows over, but I have refused. New survivors are unknown variables and I’m not keen on the unknown. The current situation dictates the priority of my own personal survival and the survival of the rest of my team. This may sound cold, but I have no interest in rescuing anyone else at this current time. I do not feel dutifully inclined either, as the Doc keeps trying to push on me. I haven’t told him yet, but there are several broadcasts on the airwaves promising secure societies nearby. I am unsure how he will react to this news. 

On another note, I have decided to tell fag-boy and gingerine about our involvements in the military responses to the zombie threat. This includes the Romford massacre. There was a lot of despise for the military, well, in the short time between events and the majority of people being eaten alive. They are welcome to stay, or leave if they wish. If the decide to stay it will be on one condition. This condition is vital, not only for my own well-being, but for the continued survival of the human race as a species: I cut fag-boys hair. I will not be swayed. I will not be bargained with. Begging is useless. I have no mercy for that irritating bundle of cells insulating that boy’s head. I will not spend another day while it watches me from a distance, ever gloating, almost gleefully. If I see one more shimmer from a grease ridden hair particle I fear I may go mad. I will lay all of this on the table before them and see how they react. Time will tell.

Signing off,

Captain Fuck-You


Friday, 3 February 2012

Entry 10 - Morality is a luxury

It's very easy for people to predict how they will react in a situation. God knows I used to do it. It's a bit embarrassing thinking back to all the time I wasted on 'What if?' daydreaming. What if a gunman walked into the door right now? What if someone tried to mug me? What if I had to choose to dive in front of a car to save someone? Of course, the majority of these daydreams ended with me miraculously saving the day in an altruistic and impressive manner while everyone else dithered uselessly. The point is everyone has mental representations how they expect to behave. With astounding accuracy I can tell you these are wrong.

It’s a horrible feeling, the realisation of having a choice of action in a moment of fear. Adrenaline, which you aren’t used to, pumps around your body, making you shake. In your mind you can feel aspects of your beliefs and values literally clashing. The dyadic between right and wrong, violence and passivity, fight and flight begin to shout at each other. What usually happens in moments like these for the inexperienced is... nothing. You freeze. Unable to untangle these thoughts that occur in a split second, no decision is made. The moment then either passes or forces action from you. Either way, this moment will stay with you for the rest of your life, ready to rear its head whenever you begin to feel happy, an ugly reminder of the fragility of your humanity.

I have regrets. They haunt me to this day, and I suspect they will haunt me to my dying breath. Why am I telling you this you may wonder? I feel obliged to inform you. I am a survivor, not a victim. To think otherwise would be a mistake, one that several have made since this outbreak started. I only ask, gentle reader, that you don’t judge me too harshly. Like everyone else, I was inexperienced; I didn’t know how to act. You can’t apply the morality of the pre-apocalyptic world to this new one. It collapsed in on itself so quickly many people died because they couldn’t make the choice they needed to. I managed to make enough to keep myself alive, but sometimes I wish I hadn’t. It’s not easy living with blood on your hands.

Nothing is black or white, nor does anyone have the luxury to decide to be. It was easier to picture things this way, it’s hard to see straight when everything is gray.

Still Surviving,