HvZ: Mission One

Thursday evening: Counterstrike

Our swarms of zombies grew, in a slow, predictable manner. Our prey fell to our tactics, their humanity slowly shed itself under our corrupting touches. Some were turned in mere minutes, others languished in that grey, mottled zone between human and infected, and eventually succumbed and joined the Pounding of Many Feet in the search for more humans.

Like I said before, we were all driven by that dull ache within. That mind-numbing drive to push forward and spread the feeling to more and more. One of us...one of us...And with news of the administration preparing a strike against us, we hunted more fervently than ever, for both humans and information.

By the time evening was starting to chill the air, we had found enough viable information to attempt a counter to the humans' plots. Rumors of some sort of anti-infection device were found to be true. The admin had used a relatively small-radius device, keeping the infected away from a part of a building. That was just a test. We later learned that after they found it successful, the full-sized device was ordered to be flown in to campus via helicopter. There was also a vague time and location, but they were enough to go by.

At 6 p.m. we found a literal army of humans had set up a defense on the Communications Lawn, one of the perceived drop zones for the infernal device. Our own hordes congregated just outside of Parks Hall, crowding around the outcroppings of rocks. (Earlier in the day there was talk of a Rock of Authority being among the outcropping and sculptures here). As more of us gathered, Those That Make Us Chant stood atop the rocks and mounds, and guided us. We all knew that what the humans planned meant to stymy our spread, and that we had to act soon.

Due to the firepower of the humans, Those That Make Us Chant suggested that we should only attack in waves, as a constant attack would expose each of us to a near-lethal amount of darts and their polyurethane. Waves of infected ebbing and flowing would make the humans fearful, is what we were told.

Although the main group of humans massed upon the Comm Lawn, a few keen-eyed infected noticed small groups dispersed along the edges of campus, as if they were looking for something. Thinking they could be signaling reinforcements or obtaining supplies, small hunting packs formed up and sought them out.

Those of us still gathered outside of Parks divided up, and prepared for an assault. Next to Parks Hall we could see the mass of humans on the lawn. They had gathered in two groups,  about half in a tight ball on the actual lawn, and the other half taking the height advantage upon the stairs. As instructed by our peers, we formed long lines of infected, and stormed down the stairs, onto the lawn, and against the humans. Our lines wavered and curved, exposing many to the darts, and as the waves broke, they crashed into the humans on the lawn. Many of us were struck down by darts, but many brought back fresh infected to Parks Hall, where we waited until the side-effects of the darts wore off. Due to the size of our group, the newly-infected were turned quickly, shedding their humanity under our will. They became one of us.

This confrontation showed us how strongly fortified the field was, and we devised a plan to flaunt the size of the field--they couldn't guard it all. From Parks, we dispersed ourselves in small groups, flitting our way around the Comm lawn until we massed as a large column behind the Communications Facility. We anxiously waited, but when we struck from behind, we were deterred and had to retreat back to Parks and regroup. Once we were as one again, we charged the lawn and stairs from the front. We knew we were going to get struck down, but we came back with more fresh kills--I was able to infect a human separated from his guard, and one of the younger infected even managed to claim the Bearded Squirrel Man, the great human strategist. With this kill, we were encouraged and chanted and sang an old song from our human lives: We all live in a yellow submarine--a yellow submarine--a yellow submarine!

As the sky grew darker, the freshly-infected told that the device would be approaching the campus very soon. Together we stood upon the stairs next to Parks, and looked down at the field with yearning. We must have them! As a single group we spilled down the steps and onto the lawn, calmly filing into a long line across the field, and then into a rank of four lines. For a brief moment, the humans and infected stared at each other in the dim light, and chanted and called out to each other. And then, we crashed like a wave on their defenses for one last time. Again, we couldn't overtake them, but we did manage to cut down their numbers.

We jogged, ran, hobbled, and limped back to Parks, many of us drained and tired from the effects of the darts, and that's when we heard it. The helicopter approached the Comm lawn, and the humans still had quite a force to defend the position. Our own numbers were too few, and so we stayed back in the shadows. After a few moments, it was clear what the device was: we all heard a vibration in the air, like far off music, but each of us felt it more. Our infections were driven inward by the pulses and tremors in the air, and we could not stop it. We fled across the campus away from the device and its blasts that caused our infection to burrow and wallow in our chests, but there was no escaping it.

News spread that the device had only been prepped to run for so long. It was estimated that the power source and supplies used would only allow it to oppress us for 17 hours. And so, we went to sleep with the gnawing knowledge that we couldn't strike again until noon--and in our sleep we chanted: 

We accept you, 
we accept you.
One of us, 
one of us.
Gooble-gobble, 
gooble, gobble.