Secara has a minion!

Kiri the Woola

I was 20 when I became an agent for the CIA, black ops kind of stuff, you know. I didn't exist and no one knew my name. Some would say it was depressing the life I led, but I would say it was typical for one like me. I was always getting in trouble as a kid. [Chuckles] I guess you could say it was in my blood, but whatever, you're not here to listen to my sad sob story of a past, you're here for the goods. Right? Yeah, I figured as much.

I can't say there was a dark cloud hanging over the city that day or that there was some kind of mystic omen of what was to come. No, Langley was just plan old Langley that day. Sun was out and kids were playing in the streets while their parents watched TV. Nothing new or strange to make you think that in a matter of time Ground Zero would be Langley itself.

It started out with one of those morons from the pentagon checking out the labs in the CIA. Frakker had to drop one of the damn vials holding the virus and let it shatter everywhere, infecting everyone in the room. No one knew it though. You see, the virus didn't kill people quickly, instead after an hour or so the bastard was burning up with a fever and choking over his big mac in the back of some Mc Donald's like any damned fool could. How could the paramedics have known that the recent increase of patients they were taking to the hospitals were infected with something that theoretically couldn't exist?

After a few hours, screams filled the streets. Those who had proven immune to the airborne virus were being chased by Old Uncle Joe and Cousin Stacy with their fresh want for brains. No one knew or figured you had to shoot these assholes in the head to keep them from biting you. Nor did they think to kill themselves properly after they were bitten, infected by the very virus that was in the air. No, these frakkers were stupid, like they had never seen a zombie movie, or read The Walking Dead. Even comic book nerds didn’t know what the frak to do. Pathetic.

It was then I decided it was time to get my things and go. If there was anything the service taught me it was that I didn’t want to be around when the assholes who started this mess decided to clean it up-- effectively making matters worse. I knew how they would handle something like this and quickly decided it was time to pull off the old escape and disappear plan, funny as it may seem that someone who didn’t exist would have such a plan, you know. But it was then that I got the call.

Kirrien, the voice in my ear during operations, the only damn voice I had been allowed to talk to for the last five years was asking for help-- my help, and damn it all to hell if the dumb bitch didn’t panic and go to work that morning. So there I was, stuck with a choice and frak me if I say so, I didn’t want to go, but I knew I had to before the last damn thing that made me human died with her.

I was fortunate in that she was a secured officer, one of the lucky ones who had a bulletproof panic room. The unfortunate part of it was that it was smack dab in the middle of the building that made the frakking Deaders anyway. Looking back I’d say I pulled off some kind of James Bond shit to get to her in that room, although I’m sure I’m just misremembering it, I may be black ops, but we never get any of the real cool shit like you see in the movies. No instead, I’m sure it was much more like me running my ass off to get Kirrien and hacking and shooting my way through.

Next thing I can remember is that we’re in some stolen millionaire’s jet and flying west and the next day we were in Oregon, where my parents were from. But, it looked like other people had the same plan though, or flew when infected and spread the frakking disease clear across the US.

That’s why we’re here in the warehouse now. Kirrien’s devised some kind of electrical set up from the windmills and we’ve managed to fortify the place pretty damn well, if I say so myself. If any Deaders try making their way in here they’ll find a bullet between their eyes quicker than you’d think. But I’ve been rambling on now and it’s time for us to make a supply run so I’ll be turnin’ this thing off and hoping that if we die, someone will find this tape and maybe, just maybe, they wont repeat our mistakes.

Secara Kythe, signing off.