My name is Jeffrey Godrick. I've lived through the worst of times, and I can tell you without a doubt that we should all be dead right now. If it wasn't for what happened on that first day, I don't think that there would be any of us around today to finish the job.
The first contact with the infected was when the scientists exited the private jet. I was a luggage mover back in those days. I drove the pack truck up to the cargo bay and was waiting there forever it seemed. They never opened the damn thing up, and I'm glad that they didn't. I was still driving the damn thing when I heard the screams. The flight attendants had been the firsts ones off and they had attacked the airport police almost as soon as the poor fools had the doors open. There was no warning from the pilot who must have been alive still... maybe he didn't even know anything was wrong in the main cabin. But, that's where s**t really hit the fan. I'm not ashamed to say that I booked it out of there. I put the pedal to the metal and made my way back to the main baggage receiving building faster than I could think. I remember shutting the doors, and locking down the shutters before I collapsed. My body wasn't in any shape to take scares like that. I saw the flight attendant, her skin was pale and broken in places. Her eyes were so feral looking. I knew what she was as soon as I laid eyes on her. She was undead. I wasn't going to stick around for that any longer than I had to.
I had to wait for half an hour before my body would let me get up from my special hiding place. By then I could hear the screaming from outside. It was going badly out there, and there wasn't much that could be done about it. Someone had ******** up, and now people were going to pay the price for it. I opened the shutters just enough to take a look outside. I was glad I only opened it up a crack, there was a body on slumped up against the door on the other side, and it got stuck on the door, dragging upward for about an inch or so. I let it dangle there for a moment, holding my breath, hoping it wouldn't move. I was hoping for too much, it thrashed away, screeching that horrible inhuman sound. Drawing attention to the small baggage receiving building. I slammed the shutter down, and was already near the back door when I heard the crashing against the shutter. One... two-three.. it got harder to keep count as the metal began to bend inwards, the impressions of hand, shoulders and heads slowly marring the smooth inside of the shutters. They were ramming themselves against the shutters with enough force to shake the entire wall. My breath was catching in my throat. I knew there was no way for me to leave now. They would catch me too easily. I would die here. I remember going to the front. Bringing a chair with me. I wanted to sit down, I was tired already. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.
When I opened my eyes again, it was dark outside. The sounds had stopped, and I was aching all over. I had probably fallen off my seat some time ago, but was too tired to notice. I picked myself off the floor, and noticed that for the night, it was pretty warm in the building. There was no power as I tried the lights. And the outside was unusually dark for an airport. I tried the shutters, but they were mangled in place. The back door was also sealed. Almost like someone had glued the damn thing shut. I found a window that had been broken in, maybe someone had done that while he was out cold? I didn't care at the time, I just needed to get outside. I stuck my head out the high window after finding a bunch of box luggage that would hold my weight. There was fire as far as I could see. Thick smoke was covering the entire sky. The airport itself was a mass of broken buildings and raging fire. I could hear engines overhead. The high whining that could only be a bomber. The keen whistle or a projectile leaving the craft. The distant thump as it hit ground. I fell back into the building, pushed by an unseen force. The military had carpet bombed the place.
They were doping their job, and he couldn't be any happier that everything out there was probably dead. Thank God for the U.S. Military. The boys wouldn't let us die without a fight. Thank God someone out there was making sure that this didn't get out there. He had family out there still, and if it meant he had to die here, then he would take it with a smile.
That's how I know, that no matter what the other survivors say about the military abandoning us, they did their best. They tried to contain it, and someone else ******** it up for them. They did everything they could. They didn't ******** up. God bless them all, heroes and saints!
Viral Amplification: DeathBed Journals
This will be a collection of short stories told by survivors on their deathbeds. Each story is told from the perspective of the survivor, and details the struggles they had gone through, or maybe just one extraordinary event that had either changed t