Original Stories Fan Fiction / Horror Fan Fiction ❯ Survival, the After Action reports ❯ Kazuki's report part 1 ( Chapter 1 )

East of the Rockies; Former Federal Prison, Site of the last stand of the Orange Shirt Army

[The air is cool and the old prison is still full of bullet holes and burn marks, not to mention rubble. The man who walks out to greet me is of moderate height with very long brown hair and red high lights. He's thin and wearing a black leather trench coat and a faux fur black wolf tail and old army fatigues. Under his arm an old AK-47 is slung and a magnum revolver is tucked into a shoulder holster. This man is Kazuki Ferret, one of the former leaders of the Orange Shirt Army and current historian at the Orange Shirt Museum. He greets me with a hand shake and a smile]

I don't suppose you've heard too much about the hell I've endured have you? No, the government doesn't want me to seem too sympathetic, I really don't know why tho'. Maybe they thought my "Orange Shirt Army" would be a threat?

That's what the report said; it said that you were planning to succeed from the country.

Load of bullshit! They were what kept this place alive for a year and a half. Those supply drops of ammo and food, without them this base would have descended into chaos and it would have succeeded, but we were just waiting for the actual US Army to come and fucking liberate us! Do you know where "Orange Shirt Army" came from?

No.

The main constancy of my "Army" were the convicts at this facility, I came and armed them with the weapons I'd gathered on my trek from Ohio to here, nearly a few thousand miles through the worst infected areas with my "Black Heavies" so called because we used Motorcycle gear to protect us from bites. There were a few of us and we'd gathered vehicles and namely big U-Haul vans and we raided as much as we could, even quite a few National Guard Armories and even a few Cabela's stores. We amassed tons of old M16's and M4's by the time we reached here we had enough to arm every convict with military grade assault rifles and ammunition. But we couldn't give them new clothes, so they named themselves the "Orange Shirt Army" or "OSA" because of their jumpsuits.

What about the guards?

They where the "Blue Spartans" because they where the interior defense force with their riot gear, shields and blue jumpsuits; what we trained them to do was to line up in a hallway, make a phalanx using their shields and they also carried improvised spears and they had sidearms; Beretta M92FS 9mm's and a few had Colt Python .357 magnum revolvers. But their primary armament was the spear, a few also hung back with MP-5's, a 12-Gauge or an M-16 or a few had Ruger Mini-14's. Just incase you know?

And who were the "Black Heavies"?

Myself, my wife Claire, Jenkins, Evan, Sean, Jill, 'The Fury', Doctor Jack, T-Dog, Auston and a few dozen others. We were the elite of the group, with the heaviest armaments; I'm talkin' AK-47's, M-14's, magnum revolvers, SPAZ-12's, Steyr AUG's, Mauser K-98's, flamethrowers, shotguns of every make, M1-Garands, Desert Eagles, Colt 1911's, M-249's, SVD's, Mauser pistols, Lugers, any and every gun under the sun. My personal load out was an AK-47 as primary, M1-Garand for long Range, Smith and Wesson model 29 .44magnum Revolver, a Luger, K-Bar knife and a katana. It was hell to hump that ruck in all black leather riding gear but I fucking did it!

Why did you carry so much gear?

Well you see, when we were on raids or in combat it was brief and usually in winter. And what ever we might need we brought with us, kind of like paratroopers. Claire carried a Steyr AUG, a Mossberg 500 pump, a Mauser C-96, a Beretta M92FS and a katana and she was maybe a buck twenty and a little shorter then I am.

What about Jenkins, I've heard his name before, what did he use?

Well, Jenkins is allot stronger then me so he was our "Heavy" he carried a Barrett M107 .50 Caliber sniper rifle

JESUS!

You can call me Kazuki, any way. He also carried an M-14, a Browning Auto loader 12-Gauge, a Smith and Wesson 686 .357 magnum and a Marlin Papoose .22 rifle. I believe we're drifting off topic here.

Okay, start at the beginning. [Kazuki motions for me to follow him and we begin to walk along the inside of the prison, surrounded by towering walls he begins his story]

It was early in the morning on a Monday when I was thrust into the Zombie thing. World War Z if you will; started for me on 12:00AM on a Monday when I smelled something rotten. I got dressed and went to the first floor of my house to see my dog, Mr. Parker staring off at something in my back yard; I vaguely made out the shape of a man. Now I was freaking out at this time, because Mr. Parker wasn't barking so I went up to my room and grabbed my revolver (Kazuki takes the revolver from his holster and shows it to me) a Smith and Wesson model 29 .44 magnum revolver, blued with a 6 1/2 inch barrel. (He holsters the revolver). A big cannon for sure, and I then went outside turning the porch light on as I went. The man didn't notice me at first, until I called out to him.

Then what did you do?

I shot him in the head, and then two more came around the side of my house, which I also shot to death.

Wow

Yeah I know, I only fired four shots and I killed three. Then I gathered up my Beretta and my Mossberg and a few other guns. You see my family and I were big gun nuts and hunters, so we had a lot of guns and ammo in the house. God Bless America, am I right?

[I simply nod]

Well anyway I made my way to a local store that the TV told me was set up as a safe zone. I had to go on foot with my dog because I thought there would be road blocks, and there were. On my way through my neighbor hood I killed about a dozen or so more zombies, and... Have you ever heard of the rare mutation that occurred with the Zombies? Really out there stuff, most people deny the existence of things like the Dodger Monkeys, the 'Fast Zacks' and the mutant zombie animals. Well they existed, believe me, I killed allot of those freaked out things! Like three or so Dodger Monkeys on the way to the "Safe Zone".

I've never seen one or any evidence of their existence... Are you sure you just aren't crazy?

I've been to dozens of shrinks since the end of the war but none have found me even the least bit delusional. Believe me, those things were out there. I've killed enough to know.

Okay, I'll take your expert opinion on it.

You'd damn well better. Anyhoo... I managed to find a Police cruiser and I managed to get to the safe zone but it had been over run by the zombies. I fought my way in. Inside I managed to find one of the guns that would see me through this mess. (Kazuki pats the AK-47) It's actually a Yugoslavian Zastava M70, not a true Russian AK47; the parts are heavier and a full six tenths of a millimeter thicker then the Russian gun which increases accuracy. I also found a girl named Jill Cho and my friend Sean. We raided the ammo section and managed to escape with a few thousand rounds. Sean drove the Cruiser back to my neighborhood and after we ditched it we loaded up as much as possible. Sean had an Over and under 12-Gauge, my .357 and his Colt .45ACP. Jill had a Mauser Kar-98k and two single action .22lr revolvers with these little lasers in the grips. We crossed a creek and a park. Then I got tagged for the first three times during the war.

You were shot?

Three times by an M-16A2, I killed the soldier holding it, the man apparently was with the National Guard and they'd tried to take a short cut through my neighborhood, but they'd crashed and had been mostly whipped out by zombies. We raided their transport and their corpses. We came away with allot of military grade weapons; a few M4A1's, a few M16's, an M107, an M249 SAW, an M24 .300Win Mag SWS and some frags and satchel charges; great stuff and some medical supplies. But before we could run off with our swag a large number of zombies started attacking us at the truck. We fought them with all our might, but the battle seemed lost after I blew out my hearing firing the .50 cal. I crawled along the ground and propped myself against one of the truck wheels.

Crawled?

Yeah, I'd damaged my semi-circular canal when I fired the .50 so my equilibrium was shot to fuck. Then Sean tagged my left leg trying to blast a Z off me. After that Sean and Jill took my dog, and at my urging ran off, and I stood alone to face the remaining zombies, about eighty or so. I managed to kill them all using some pretty badass dodging skills. Then I went through and started to gather weapons and I loaded up my magazines and speed loaders. Then in a backpack on one of the zombies I found a customized Desert Eagle .50AE with a ten inch barrel and about a hundred rounds and a few spare mags along with a shoulder rig. Then came the beast to end all beasts; the literal nightmare that haunts my dreams to this day. (Kazuki motions to a door) Let's sit down inside, when I talk about this my whole body starts to ache like it did that horrifying day.

(We enter a large rec room that has nice soft couches and a large television, there was a movie playing but it was paused, the movie was Dirty Harry, Kazuki sits down and starts talking again) My wife and I were watching when you called and she decided to take the opportunity to go to the store. Anyway, behind me was a mutant bull. Very, very large as big as a bus, larger even; very wide shouldered, thick with muscles.

This is the beast you called "El Toro" in your book right?

Exactly, have you read it?

Just that part, should we move on to after that, when you were wounded badly and started to see things?

Sure, I managed to kill El Toro but my body was badly bruised and broken. I was bleeding from my gunshot wounds, my ribs were cracked, I couldn't hear out of my right ear, my left leg was having trouble supporting my weight and my gut was badly injured.

El Toro kicked you right?

Yes sir, right in the gut with his knee, sent my ass into a lamp post. Anyways, I managed to struggle a few blocks carrying quite a bit of gear when I was found by Jack and his buddy. Jack managed to patch me up, right there, saved my life. But then his buddy, I curse myself every day for not knowing his name. Well he'd been assisting Jack with the operation so he'd taken off his gear. When he went to retrieve it he was overtaken by seven or so zombies, he killed four with his Steyr AUG before they tore him apart, Jack managed to kill one with his bow before I opened fire with the AK and took down the remaining few. That's where I got Claire her AUG and my M1-Garand. I really wish I knew that man's name. (Kazuki has a deeply sad look in his eyes as he speaks, and he's quivering as if in great pains)

Should we end the interview here?

(Kazuki smiles) No, we've only covered five hours of my trip through the inferno, we'll take a break if you want, and I just need to get my pills.

Pills?

For the pain, I suffered many great wounds during the war, more then any of the soldiers in the "New Army". Shit, none of those boys even got the mental scars to measure up to mine. (Kazuki stands up, setting down his AK-47 and walks to an end table and takes out a bottle of pills and a water bottle) Fuckin' horse pills man, vicodian, aspirin, ozycotton, morphine... I'm on it all. Some wounds tho' these pills do nothing to move me from. (He takes several pills and a gulp of water) then sits back down.

Better?

A little, I'll be better once Claire gets back. But I can get back to my story now. Jack gathered up more of the weapons from the truck and I left an M4 with three loaded magazines, a grenade and the S&W 686 Sean had dropped with a box of .357 rounds for Jenkins, I wrote him a note telling him to head to my house.

How did you know he'd make it there?

I didn't. But a man can hope. And if someone else found that stash they'd have some weapons and a destination, I'd wrote my address on the note just for that purpose. Jenkins knew where I lived, so he had no need for the address. Also if you'd have read my book you'd have known that Jenkins made it to my house. But anyway we made it to my house and Sean and Jill helped Jack finish fixing me up, they put me on the couch and got the rest of the gear from the truck that I wasn't leaving for Jenkins. I slept until morning.

Then what?

We started to pack up my van for a trip to Cabela's to get more supplies or hold up for a while. Then Jenkins showed up. After a while Auston and Evan arrived and we headed out with Sean driving. I slept some more, using my dog as a pillow until we reached the mall. It looked mostly abandoned and we knew we could use the extra supplies. So damning reason we raided the place.

"Damning Reason"?

The place was crawling with zombies. We managed to make it to sporting goods before someone opened fire on us. Then we cut through a book store and found a maintenance passage to the sporting goods store.

Why did you need to use the maintenance passage?

Security gate was down. Also just me, Jenkins and Auston were on this raid and Auston had already managed to get back outside. So me and Jenkins entered the sporting goods store to find a man clad in SWAT armor holding an AR-15. Also he'd opened the gates and the dead were pouring into the first floor of the store. We were on the second and he'd destroyed the stairs leading up.

Sounds like a maniac

Yeah, he started shooting at me and Jenkins. I'd only brought my Mossberg 500 and my Beretta, Jenkins had the Marlin Papoose and a .38 special revolver that Jack's buddy had when he died. We'd loaded up to kill zombies, a few zombies. Not a crazy SWAT wannabe. Needless to say his body armor and ballistics helmet kept him safe from our rounds. Until he was changing mags saying "You can't kill me with such useless guns." I bum rushed him and cracked his head open with the stock of the Mossberg. He staggered back with this look of confusion on his face, he backed up to the railing above the zombies and I shot him in the chest with the Mossberg. He tumbled over the railing into the swarm beneath us, he died quickly. I can still hear his terrified screams as the horde torn him limb from limb as me and Jenkins gathered ammo and camping supplies into duffle bags. You see that man's death gave us the distraction we needed to get out of there. He screamed so loud when they tore his arms out of the sockets...

Weren't there weapons inside the store?

Yes but they where all locked by a bar and they had trigger locks. We just took what we could and left.

The AR-15?

Crazy guy died with it in his hands. Me and Jenkins also raided a motorcycle store on the way out. That's where we first got some 'black-man condoms' as he called it. I got a black leather trench coat and leaver riding gloves with fingers and leather riding pants, although I usually wore fatigues with wrapped cloth around my legs. I wasn't much for CQB with the zombies, I'm not physically strong enough to fight them off by myself so I'd usually just hang back and do cover fire. Anyway we made it back outside with plenty of new gear. Then we all headed for Cabela's.

So when you got to Cabela's?

Well we managed to go through the loading docks and close the gate without having any zombies follow us in. This time I went in ready for a battle, AK ready. Sean had the M-249, Jenkins had an M4, Evan had his Mauser, Jill had a Mossberg at ready and Auston had the Steyr AUG. Jack hung back with the van incase anything went wrong and we needed to bug out.

Then what?

Well the manager had about fifty people tied up and he was standing on the second floor with an AR-15 threatening to let the zombies or "Unclean Ones" eat them. I fired two rounds from the AK into his spinal column. I'm sure he was dead before he hit the ground. I then took control, ordering the people to give me their names and former occupations in the Gun Library, because it looked like a major's office with it's big desk and spinney chair. They must have thought me a tyrant, as they where lined up and any, I mean any with big marks executed by Sean. There I sat, with my dog next to me and one of the employees, a Miss Claire Redding placing all the guns next to me.
However any vision of evil they had of me was certainly shaken when I started to hand them guns and ammo, probably one of my more stupid choices. I then told them to gather at the entrance and hold up signs I'd made which said "Construction", "Dental", "Medical", "Military/Police", "Convict", "Desk Workers", "Food", and "Other". Once that was done I ordered the denial and medical to choose a sterile area to set up an improvised medical facility and gather anything they could use to treat wounds and care for teeth. Then the construction guys I told to tare down some of the displays to make the front doors secure and everyone else was ordered (save for my men and Claire) to start using the camping stuff to build a little city with some privacy for everyone.
I set up in the gun library. Me and Jenkins shared control, Claire was my assistant. We clicked; we both love animals, Japanese manga, Otaku stuff, video games, hentai porn, Yuri stories, Goth culture and we are both furries. Jenkins and Jill also started to 'click' with one another. I took the job of being the asshole leader, barking orders, ordering the ration portions, Jenkins acted as the moderate. Things went on like this for months and the people soon started to admire me, I kept them in line and things moving allot nicely. Made sure everyone had food, electricity warm beds.
The funny thing is, during our time at Cabela's I rarely ate. I gave most of my rations to either my dog, or Claire. I lost allot of weight then. But other then my admin duties I took care of the guns. Rewarding myself with a Luger and giving Claire my personal M92FS, because we didn't have anything to use as rings.

You married her there?

More like 'engaged' but more or less yeah.

How did you keep power going all that time?

Camping generators, propane heaters and cookers; this was Cabela's you know; survivalist version of Wal-Mart. We also started to train the people to be soldiers to defend themselves. We had tons of guns, mostly hunting shotguns; you know double barrels, pumps, auto loaders; great weapons, not to mention a few dozen or so military grade assault rifles and battle rifles. So we started to drill them. Soon however things started to fall apart.

What happened?

Some of the people thought they were being cheated out of rations when they saw Claire actually getting a little fat. You see her way of dealing with stress is to eat, so I gave her my rations and her duties were administrative, little physical labor she did allot tho'; acting as my assistant, she dealt with the folks. My "Ferret Nation" as Jenkins called it. Soon we started to see little separatist groups rise up, demanding more food.

What did you do?

I gave them mine, what little I used for myself.

Did that work?

No, one of them shot me with a .38 snub nose, well he missed. I put a .44magnum round in his gut. You see they didn't believe that was all I had as my ration until I lifted my shirt to show them why the bullet missed, I was so skinny... maybe 89 pounds or so on my 5' 7" frame. They gave me my rations back and some of their's. Saying I needed to be feed in order to make wise...

[Kazuki suddenly stops, then smiles]

Before we continue, do you know why this museum isn't yet open to the public?

No.

Well it's because we're the only facility still waiting to be `cleansed'. In our solitary confinement rooms we have several of the living dead locked up. That's why I travel armed in my own home.

Why hasn't the government done anything?

Oh, they are: research. What better then seventeen all ready locked up zombies to be a benchmark test for how long they can go without food. Stupid idea if you ask me, the answer is until I put a bullet it them, but the government pays me $5,000 per zombie each month so I really can't complain. But still man seventeen? I wouldn't mind thinning that down to seven. But $85,000 goes a long way. Especially when you're setting up a museum, caring for a wife, maintaining a large property, repairing said property, buying ammunition for your guns, and buying classical literature, not to mention my medical bill, Jesus Christ you thought that senior citizens had it bad.

Okay, can we get back to your story?

Well I kind of want this in your report. I mean, shit. This is the stuff I deal with everyday, the bills, everything, although it is worlds better then dealing with zombies. And I'm still pretty much in the black.

It'll be in there, you were talking about how the people in Cabela's wanted you to eat more.

Right well, my birthday came around. Claire and the others gathered up all the Salmon from the aquarium, they were dieing you see, natural life cycle. And I cooked up those fish like no body's business. Me and Claire shared the biggest Salmon of the lot, I cooked that beast with epic skill just the way I like it, me and Claire dug in... I lost my virginity that night to Claire as we celebrated our official wedding. We even had a priest amongst the Nation so it was an official marriage.
Since that was winter and I could see several stores from the roof and also how many zombies were frozen solid... Well first off it was time to give the trainees of the Nation their trigger times with their real weapons, not air soft guns.

Isn't that a waste of ammo?

No, we were already set up to reload brass and they needed the practice. Shooting a frozen zombie from a roof top your first time is way better then shooting one who's got you cornered you know? And in the more skittish of the Nation it helped take away the zombie's mojo. Showed them that they weren't invincible, and each zombie they killed like that was one less trying to tare down the barricade. No waste. That and most were using .22LR's which believe me we had millions of rounds for.
Then I went out on an expedition with Claire and Auston; Jenkins stayed to keep order and provide sniper support with his .50 or the .338 he'd found on his way to my house. You see sending three people on a scout mission is as dangerous as all hell, especially in that kind of weather. We were lucky to have been the heavies, man. Sure the hunting coats are nice and warm. But nothing clings like leather and keeps you warm, plus those zombies had a hell of a time biting through that stuff. Especially during that patrol, we had the leather on under cloth hunting clothes.

Did that help?

You wouldn't believe how much of a difference there is. The soft cloth takes allot of the crunch outta their bite and the leather stops those teeth, no matter how broken. No it didn't make you invincible but by the time a zombie could get through that stuff you could have it dead any number of ways or one of your buddies could. We also wore motorcycle helmets to prevent splatter into out eyes and bites to the head. I swear by that stuff even today. I've seen the new army BDU's, they're close but our shit was better. Plus our helmets could smash their skulls if we had to.
Well anyway we encountered tons of thawed zombies; you see fifty percent of that town was on fire, so the zombies weren't frozen. Not that my AK wouldn't kill them. And Claire was damned good with that AUG. Auston preferred his Ruger Super Red Hawk revolver but he had no trouble downing them with the SKS, or his Nagant. And Jenkins, man he tore them apart with that .50. Have you ever seen what happens to a head when shot with a .50BMG from only 500 yards away?

No.

Literal decapitation; you'll hear people say something like; "I saw an M16 blow their heads off!” that's wrong. Not even my AK-47; a 7.62 by 39 tore their heads off, a 5.56 by 45 aint got a chance in hell of blowing a head off, even half a mag will just turn it to mush and goo. Shotguns blew their craniums apart, but not like the .50 did, you never forget the first time you see one's head tare off of the neck and splatter across the nearest wall.
Anyway we managed to get some canned goods and water bottles, plus I managed to get Claire a proper ring. There was a jewelry store in town. Anyway, we made it back. I think between the four of us we killed a hundred or more. You see our way of doing things wasn't like the New Army's clean way of doing it. No, our's was a brutal and dangerous dance with death as we shot them with assorted small arms, blew them up with grenades, sliced their heads off, smashed their skulls. Our's was the way to death, and yet even now we have a better ratio then the Army!

Then what?

Well sprits were high all winter; we even got a working radio and started to call for rescue. We had a whole unit of ten people who would broadcast our single and wait for responses. Me and Claire became very familiar with each other's.... well you know. We fucked like jackrabbits, okay. She and my friends were what I was surviving for; then came spring, and the end of that nation.

What happened?

Well with spring meant increased danger and no more raids. To show the Nation we could protect them the "Black Heavies" carried our full combat loads when ever possible and patrols were doubled. Everyone carried a gun at all times. We have a picture in our future gallery of a father standing outside of the tent that was his home holding a Winchester .30/30 and he also had a Colt 1911 on his belt, behind him his wife was cooking dinner with a Double Barreled shotgun laying next to her, behind them their kids where playing with Cabin Critters plush toys. Real raw stuff. There's a picture of me and Claire Frenching each other, with our guns crossed in the foreground. Nervous fucking times, tension was high.
Some people are weak. Very weak and should be killed off as quickly as possible. They're a cancer; their weakness spreads and kills the system as a whole. That's what spring taught me; a brutal lesson that almost ended my life.

What do you mean?

There was a man who was afraid, despite everything he was still afraid of what was happening around himself, Z Shock they call it I believe. And instead of seeing one of the shrinks we had in our group or the priest he went berserk, he threw an oil lamp into another family's tent after he slit his son's throat. Then he killed one of the men on guard duty and took a grenade... He blew up the front doors. The dead came pouring in.
After that everything went to hell, the civilians started to try and fight the dead back... My crew and every civilian were well aware of my contingency plan. You see we kept five units of supplies near a sewer access port in the loading dock.

Five units?

Two duffle bags full of ammunition for 9mm, .45ACP, .38special, .44 magnum, 5.56 or .223 rifles, 7.62 Soviets, 12 gauge shells, .30 aught 06s, .308s and reloading tools and gun powder and tons of .22LRs and some assorted other small arms as well as some extra magazines, a few guns. Then one duffle bag of medical gear and one of clothes and bed rolls and one of food and water. As a 'just incase' the worst happened. Which it did and the general civvies started throwing themselves at the dead in suicidal waves in a burning building. Crazy, insane, stupid. But such is the human's nature I suppose.
At any rate once I saw that my covering fire was only wasting my bullets I pulled Claire and my dog to the sewer access, Auston, Evan, T-Dog, Jack, Jill, Sean, and Jenkins followed us in soon after. And about a dozen others managed to follow as well. I was carrying allot of gear, with the AK-47, the M1-Garand, a .458LOTT rifle, the .44magnum, and the Luger, that's just the guns I'd managed to stack onto myself! We ran and ran in that darkness. We'd only flashlights lighting our way. Behind us, we could still hear the nation's death cries as the gunshots died down...
This was a little while after that one battle in New York I believe, where our military got a royal ass kicking. Hell I could have set that shit up much better. All you really need is the tanks to form a nice little barrier, load 'em up with flachete rounds and then cover them with soldiers armed with M-14s, scoped. Behind the line made by the tanks have more troops in reserve and plenty of ammo, water and food. Not to mention Bradley's and other APCs. So even if, IF the shit hits the fan, they got a way the fuck outta there that the zombies will have one hell of a time knocking over. I aint never seen even the biggest crowd tip a fucking Abrams over. Hell I wish I coulda had a Bradley for my trip through hell.

Okay.

Sorry, wide scale stupidity frustrates me. You have to understand what I did and just how drastically different it was from what our military did when it reclaimed the nation. I was marching through infected territory with NO supply lines or ANY contact with a home base. Where I was, that was home base and I had threats in a 360 degree field of death. Those Army boys think they had it rough? -Fuck them; I fought my way through the worst infected zones with only around thirty or so people with me, with only what we had on our backs to fight with. Basically a platoon's worth of people, with NO military training between any of us, and some private in the army tells me he had it worse during his trek? Fuck him. He might, just might have had it tough, I'll give them that New York sucked ass but no; Russians are the ONLY ones who I'll give it to them that they might have had it worse. But me, I had it bad. I carried a combat load of 210 pounds; I weighed 120 at most after Cabela's.
At any rate we reached another manhole so we climbed out and ran, far away from the ashes of the Nation. We headed southwest, hoping to survive the nightmare ahead of us.

[To be continued in part 2]