Parting words

The Town of Quiver Valley was destroyed on February 11, 2011.

3 weeks later, a funeral for the victims was held in a small clearing just outside the quarantine zone, on the south side of the surrounding forest.

Reverend Mathis, former pastor of the town, delivered an able discourse on the occasion and paid an eloquent tribute to the deceased. Miles Stebbins, a prominent supporter of the entire area also made an effective address, eulogizing the character of the many people he had long known and honored. A long procession of citizens turned up from the neighboring towns and cities, mourning those that have passed.

After the burial, a single marble grave remained unmarked, except for a date and a place, for all the souls that have been lost in the tragedy.

One of the attending officials, before the burial, commented: This had already been too long delayed. More than a week has gone since the incident, and it is about time to let the dead lay down to their long deserved rest.

His appeal was answered with contributions, large and small, coming in from around the country. Many of his colleagues, including Jane Brickshaw, sent money, as did many of the Valley’s leading business and professional figures.

The reason that no successful action has been taken to build a proper burial has been cited to be the investigation and forensic analysis of any evidence found, including the deceased. Many supporters hoped and some demanded the release of any bodies found or identified, but authorities deemed them hazardous, and were taken to a government facility for processing, ultimately put to rest at an undisclosed location to prevent grave robbing.

In addition to the gravesite marker, a number of additional tributes have been paid to Quiver Valley:

According to plans, in the following months, the new state highway crossing the vicinity of the town will be named "Quiver Valley Memorial Highway”, with the press release claiming that such action will ensure that Quiver Valley will never be lost, and that whoever passes the once great town will most certainly be aware of it.

The recently formed “Bright Light” association also promises to sponsor an annual Quiver Valley luncheon to help the many unfortunate communities in the area, helping them become more like how Quiver Valley was at its pinnacle.

Our thoughts and prayers go out to the family and friends of any of the victims of this horrible tragedy.

So that is how it ends. Not with a bang, but with a whimper. The memorial was touching, that much is true. But despite all I wrote down in here, there is still a lot even I don't know. Maybe noone does. I justed wanted to have my say, and leave the rest up to whoever reads this. Because, from here on out this is not the story of the people who died in Quiver Valley, this is not my story. This story is everyone else's.

Final thoughts, part two

Here is the final interview conducted in Quiver Valley, on February 9th, 2011. The speaker is Jennifer Hayes (32), wife of George Benjamin Hayes, one of the many good people who gave their lives in the last few hours. After we are done, these tapes and all the documents we managed to save will be hidden, to ensure their safety. Please whoever reads this, make sure that all that's happened will not stay a secret, and will not be forgotten. Thank you.

I was at home, using up my sick days to catch up my TV shows. I was vaguely aware of all that had gone down in the last few days, but despite this being a small town, since we had no direct relations to anyone involved we weren’t particularly affected by it all. By “we” I mean me and George. We tried to stay out of other people’s business. Maybe that’s why George was able to get home and grab me. He probably stayed way in the back when the first few groups started shambling down the streets. First thing he did upon getting home was load his gun which frightened me. In all the years he had it, he never once used it outside the range. We don’t have kids, but he still kept it safely hidden away, just to be sure. We have been wanting one for a long time. We just started trying for one a few weeks ago. I wish we had started sooner. Mutley, our dog filled in till then. I’m sorry I’m rambling I’m just not sure what I should say. We did nothing to deserve this. We were good people. Then suddenly George gets home in a bloody shirt, grabs his gun the holds me by the arms and tells me that no matter what happens I am to stay at his side and not stop for anyone or anything. He was shaking. I tried asking what was going on, but there wasn’t enough time for explanations. Mutley started barking like crazy. He was in the back yard. The gate must have been left open. He became more erratic than started crying and then fell silent. George ran out telling me to stay put. I heard his gun go off. He came in and said we had to take off. I asked about Mutley, but he evaded my eyes. So we ran. We saw our neighborhood torn apart and broken into pieces, saw our friends killing each other, and all the while couldn’t think about what was really going on. We saw the Johnson’s pinning their youngest to the ground. He had no chance against all four of them. Probably not even one of them. George told me not to look but I saw his mother tear into his cheek. I heard his screams muffled by his own blood. Were we stupid that we stopped anyway? She was all alone. The little Robinson girl. Was it the name that got to us? Was that reason we thought she might have made it? Doesn’t matter now I suppose. George called to her, went closer than he knew was probably safe. She didn’t hesitate for a moment. Tore into his neck and would not let go. George….he….he raised his gun to her head and pulled the trigger. As he collapsed her lifeless body fell on top of him. I ran over, wanting to help. But I saw he wasn’t breathing. Then he moved and opened his eyes. It wasn’t him anymore. Oh god I hope it wasn’t. The gun…it…fell closer to me than him, and I couldn’t leave him like that. I didn’t have any clear thought. Except for that one. So I shot my husband. I shot whatever was left of him. I shot whatever part I had given to him of myself. I don’t care anymore. We were good people. And we had to start killing each other to stop ourselves of killing each other. Now we wait in here until the inevitable moment when they break down the doors or windows and claw themselves through us one by one. This doesn’t make sense. I don’t want to talk anymore.

Final thoughts, part one

I don’t know how it went down exactly. It didn’t take long. Couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours. Lynch said it was a combination of the hunting party and the nurse being locked in with the other patients and at this point I have no reason to doubt him. Not that it changes much. We don’t have a lot of time left, so we are writing this to gather as much information as possible, and…and I don’t know. We’re locked in here, I’m guessing the military or whoever sent Lynch and blockaded the Valley is going to resort to something drastic soon enough. So this will be the last piece I do for the Quiver Gazette. Here with me now, is Nathan Paisley (26), Lisa Goulding (6), and Jennifer Hayes (32), who I cannot possibly thank enough for their willingness to talk to me about what they have been through.

Nathan:

I was- we were there when the hunters came back. We saw them shambling up Matheson street. They were torn and bloody and…they were fucking dead. I don’t know what else there is to say. We sure as hell didn’t know then. Those families that ran to help them. Those poor bastards. Still they saved us in a way I guess. That woman with the bottles of water, who was probably one of the people looking for them in the first place. They tore her up first. Everyone froze. Soon the cops arrived. shot in the air like some idiots. Yeah it’s protocol I don’t give a shit. They saw what was happening. They saw the body on the ground. Why didn’t they start shooting? Sure we know now that it would have been worth nothing, but that was what woke me. Of all the things…anger made me react. I grabbed a gun away from of the men who were caught, I started shooting. Hit one in the head. I have never fired a gun in my life. It was a lucky shot. Still, the others followed and soon the whole street was littered with bodies. I was taken in. That is where I met Boon and the others. It’s not like everyone clicked and knew what had to be done.
Can you believe they started processing me? No one ever got around to finishing it. The calls came in too quickly. Funny how the hunting party stayed together. Really threw everyone off. Soon everyone was out of the station, sirens were going off all over the place. Next thing I knew Boon was opening my cuffs, putting a gun in my hand telling me to get a move on. He gathered as many people as he could. I never really got to know him.
Now this the part that is important. We wanted to leave town. We are nut idiots and we knew we had zero chances if we stayed. Problem was, we weren’t allowed to leave. And forget the movies where you are told so and left to your devices to try and escape. Lynch or whoever shot up the hospital got word out, a military blockade was up before anyone could even react. And they weren’t fucking around either. They shot those people then and there. Boon, the few cops with him. These people, whoever they are, are not here to save us. This is important. This is what has to be written down. They didn’t come to save us. Boon and the men who died asking for help? They made it possible for us to hide in here, try to bide our time. Not their fault we can’t get out. Whatever happens it isn’t their fault. They saved us. Them and the lady with the water bottles.

Lisa:

I feel a little scared. Mommy took me shopping. There were a lot of people in the mall. Everyone was in a hurry and they even forgot to give money to the lady you have to give money for the stuff you buy. Maybe they didn’t want to wait for her to get back. Mommy got worried because of what Mrs. Finley was telling her, but I couldn’t listen to them because she covered my ears. She had big, warm hands. Someone started yelling about the parking lot, so people started pushing us back into the store, even though we didn’t want anything anymore. Then those big chains were put on the windows and the doors, but the monsters didn’t care. Everyone was screaming I was very scared then because of all the screaming and shouting. Mommy picked me up like she always does and we ran out the back of the store, but she fell and I didn’t know what was happening. Then big, warm hands picked me up and I couldn’t see mommy anymore.

To be continued.

Unofficial Report 02

In the hours following the hospital shootings, police scrambled to conduct the investigation, interrogate the shooter and find the missing hunters. Even with the local fire department and ranger service joining in, the town was on its way to hysteria. Scared people demanded answers in groups in front of the police station, fearing for their lives. Tensions elevated when speculation began on how one man could kill several hunters, even though a connection between the then unknown person and the missing people had never been established.

While all this was going down I managed to talk a few words with Ms. Clay, just as she was admitted to the psych ward for monitoring. I dashed over to the station, and thanks to some friends could keep an ear on the interview conducted with who I only ever got to know by the name Lynch. It was one of those moments in life, when you know your world is shifting around you, and you can’t do shit to stop it. Boon yelled his way into the room, and played worst cop against Sheriff Macready’s bad one. Lynch didn’t deny anything. He was cool, collected. He had done this before. He was not in a position to divulge information. His words. Accusations and threats came hard and fast, as he was told he could be facing the chair, he would be lucky if folks didn’t break in and hung him from a lamppost.

Then a strange thing happened. He asked about Ms. Clay. I’m not an expert, but I’ve seen many people lie who were. His concern seemed genuine, but it was hard to make out if it was concern for her well-being, or concern whether it was the right thing to do, to let her live. My suspicion was the latter, and when told of her condition his expressions changed. He became agitated. Finally, he dropped the bomb: he was a government agent. No one believed him then. He said he was undercover, and looking back, he really had no possible way to verify any of what he said. Intelligence agencies would never have admitted to him.

Doctor Talbot suggested playing out this possible psychosis, to at least learn of his motivations or background. Lynch refused to answer personal questions, but warned against contact with his victims. He spoke of some kind of biological threat, but refused to go into details. He later told me, that at this point he was still hopeful of a quarantine situation being avoided.

Not long after, word reached the station that Ms. Clay had passed away. It appeared her infection was resilient and could not be fought. The Sheriff told Lynch that he could add another nail to his coffin, and asked if he used some kind of poison or “biological agent” on her. Lynch got hysterical. He kept asking where’s the body, who was with it, what was going to happen to it. He was told to “sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up”. The body was kept in the psych ward, with a guard to be safe and to have someone to check on the other patients. Lynch demanded everyone get away from the corpse and be careful not to let any other person near it. “Relax Lynch, the others are bed ridden, most of those people can’t go to the bathroom by themselves.” The terror in Lynch’s eyes was clear to see.

He blurted out in one single sentence, how he was working in Japan, gathering intel on the continuation of a former Russian experiment of unknown origin. He said he was tracking a plane that left Japan with the last few remaining specimen, headed to some private organization. The plane was lost in the hills, he found some of the wreckage and notified his handler. He was told to refrain from contacting anyone about his presence, and to track whatever crawled away from the plane. At this point Boon asked who they suspected the survivors were. Lynch answered he was never supposed to look for survivors. He started explaining how the virus works, what the stages are and what we were supposed to do with the infected. We didn’t have time to laugh.

Because at about 6 p.m., the missing hunters found their way back to town…

Transcription of Tina Clay interview (nurse on duty on the 8th)

Record of Dr. Peter Talbot

Patient name: Tina Clay

Hello.

Where am I? What happened?

Do not be alarmed, you are in a safe place. After you were rescued and escorted out of the hospital you lost consciousness.

And the others?

I’m afraid you were the only one who was rescued.

So I? And the girls? And Riley? Oh my god…oh my god, oh my god.

Please calm down. I know this is a shock, but you know me, so you know I mean it when I promise I will do everything I can to help you. But right now, I would need you to tell me what happened in the secure wing. Can you do that?

I don’t know. I…It all happened so fast, and I was scared and…

It’s okay. No hurry. Try to stay calm, and focus. Any little detail would mean a lot.

I…well…it was late. We were supposed to finish up in a couple of hours. Judy and Marge were just going to check on R-Riley one more time, but they were already packed and ready to leave. I drew the short straw again. I would have had to stay the whole night. I got settled back at my station, playing solitaire…and…and then…can we stop? Please? I…I don’t want to…

It’s okay Tina. Everything’s alright. You’re safe. We can stop if you want, but it would really be important for the police to know what happened.

I…I…okay. That was when I heard Judy scream. There was this wild thrashing sound and Marge yelled to me. She was shouting for cocoa-pills.

Cocoa pills?

Oh sorry. It was her little nickname for one of our mild tranquilizers. You doctors always said K.O. pills, but her son always drinks some cocoa before going to sleep and… oh my god. Bobby? What happened to Bobby? Does he know? Is he alright?

He’s fine. He has been taken in by their neighbors for the time being. He is taken care of. Please continue.

I-I ran into the room and saw them holding Riley down on the bed. He was feverish and might have been hallucinating, I don’t really know. I couldn’t tell. But he was violent, scratched and managed to bite Judy. He practically tore of the sleeve of Marge’s coat. He barely nicked my forearm, and we managed to strap him down and gave him the cocoa…tranquilizers.

That was when the shooter came in?

N-No. I went out for bandages to patch us all up. The girls stayed in case the monster dose of medication didn’t hold Riley down. I treated my wound and only then did the man come in. He said he needed to see Riley Jenkins, and that he was from the government. I wouldn’t believe his phony story and told him I would call the police if he didn’t leave. That was when he pulled the gun. Said he’d kill me if I screamed. I didn’t. So I…I led him to the ro---It’s all my fault. I took him in. He killed them. I heard him do it. If I had said no…

Then he would have shot you.

But they would have heard it! They would be alive!

You can’t know that. Please calm down. There is nothing more you could have done.

I…I don’t know.

What happened after that?

W-When I opened the door, he asked if I had come in contact with Riley. I-I didn’t know what he could possibly mean. I said no. I just felt like it was the smart thing to say. Oh God listen to me. The smart thing to say…

He did leave you alive.

…

So he knocked you out?

Y-Yes. He hit me on the head with the gun. From there it is all hazy. I remember the ranger and the deputy. I don’t know what we talked about. I was barely able to stay conscious. I heard the gunshots though. I can still hear them.

That is completely normal. You are probably suffering from mild PTSD. You have nothing to worry about. We checked everything, and apart from the concussion and the mild fever…everything’s alright.