Still kicking

7445717 here, making a report from the outpost at Kettlesbridge.

Whatever the hell got into Marley is still out there; half my caravan has gone missing since we left.

I was one of the last out. I headed back to the medical bay to see if there were any survivours; it was a nightmare.

What I'm about to report paints a grim picture and isn't for the feint of heart- I could barely stay sane when I first saw it, and only these long weeks on the road and the council of 7431001 and my old friend Talbot have made it possible for me to think about it without coming to tears. Please, if you have a weak stomach, stop reading now. For those who want to know the truth, read on.

There were bodies everywhere. Whatever strain of bug we were fighting was obviously carnivorous and had no qualms about killing the sick. Too weak to even try to fight back, the injured refugees were among the first targets. I tried to search through the mess of corpses, their tangled limbs blood soaked and, more often than not, totally removed from their bodies. I found one man, barely alive. He was conscious, so I tried to get his attention. He looked up at me and I knew, right then and right there, that he was so far gone that nothing could bring him back. He started wailing at me, a low moan that was totally unintelligible at first. But as he got louder and the blood cleared from his throat, his cries began to form a sentence: Kill me. Over and over, louder and louder, he chanted. I don't remember crying, that I did everything I could do restrain the tears, but how I didn't break down in the sight of all that carnage and madness is beyond me still. I turned to walk away, but the man continued to howl. Unable to bear witness to this anymore, I took a step away from the man. His hand caught my pant leg, and he pulled hard on it, yelling now that I must kill him. I turned back to face him, and slapped him hard- as hard I could, screaming at him to shut up. But he was resolute, repeating himself over and over. I pulled my pistol from my holster and did something I will never forgive myself for: I shot him square in the forehead. His moaning stopped, and he slumped back. No, I don't remember crying, but by this point I know tears were rolling down my face. I swung my pistol around the room, suddenly very afraid I would be next. I stumbled across the room in a daze; I came perilously close to going insane myself, close to becoming another madman who could nothing but lie and wish for his own death. But something pulled me back. I can't recall what it was, just that it hit me hard and fast and made me want to hold on. A woman I once loved, a victory I had won. It didn't matter what it was, just that it had saved me. No sooner had I pulled myself back then something skittered into the room with me- I didn't see it so much as I felt it. I heard a sound, a soft tic-tic of nails or claws against the hard ceramic medical bay floor, and turned to face the direction. The sound stopped, but was soon replaced by a squishing noise, present even over the sparking of destroyed equipment and the off-hum of the malfunctioning ventilation system. Then I saw it. Emerging from beneath a particularly gruesome corpse. It looked like a small insect in the larval stage but it seemed to me, in the short moment I had to study it, quite undeveloped. It looked primitive, even compared to the rough-edged foot soldiers I had fought for so many years. It ignored me for a moment, eating a chunk of human flesh with a disgusting squishing noise. Then it saw me move, and it began to charge towards me. I leveled my pistol and I squeezed the trigger three times, ending its charge with nauseating sound of its exoskelton being cracked to pieces. I stood there, stunned for a moment. So many dead. Though the loss of so many was tragedy enough, there were some who's death would be felt especially. Tech sergeant Browler, in for a kidney operation, Master Williams, still recovering from his journey, 6349008, one of the oldest of us, in for a heart operation, all incapcitated for one reason or the other, unable to fight, unable to escape. For a second I thought what it must have been like for these men, to be half-awake but unable to act as they were ripped to shreds and eaten alive. I remeber throwing up quite violently all of a sudden. Then I remember I promptly turned and strode out into the hall, leaving the grotesque display of death behind me. I decided I would head to the upper quarters- maybe someone had been able to hold up there. Walking down the long corridors, I passed the mess hall. I peered in. It was almost as bad as the medical bay. Joining the dead were a mass of insect corpses. Some piled up in what appeared to be a pyre, some lying here and there near the door, and some scattered with the humans. At least they held out for awhile, I thought to myself, continuing on. I passed a visibily very dead man and grabbed the rifle he was clutching tightly in one hand, his arm above his sprawled corpse as if showing one last act of defiance.

I made good time to the upper quarters, and the halls were nearly entirely empty on the way there. I called out for survivours. I did a quick search, but the area seemed to be abandoned. I turned the corner and continued on to the West Armoury, which was really nothing more than a small closet filled with guns. There was a small, makeshift barricade in place. I walked around it, and saw three dead refugees and another dead agent who I didn't recognize. I cringed and shook my head a little. Suddenly, and this I remember clearly, it struck me like a bullet- what the slag was I doing here? The medical bay, the mess hall, this barricade- these men and women were mowed down- overwhelmed and slaughtered ruthlessly. What was I, one man, supposed to do? I shifted my priorities in a hurry: find an exit and get as far away as this place as possible.

I headed for the nearest exit; I can't remember if it was the blast doors near the storage bay or the maintenance hatch near the comms dish, but I do remember I hadn't gone more than twenty steps when I heard a noise that almost stopped my heart. Tic-tic, tic-tic, tic-tic. There must have been more than a dozen of them, maybe many more. I started to run. I ran away from the sound. I didn't care where it led me, I was just bent on getting as far away from that sound as I could. I passed into the old parts of the facility. I reached a cave-in, and changed my course. Then I was face to face with an old sealed blast door we hadn't be able to pry open. I changed my course. Next was another cave-in, this time rock instead of metal supports. I changed my course. Then, suddenly, I saw the sun. I kept running. I made it outside, but I kept running. It wasn't until I realised, some time after I had hit the edge of the small forest that grew West of the comms array, that the tic-tic had stopped, that I stopped running. I collapsed. I started to cry. I could barely breath, but I had to cry. I had to, because I couldn't keep it in any more. I don't know how long I sat there, bawling my eyes out, sick to myself, ashamed that I hadn't done more, hadn't searched harder. I was angry, too, not just at whatever had done this, but angry that I didn't have the chance to stop it, that I was on assignment when it had happened. Looking back on it now I am thankful, not angry, but at the time all I had were the most basic of emotions- fear and anger. When I finally stopped crying, the sun had nearly set. I stood up and brushed myself off, and I headed for the other side of the small grove of trees. I met up with one of the main roads- I'm not sure which, although I think it was Renault Road leading West away from the Marley Rocks facility. The sun fell from the sky just after I hit the road, and I stumbled along it, using moonlight to guide me as best I could. After walking for what I guess to be around four hours, I came upon a small convoy of men and a couple vehicles. 7431001 and Talbot, as well as fifteen others, came out to greet me. Survivours at last, they were almost as clueless as I was about what had happened.

The journey to Kettlesbridge was ardous to say the least. On the first night, we lost a man without a sound. Another man went to search for him and he dissapeared as well. The second night we posted a guard, but when we woke up he was nowhere to be found. The third night 7440938 and another woman I didn't know dissapeared. The fourth night we reached Nix's Redoubt and we slept safely for the next two nights. We headed out, since Nix's Redoubt is barely more than a couple of walls, houses and a small hydroponics farm. On the seventh night no one went missing, but we saw an IPHA scout searching the area to the East. I got on the shortwave and checked back to Nix's Redoubt once the scout had gone, and luckily they were all fine. On the eight night another three people went missing, including both guards we had posted. No one slept on the ninth night. We camped out in an abandoned house of some sort the tenth night. The twelfth night another man went missing. On the fifteenth night, we arrived here at Kettlesbridge, missing 9 people. I'm going to stay here- the rest of the convoy are leaving again for one of the large settlements in the Green Belt. But this place is big enough to have an antenna, and they're a welcoming lot, so I don't have any reason to leave.

I know it seems like all is lost. I know it seems that the rebellion has come to a halt. I know many of you have lost hope, and that my bitter report didn't better your outlook. But I also know that while the future looks dark, I for one still strive to achieve a brighter future. The Insects struck us a blow at the Marley Rocks facility, and it is out turn to strike a blow against them. While the loss of the facility is a great loss indeed, we still have many other bases of operation and many agents working tirelessly to end this tyrannical occupation of our homes.

Remain strong, remain resolute. Though weakened, we have survived. We have survived, and now we must rebuild, better and more dangerous than before. It is a daunting task, but one I know every man, woman and child must undertake. More importanlty, I know it is one every man, woman and child will undertake, for as long as there has been freedom there have been those fighting to oppress, and as long as there has been oppression, there have been those fighting for a better world.