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Post by dftr on Jul 23, 2010 0:17:01 GMT -8
"T-Tuesday, December 18, 2010...I know this won't do anyone any good, but I'm just so scared. It's been a month since patient X was admitted by the police. We...we thought he was just sick! We never knew it would turn into this...I'm trying to transmit this as far as the signal will let me. If you're hearing my voice, run! Oh God, run as fast as you can. New York is a ghost town...we can't help you anymore. They've broken in...I-I'm so sorry! I love you, Jason."
A month after patient X, and the quarantine on New York was no longer effective. The whole country was in a state of panic. Some survivors met up with others and formed packs, while others believed they were the only ones still alive. There were those who hunted desperately for surviving family members or friends, any kind of familiar face. At this point though, no one is sure of the damage. Nobody is aware if it has spread to other countries or if they are alone in this chaos. All that is known is that death is breathing down everyone's neck and there's no point in trying to fight it. Death is inevitable. Don't fear the Reaper.
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