Nordhausen Essay

“Okay so to get to your family we're gonna need to strike hard into rebel linds. Well have you drop in behind enemy lines and break through using tanks.

S/O EMT Perez was requested by Gate One to assist with an Ambulance escort to CT-403 on the early morning of 8/7/2015. When arriving at gate at Gate One S/O EMT Perez realized that the ambulance crew was already enroot To CT-403. S/O EMT Perez managed to catch up with the Four Butler Private Ambulance Crew Members at the door of CT-403 (due to his stature Mr. Haskey required the Bariatric unit). The resident returning, a Mr. Robert Haskey was reportedly discharged from Holy Cross that night. S/O EMT Perez unsecured the door to let the Butler Associates into the apartment to place the resident in his bed. While Butler was in the process of unloading Mr. Haskey S/O EMT Perez announced his presence and proceeded into the room where Mrs. Mary Haskey

“Very good. Our plan unfolds in five days. General Zhousbek and Lady Sara are in charge of the attack on Parsis. Ace, you will be reporting directly to Lady Sara. You will be working alone on this mission with no support from the rest of your team. Is that acceptable to you?”

Slam! The door behind us slams shut because one of the idiotic crew members forgot I told Steven to be a look out and only four of us were going in. It was Lucy, Frank, Josh, and I going into the Bushnell Police Department. We were in need of ammo or just some type of weapons. Lucy had a crowbar, Frank had a wood baseball bat with nails in it, Josh had a Katana but it was on its last stand, and I had a Glock 19 with two bullets and an old pipe I found when we went through ST.Louis. We are heading north because the “infected” can’t move well when it is cold outside and it helps more if it is snowing. But we ran into a problem. Josh needs a new weapon and Frank got bit on the leg. When someone gets bit they only last about 20 hours then they get a fever, stomach ache, sharp pains in the back or stomach area, and many more problems. So that leaves us here, in a police station with a guy who can turn into an infected any second. Plus we don’t know who or what is inside the station. People that are alive say infected are more of an easy target than humans. We are only 7 meters into the station and I seen something move down the hall. I brought up my gun so that it was eye height with me. We slowly walked down the hall looking from one room to another. Once we got to the end of the station, near the back where they kept the cells, we seen him. It looked like a young boy maybe 17-18 years of age.

“Again, I’m sorry, we aren’t equipped to take on an Armada of ships nor hundreds or even thousands of Soldiers. We’re going home.” Lt. Colonel House told him. “Now it’s time for us to get going, Gupta you can either stay or go, up to you, but we’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”

Focusing my attention back on the PL, I moved to check the one place unseen and began removing his helmet. His head was protected, but tilting his chin back was one thing I didn’t want to do for fear of manipulating a spinal injury. It also is what finally exposed and opened the small hole in his throat from an apparent piece of shrapnel and he began to bleed profusely. I immediately called the medic away from one of the less seriously wounded to help me with the bleeding. I packed the wound but loosely, not wanting to interfere with what was left of his airway and then pulled him up to my lap so I could maintain pressure on the wound. He was still dying. Running out of options, I checked his airway again and manipulated his tongue

What is it?” I ask, interested and eager. He doesn’t give me an answer, not that I’m surprised.

“That face, your overthinking okay? Corries fine, your wife is fine. My bet is their just practicing Army manoeuvres.” Len assures.

“We can’t hold them off for much longer. From the Danube river to the Tibetian mountains they’re lining up thousands of military related items every hour.”

“Yes sir.” said Tom. Tom got up and got into his uniform. Tom was a First Lieutenant and working on a mission in Iraq.

“Have the men captured the rider…” he abruptly stops when he sees the expression the second commander has given him.

“He keeps talking about you. He won’t man up and just call you or come up here to talk to you. He’s been going crazy and even though he’s wipe out all our enemies so far being him the one that’s been doing the work. He’s getting out of hand. He’s anger been getting too wild and it’s causing some of our workers to get scared and dip you know?” He answers my question. I nod my head at him to show I’m listening.

The room reeks of body odour and a strong metallic smell, which follows more often than not after injuries take place. The familiar smell of blood is now an unpleasant effluvium that I recognise all too well nowadays.

Larisharah then clears her throat and stands upright, being extremely careful with her nephew. “Speaking of which, Lieutenant Amald’s methods of training the troops in using the Words is going impeccably well.”

Coming up behind them are soldiers with long metal poles with a sort of rope attached to the end. The General nods.