by J. L. Bourne
2326 hrs
John and I led the others to the silo, terminated Baker, and took him, along with Major Tom to an empty room for temporary storage. Power, food, shelter and water seem to be in abundance.
I have no way of knowing if the Internet backbone is still operational. I am currently utilizing this compounds computer system. Most of the secure consoles are still logged in, and many of the non-secure desktop computers are working. Need to figure out a way to get those blast doors shut. Will be looking for the keys to the kingdom in the following days.
Hotel 23
April 1st
0912 hrs
I searched the Baker and Major Tom corpses and found numerous personal items and a notepad. Of particular interest was Bakers notepad containing numerous passwords for the different systems in the facility, and a proximity card for entering certain doors.
This facility is powered by the local power grid along with four huge diesel generators. The local power has not gone out in this area. I have located some technical manuals in the desk drawers of the control room. They outline different emergency procedures and capacities for this facility. One of the manuals stated that if this facility is properly stocked, it would provide air, food, water, and shelter for one hundred people for 180 days.
One problem remains; figuring out how everything works, and where everything is. We have not explored the entire facility for fear that there may be more of the undead lurking in the catacombs of the outer reaching compartments. One thing worthy of mention is that all the manuals have the words, Hotel 23 printed on the covers. A ceremonial wood plaque hangs over the main control console with the same words carved into it in English, and below that in Russian.
The facility galley has a large pantry full of canned food, and numerous items called C rations. I have never eaten one, but I have heard about them from some of the old timers I served with before all of this happened. There are also numerous cases of MREs lining the shelves in the back of the walk in pantry.
John, while working with the computer control system, figured out how to operate the remote cameras outside the facility. No luck on finding out how to shut the blast door. Found the main entrance and exit with Johns security camera. Unfortunately, it is a quarter of a mile away down the access tunnel, and up an elevator. Worse still, the fact that a hundred undead can be seen on the closed circuit television milling about outside the doors.
April 2nd
2007 hrs
I have located a hand written schematic of the facility today. Some of the rooms dont match the schematic. I assume because some areas may have been added to the facility since it was drawn.
We plan to fully clear out the interior of the bunker by tomorrow. It stinks like rotten flesh and old fruit.
April 4th
1535 hrs
While rummaging through the living area of the silo yesterday, I found Capt. Bakers personal diary. It dates back two years to March. It pretty much outlines everything that happened here since the beginning. I have not read it in its entirety, however I plan to do so in the coming days.
Found this interesting:
Captain Baker, USAF January 10th
I have been ordered to alert status here at Hotel 23. We keep receiving startling communiqué from missile command regarding our new coordinates for the alternate target packages. Although the coordinates are not in plain language, I have seen enough of them to know that the data we are inputting will not point the nukes overseas. We are confined to the silo on alert status until further notice. Luckily, I thought to bring almost a dozen books with me this time, unlike the last drill we were running. My superiors seem to feel that this epidemic may pose a real problem to our security.
We made an attempt to thoroughly clean the interior today. From time to time, I can hear a mechanical/electrical sound kick in from another area inside the bunker. I have a feeling it is some sort of air filtration system. We cleared most of the silo yesterday, all except the room marked, environmental control. There is a heavy steel door with a cipher lock blocking access to the interior. The notepad taken from the officer a couple days ago had no useful codes for this particular door. John found a folder on the desktop of one of the launch control computers.
The non-classified computers are using Windows, however the secure tempest resistant boxes are running some form of Linux that I have never seen. John has been using some sort of DOS like nonGUI (graphical user interface) to explore the computer. He has been able to bring up numerous color aerial photographs of the same area (unknown), only it seems like every time, he accesses the folder with the photographs, and selects the same filename, it shows a slightly different photo, i.e. different cloud placement, or some other minute detail.
Also on the list to access is a large seven-foot tall, thick steel safe marked ARMORY. Unfortunately there is a rather large padlock in place on the front of the safe, temporarily barring access. I havent really gotten a chance to get to know Tara, but she did reveal just how curious of a person she really is. She did not like the idea of not being able to see what was in the safe, and searched the bunker for three hours, digging through boxes trying to find something that would be useful in cutting the lock. No joy.
On a side note, all of the toilets in this facility are similar to airplane latrines. Dry bowls. I suppose it conserves water. Which reminds me of the water supply here. We found a large rectangular tank in the diesel generator rooms marked potable water. Using the butt of my rifle, I tapped the side of it until a hollow sound resonated through the chamber. It was over 3/4ths of the way full. The tank is roughly 20ft × 10ft × 5ft. I will do calculations in the coming days as to how much water we can and should be using.
A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words
April 6th
2144 hrs
It should have been obvious the reason the photos that John was pulling up on the secure UNIX computer were changing. They were near real time satellite imagery. John figured out what it was last night and also figured out how to zoom the photos down to what the computer indicates is .2-meter resolution. Using rough coordinates in the road atlas, we were able to see detailed photography of what was left of the San Antonio area.
It was difficult at first to interpret the overhead angle of the photos. Also, the color wasnt tweaked very well, making the photos look a little off. After numerous command line inputs, John zoomed down to a one thousand meter resolution and we were able to see a good section of what was left of downtown. The photo was a few minutes old according to the time stamp, due to the fact that the satellite was configured to automatically photograph a certain footprint at a certain time. John couldnt figure out how to get the bird to take a snapshot on demand.
Studying the photo, I could make out numerous destroyed buildings, and even some of those creatures that must have wandered back after the initial blast, attracted by the sound and light. I could also make out a group of them huddled around something. John zoomed in the best he could to the center of the group of corpses.
The group was fighting over the carcass of a large rat. I suppose a picture really is worth a thousand words. John and I plan to go city by city, entering coordinates and attempting to gather any information we can on what cities were destroyed and which ones still stand. This will take some time, but worth the peace of mind, or lack thereof.
Jan and William have settled into one of the larger compartments, with Laura. John told them it would be fine by him if Annabelle slept with Laura at night. John knew the dog helped Laura deal with our situation, as Annabelle was something familiar from a world long fucked.
Yesterday, Tara and I went topside to check the perimeter, as the camera near where we climbed in only covered the launch bay doors. Kind of ironic how John can figure out how to look at a dead mans wristwatch from a thousand miles away with a satellite, but cant seem to figure out how to get our back door closed. I have to give him credit as he has proven himse
lf a good friend and a very adaptable person.
April 8th
2324 hrs
After a few days of figuring out coordinates with many failed attempts, we have come across cities on the satellite photos that are confirmed destroyed by either nukes, or more conventional MOABs.
I wanted to use the birds to see my home back in Arkansas, but they didnt seem to work above a certain longitude. San Antonio, New Orleans, San Diego, Los Angeles, Dallas, and Orlando and probably New York have been destroyed and we have confirmed that dead walk the ruined streets. This is a definite blow to the groups morale, including my own. John and I, using a larger resolution in order to see a more wide view of the cities, saw mass devastation. Not even one of the photos displayed any living human. Some of the groups we were seeing reminded me of old photos of the Woodstock crowds. There was no way to count, but I estimate there are millions of undead in highly radiated areas of ruined cities. There is no telling how many walk in unaffected areas of the United States. We are hopelessly outnumbered and worse, there seems to be no fragment of any government remaining.
John and I attempted to gather satellite intelligence on the more northern states, but were unsuccessful due to the fact of the limitations of the satellite footprint (area of effective satellite view). However, I was able to find some information on the fate of New York City.
Upon closer inspection of the command and control area, I found a black briefcase with a double spin lock set to the numbers 205 on both sides wedged between two consoles. The case was unlocked, and inside was a printed message.
I suppose the government used the space and missile command to take up the slack for the rogue pilots. They must have foreseen this coming as Baker commented on his new target packages well before the pilots decided to disobey orders.
April 11th
1233 hrs
Still no key to the small arms locker. I am debating on whether or not it is worth it to go out into an urban area to retrieve the necessary equipment needed to cut the lock off. A cutting torch would be optimal, but I doubt I would be able to procure one. It may have to be a hacksaw. Bolt cutters would be useless, as the lock bolt is so large, no cutters I have seen would get through it.
John found the access code needed to get into the environmental compartment. It was embedded in the file system in the facility control folders. As with any new area we were very cautious about going in. John held the door and waited for me to give the signal. I dreaded shooting anything in this compartment, as I did not want the ricochet to damage any vital systems inside. John slung the door open, it was very dark.
I pulled my NVGs down over my eyes, and switched them on. Walking in, I saw no danger. The room was very clean. Finding the light switch on the wall, I pulled the goggles back up above my eyes and flipped the switch. It took a few seconds for the fluorescent bulbs to kick in. The room touted a huge air cleansing system, of which I have no idea how to adjust or maintain. There were equipment racks holding all sorts of environmental monitoring gadgets. Right of the bat, I noticed two different varieties of gas masks, and also five Geiger counter devices sitting side by side in a neat row. The gas masks were without filters, as the filters were still sealed in the tins sitting next to the masks. I counted ten gas masks of both types, twenty in all.
On the floor there were several boxes that had C.B.R. suit stamped on the side. Using my knife, I carefully cut away the tape and found that each box contained ten olive drab chemical, biological, and radiological protective suits, sealed in plastic. Also in the box, was a set of specifications and instructions on how long and how much exposure a human can expect to take while wearing the suits.
It is clear that this facility was designed to endure a nuclear attack. I just dont understand why there were only two officers stationed here, and no other VIP survivors. Maybe the world fell apart to quickly, or this outpost wasnt even on the map. That brings up another important item. It was only yesterday when I found out where we were. It seemed like a long time ago when we left the Bahama Mama, and blindly ran into this place after what seemed like days of walking, taking turns carrying Laura and Annabelle. Using satellite imagery, John found our location. We estimated our general direction of travel from the shoreline, and used the atlas to enter in coordinates.
We first had to find the boat. We then adjusted our coordinates and resolution northwest in baby steps until we found the wreckage site where the fireman was hanging from the hydraulic ladder. After this, we kept walking the coordinates, painstakingly northwest again, until we came upon the facility.
It was easily seen, as the gaping hole of the launch bay was an obvious flag. John marked the exact coordinates on a piece of paper. Just to make sure we were looking at the right photo, I took a roll of toilet paper up topside, made sure the area was clear, and made a giant letter X with the toilet paper near the open launch bay doors.
After about fifteen minutes of waiting, John re-entered the coordinates and sure enough, the toilet paper X was immediately visible from the one hundred meter resolution we had entered. Keeping the same coordinates, we zoomed out to two hundred kilometers of resolution. Though we could not see our facility, we knew it was center screen, because that is how the program works.
We were able to determine using the atlas, and the photo, that we were near the small town of Nada, TX. The bad news was that we were also about sixty miles southwest of Houston. Houston was not destroyed in the nuclear campaign and remembering the photos we pulled up on the 8th, we knew it was crawling with the undead. Using the CCT cameras we can monitor undead movement at the main entrance, however using the satellite photos, we can attempt to monitor the big picture now that we have our exact coordinates.
Knock, Knock
April 12th
2219 hrs
I have not mentioned/documented much about the entertainment value of the facility. There is a lounge area, equipped with television, VCR and DVD player. Numerous DVDs line the inside of the wood case the TV is sitting on. After opening the case and checking the contents, I came across one of my old favorites, Omega Man on VHS. For some reason, I just cannot bring myself to watch it, sort of like watching a war movie while still on the battlefield.
I have taken to running the perimeter fence during the day. I check the CCT monitor prior to going outside, to make sure the crowd is still where I saw them last, hopelessly clawing at the thick steel door at the front of the facility. After almost fifty laps around the perimeter fence, I come in, and take a very short shower. I usually time myself so that I can conserve water. This reminds me of boot camp, and officer candidate school, where I had to put the shampoo in my hair before getting in the shower to save time in the shower. I have my time down to one minute.
The others dont seem to have the discipline, or the concept of conservation. I cant expect everyone to act like a machine I suppose. Perhaps that is my problem lately. I have been so shell-shocked that I have reverted to logic and emotionless response to deal with the situation at hand.
After checking the facility thoroughly a few days ago, we now have a suitable entrance to get in and out without having to climb the silo ladder every time. There were stairs that led up to where we thought was the shed sized brick building with a grey painted steel door. Since this access door led to the surface near the launch bay doors, we thought it best and safer to use it.
Tara and I spent time together today. We are becoming friends. Under close supervision, She and I let Annabelle and Laura outside to play in the perimeter area. Yesterday afternoon John and I went outside. Using some twine and four wooden stakes taken from the maintenance compartment, we made a make shift fence around the launch bay door area. I didnt want any of us accidentally falling in. Obviously, we still have not figured out the coding needed to operate the bay doors. John seems to know how to access the right area of the computer system, but he just doesnt want to make a mistake and open the main doors in front of the complex. Opening
Pandoras Box would let hundreds of those demons inside, forcing us to quarantine a large part of the compound.
After watching Laura play outside with Annabelle, I forgot about the undead for a while. It wasnt until half an hour later, when the wind brought the moans of the dead to my attention did I remember the dire circumstances that brought is here to Hotel 23. I rushed them back into the facility just as the wind started carrying the smell of rot along with the symphony of horrible moans.