This journey to the missile silo is even more dangerous than any of us anticipated. Walking through the city is absolutely terrifying. You can barely see where you're walking, there are loud, agonized screams of afflicted beings (human and non-human) echoing from the allies, and there are so many hurried, wet footsteps in all directions; bare feet pound against blood-soaked pavement, always just within earshot.
A few afflicted jumped our group during today's hike, but for the most part they seemed to busy running... running away from the city's center and toward its outskirts. Unfortunately, the missile silo is in the outskirts of Dublin, too.
We're about a quarter mile from the silo, according to our map. We can see a small building on a hill in the distance. Sergio thinks that the silo is near that. The problem is, it's surrounded by a large fence... and that fence is surrounded by afflicted humans. There are even a few afflicted hounds prowling the hillside.
Sergio thinks we're in for a fight, so he had us hole up in a small house on the edge of the city. We've cleared out a bedroom with an attached bathroom. Of course, we can't actually flush the toilet, but it's nice to have something more civilized than the corner of a bedroom for our... business.
There's a window--edges and cracks fully sealed, as per protocol--through which I can see the hill we're approaching, tomorrow. Even through the fog (which is much thinner, here on the outskirts), I can see that more and more afflicted are gathering, there.
I'm terrified of what I'll find, tomorrow. How many more afflicted will have arrived when I wake up?
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The Imperfect's Journal: 2
General FictionMemory loss, chronic pain, tremors. These three characteristics of Darren Stratt's illness raise the difficulty of Darren's exodus from the United States, a country that has decided he is "subhuman" and "imperfect", just like anyone else the governm...
