Interviewed: Samuel Barnes (MTF-υ-4-37)

Interviewer: Dr. Lloyd Quaile (3-91-102)

Time/Date: 01:00 AM, 9/12/2013

<Begin Log>

Dr. Quaile: Alright, Private, I just need to get your debrief and then I'll be out of your hair. How are you feeling? Do you need anything sent to your room?

Pvt. Barnes: No thank you, Doctor. I'd like to just get this over with. I mean, no offense, just-

Dr. Quaile: None taken. Let's start at the beginning - your landing was somewhat unusual?

Pvt. Barnes: Yeah, it was. We couldn't find anywhere within the town to land all the choppers, so Commander Steele instructed us in Chopper Three to land in the town square and work outward while the rest of them set down in a field about five klicks out, set up a perimeter. Wasn't any chain of command between us, so Steele put me in charge, I guess for previous experience. Stuff was pretty quiet when we landed. I don't remember seeing anyone around until after we'd set up the bio gear and headed out.

Dr. Quaile: Bio gear?

Pvt. Barnes: Y'know - hazmat suits, shit like that. Goddamn heavy stuff. Chief Medical told us it was only a precautionary measure, but better safe than sorry, I guess.

Dr. Quaile: Couldn't agree more, Samuel. What did you see once you did set out?

Pvt. Barnes: Stiffs, mostly. A good number of homeless folks who hadn't made it through the night. Handful of brave souls who's tried to make it through work while everyone took a sick day. I had Hide and Beef on bagging duty, so I didn't get a good look, but a lot of them looked like their necks were all swollen up.

Dr. Quaile: That's consistent with the medical report. Many instances presented with goitres this wave.

Pvt. Barnes: Goitres, yeah. Heard Hodgeson mention that, the med guy. Goy -turs. Shouldn't the S be silent?

Dr. Quaile: The debrief, Private Barnes.

Pvt. Barnes: Yessir. We, uh, we found some live ones too, once we started knocking down doors. Some of them only barely hanging on. Lots of places we found trashed - food all over the kitchens, paper covering the floors. We couldn't figure out why. Guess it makes sense now. All the quarantine pods were with the other team, so we just escorted the ones who could walk to the rendezvous point while Hodgeson and the bagging crew stretchered those who couldn't back to the town square.

Dr. Quaile: And it was on the way to the rendezvous when you noticed the library, yes?

Pvt. Barnes: Uh huh. Frogger heard it first, I think. Big commotion coming from around there. I decided we'd bring the infected to the rendezvous first, then head over. Turned out they were right beside each other, anyway. I radio'd it in and Steele gave me the all clear, since they were still about two klicks out. I left Macks and Epi to keep an eye on the infected, brought Frogger, Drip and Iggsie with me to investigate.

Barnes pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath

Pvt. Barnes: It was chaos when we went in. Must have been two, three hundred civilians there, all obviously infected. They were fighting each other over the books. Physically attacking each other. The number of bodies on the ground, not all of them died from the infection, you know?

Dr. Quaile: What were they doing with the books, once they had them?

Pvt. Barnes: Eating them. Fucking gorging themselves. Ripping out pages and shoving them in their mouths. Those who weren't fighting were grabbing scraps from the floor, chewing on discarded covers. I don't get it, doctor - we were told this infection didn't affect behaviour.

Dr. Quaile: Let's just continue with the interview, Private.

Barnes mutters something unintelligible

Pvt. Barnes: Jesus, yeah, let's get this over with.

Dr. Quaile: Let's.

Pvt. Barnes: Initially things went well, I guess. The activity seemed to be centred around a big pile of books in the middle. There was an infected, a big dude, fighting off anyone who came near. I'd say he was late twenties, early thirties. We decided to deal with the rest of the infected first, thin them out. A lot of the weaker ones we were able to just drag out. Couple required more coersion, some chloroform. Chloroform didn't work on all of them, so Frogger and I ended up restraining a lot of them. Everything went wrong when Drip had the bright idea to tell them there were more books outside. Caused a damn stampede. I got Iggsie and Drip to head outside with the horde, try to corral them toward the rendezvous. I was hoping Steele and the rest would have arrived by then, could deal with it. Frogger must have misheard because he headed out too, through a window. Fucking Frogger.

Dr. Quaile: And you were left alone, with the infected?

Pvt. Barnes: It wasn't too bad, honestly. I kept out of the way and they mostly ignored me. A couple of them asked me for help, I just told them they'd find it outside. When the dust cleared… Well, there was only one infected left to deal with. The big guy. Didn't seem like he'd even noticed the stampede. Took a swing at me when I approached, though, crossed whatever line in the sand he'd established. I decided to play it safe, tranq him before things got nasty. That went ok - I think he sprained my wrist, but small beans, really.

Barnes rubs his right wrist, takes a few moments before continuing

Pvt. Barnes: When he eventually fell, though, I heard something. Someone. Under the pile of books. I started digging, found a young woman. I'd estimate eighteen, nineteen. Obviously in distress. It looked like she'd, uh, like she'd pissed herself at some point. When she saw the big guy on the ground, she started screaming, attacked me…

Dr. Quaile: Private Ingwar - Iggsie - reported that you weren't fighting back when she found you.

Pvt. Barnes: I couldn't, doctor. I froze. She wasn't wearing much, just a nightgown, you could tell-

Dr. Quaile: Yes?

Pvt. Barnes: You could tell she was pregnant. I just couldn't.

Dr. Quaile: Your record shows you've successfully subdued pregnant women before. Mkwiro, Kenya?

Pvt. Barnes: Yeah, but this woman… I couldn't help wondering - what if it had been my wife? My kid?

Dr. Quaile: You don't have a wife or child, Private.

Pvt. Barnes: I - Right, yeah. No, of course not, just - I don't know, I guess I wasn't thinking straight. This woman, she wasn't that strong, but she managed to tackle me to the ground, get my hood off. When Iggsie came in, she had no choice but to treat me as exposed - not that I'm saying she'd have tried to cover it, or anything.

Dr. Quaile: You don't feel any resentment toward her? Feelings of betrayal?

Barnes frowns and hesitates before answering

Pvt. Barnes: It is what it is. I'd have done the same. Like I said before, better safe than sorry.

Dr. Quaile: I suppose I still agree. Would you be alright talking about your experience in quarantine?

Pvt. Barnes: Yeah, of course. You wanna hear about the markings, right?

Dr. Quaile: Yes, but tell me about quarantine first. Did you feel you were treated correctly?

Pvt. Barnes: Perfectly. Everyone followed protocol to the letter. They noticed me, obviously, but nobody panicked or tried to rush me through. Processed me like all the other infected. I went through with the same batch as the woman, though she was pretty out of it - I guess Iggsie had hit her pretty hard with the dopey gas. When they got us to strip, I noticed what I thought was a birthmark on her, uh, left breast. I didn't wanna, y'know, stare, but it definitely looked unusual. It was only when I got into the pen that I noticed another guy with the exact same mark, just left of the thingy, the sternum. It was the fucking, y'know…

Barnes makes a circle motion in the air with his finger, but does not continue

Dr. Quaile: Please tell me what you saw, in your own words.

Barnes rocks in his seat, agitated.

Dr. Quaile: Private, are you going to answer my-

Pvt. Barnes: The logo, doctor!

Barnes pulls off his hospital gown over his head. He stands and walks towards the partition pointing towards the marking on his chest. It resembles a circle with three equally spaced arrows pointed inwards.

Pvt. Barnes: Our logo! Fucking Secure Contain Protect.

Barnes punches the glass, then sits on the floor.

Dr. Quaile: I see. How many infected persons would you say had this mark?

Pvt. Barnes: All of them. Every last one.

Dr. Quaile: Interview is ended at this time.

Barnes folds his hands over his knees and remains silent for three minutes. Quaile organises his notes and places them in his briefcase. He removes his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. Quaile shuts off his mic, triggering hidden mics within the room to continue recording.

Dr. Quaile: Samuel… I just want to say I'm sorry about your situation. I know it's-

Pvt. Barnes: You fucking should be sorry.

Dr. Quaile: Samuel -

Pvt. Barnes: No, don't play like you're my friend. I've read the fucking file. Two-five-five-nine. Steele showed it to me, was trying to reassure me everything would be alright if I just calmed the fuck down. Didn't realise it only meant I was more fucked, that I'd been fucked from the second that girl pulled my headgear off. It's like - when you were a kid, did you ever get scared of dogs? I was terrified of them when I was growing up.

Dr. Quaile: My neighbour had a pitbull, treated it badly. I would take a longer route to school so as to avoid it barking at me.

Pvt. Barnes: Right, yeah. And I'll bet at some point a parent or teacher said the stupidest thing ever - that as long as you weren't scared of them, they wouldn't attack, because they could smell your fear. Smell your fear. What kid hears that and doesn't instantly shit their pants? That's what it's like with this thing. Who gets told you don't need to be worried about infection and doesn't immediately worry, in some small stupid corner of their mind? That's where it gets you. Those tiny background worries. It slips in through the cracks. I know we're not supposed to personify it, but… it feels intelligent, doesn't it? Prowling, poking at little fucking fishing towns and villages, letting the rest of us crumble under our own recursive insecurity. When was the last time someone just retired from this site?

There is a long silence in the room lasting almost two minutes.

Pvt. Barnes: You know, I don't remember that woman. In Mkwiro. I've never talked about that before. I have all these patches in my memory, and that mission is the biggest by far. I get flashes, sometimes, nightmares - her standing over me with my biohazard suit, pushing me into quarantine instead of the other way around. So much of that time in my life is… fuzzy. My friends on the squad said I'd changed afterward, seemed lonelier even when we were all together. I figured it was PTSD or something, my own shit to deal with. Thought that's why they transferred me to υ-4 - everyone knows we haven't had a mission in decades. Cushy detail for softies.

Barnes stands and presses his face against the partition, clenching his fists.

Pvt. Barnes: But that's not true, is it? Because I saw the file. Dozens of missions. All places I'd been with other teams. Sesimbra, Chenggong, Kaliningrad…

Dr. Quaile: Samuel, I-

Pvt. Barnes: Mkwiro.

Dr. Quaile: I promise you it was necessary, Samuel. The number of MTF members we lost before we implemented these protocols-

Pvt. Barnes: It was you. The glorious fucking Foundation. Of course it was necessary. Of course it was for the best. You think I don't realise that? It doesn't mean I can't hate you for it. Who was the woman?

Dr. Quaile: I'm so sorry, Samuel.

Pvt. Barnes: Who was the woman, Quaile?

Dr. Quaile: Medical will be through shortly with the results of your blood tests.

[END OF INTERVIEW]