Personal Log – Commander Quinn Carter

Entry Seven

Viande.

Carne.

Meat.

Meat.

Meat.

We are the meat.

I think that Laurie had it easy. That sounds crazy, but that plane never came up and there’s no sign of her, so I can only assume she drowned.

Maybe for a minute or two before the plane went down, she was like them, but then, it was over.

I don’t know when it will be over for those that were left behind. She Infected Doctor Williams, and he infected Isaias, and he infected a prefab full of people, and…

It’s not going to end.

It was never supposed to end.

I used to think that people weren’t supposed to die here, but now I know the truth.

It all makes sense. The government weren’t interested when I asked for help, they’ve basically abandoned us. They knew that this place was cursed. They must have known. They surveyed this island again and again. There’s no way that they missed this.

We were all collateral damage. Our lives traded for votes. They can send migrants here to die, again and again, because they know that the curse will get them.

It all started down in the chasm. Something evil is in the ash pit, and it’s found its way inside so many of us. More and more of them have been infected and it won’t stop until they all succumb to it.

It’s a sickness, born of the devil, baring its teeth and hungry for meat.

The infection spread through the camp when the moon hung high above us, watching in stunned horror as the infected fell to their knees, howling and hurtling towards the others. Their bodies were devoured by dark fur, fangs snapping and shining in the moonlight.

Laurie probably wasn’t even patient zero. This curse is ancient, and it’s hard to tell if she was infected by a local or one of the officers that was already here. We’ll probably never know.

It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s all over.