The Libido Virus Record

"

Let's see if it works. Might need new batteries. Hang on....no it's recording.

"

Ok. My name is Amanda Henderson, and this is my first recording! Journal. Entry, maybe. Where should I start? We are currently in a camp in Chattanooga. We've been here for three days. Before that, we were in a smaller camp in Alabama, though I don't really remember the name. We weren't there long. Scott and I left Atlanta early, once things started to get odd. We got out just as the military arrived. I think the city fell about two weeks later. We had been staying in a hotel, but everything went to shit and we ran with everyone else.

"

Let me go back a bit before that. I host a history podcast and work, well worked, as a field reporter for WABE out of Atlanta. My boyfriend, Scott, and I lived in a nice apartment in a nice part of town, and we had a nice life. Scott is an architect. In fact, right now he's meeting with some of the army engineers to help plan an expansion of the camp. From what I've overheard, the military guys think some plan they're working on is about to turn things around. Television is pretty much gone, and radio is mostly emergency signals these days. Of course, it's all been a pretty major culture shock for two people who were so connected to their devices. I spent ninety percent of my time working in front of a computer either recording or editing or something. That's why Scott thought of doing this recording thing. He found an old super analog tape deck recorder. I don't really even know how to describe it to anyone born after the advent of mp3 players, but it's the kind of thing you would see in old movies where a detective or a lawyer wants to take a statement. It's kind of awesome, actually. Runs on these big D batteries, and it has these buttons you push down. You have to push in the play and record button at the same time for it to work, which, I won't lie, took me way longer to figure out than it should have. Anyway, after my last panic attack, he pulled some strings with one of his friends in the military. I think the guy found it in an abandoned pawn shop. Scott thought it would be a good distraction, and so far he's been right.

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It's also been pretty helpful that, for the first time in a while, we can actually start to get comfortable somewhere. The first camp was thrown together in an emergency around a school I think. The whole thing was a shanty town and pretty dangerous. There wasn't enough food or water. Tons of people were having heat strokes. More than a few were stealing from others. That place was bad, and I'm glad we got out when we did. Throughout this whole thing, we've managed to be one step ahead of the shit hitting the fan. Scott calls it luck, but he's been pretty fortunate to get in with the right people as we've moved. That's how we got word of the military closing in the Alabama camp and why we left. I hope those people make it.

"

I'm rambling. Normally, I would do a lot of editing and trial runs and all that stuff to make it sound professional. I can't do that, at least not yet. I have a limited amount of tape and a limited amount of battery life. I'm recording this over a copy of the Batman soundtrack from 1988. I suppose I should mention why we're running, though I don't think anyone in the future will need an explanation. People got sick. They turned into these other things. I've noticed people keep calling them 'infected' or victims of the virus. No one seems to want to acknowledge that they aren't sick, not even remotely. They are perfect specimens of health. If you could design a human from the ground up to be absolutely perfect, then that's what those women are. I haven't seen many of them, we only had a little run in with one as we left the hotel. Again, we've been lucky. I've seen videos though. Still, look, I didn't watch a lot of porn, but everyone knows that look. The glammed up to take a massive dick on camera look. That's what people become. Their breasts get huge, and their asses look like they visited a Brazilian plastic surgeon. These women are absolutely gorgeous. Most of them would have killed to get that body, but it's the other side of the coin that is off putting. They lose their minds and turn into full blown nymphomaniacs.

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The one we saw outside of Atlanta had black hair that came down to her shoulders in these long shiny curls. I remember because of how she brushed it over her shoulder before shoving some stranger's dick in her mouth. We were throwing all of our clothes into a car when this siren of a woman struts into the parking lot. The hotel was mostly empty already, but a few doors down was a pair of men, maybe brothers. They were packing up as well, but, the second they saw her, they locked in place. I had no idea what was happening, but it wasn't affecting Scott or me so we grabbed what we had and got in the car. We should have driven away immediately, but it was...compelling, somehow. She moved — they all move — in these erratic bursts of speed to cover long distances, but up close they know how to move their bodies to emphasize what the virus has given them. Each step let her boobs sway and her ass jiggle the perfect amount. It was insane at the time, but one of the guys dropped his pants and held out his cock for her. Her eyes blazed with that eerie green light as she dropped to her knees, right in the parking lot, and started blowing him. The other guy went around behind her, and she happily let him mount her. I have never been so mortified in my life. Finally, something clicked for us, and we got out of there.

"

Whole cities fell to that. New York, DC, Atlanta. And now, apparently, there is a massive horde of sex zombies coming right toward us. But, like I said, we're not overly worried about that. I mean, we're worried. The world has collapsed, and no one knows what they hell they're supposed to do now. Scott and I are two people out of the thousands coming into the city every day. The entire Eastern seaboard is fleeing west. The military has finally gotten itself together though. Tons of troops and hardware have been heading up to the big encampment on the outside of town. The checkpoints are clearing people at a high pace, and everyone is working to make sure the refugees have lodging and food and water. It's amazing what people can do when the pressure is on. No one is sure how long we'll be here, but for the first time in a while it seems like we can get out of this. It's horrible, but these are the kind of events that define generations.

"

Scott should be back soon. He was definitely right about this. I'll record more later."

***

"Entry number four. Amanda Henderson, Chattanooga Tennessee. It's the big day. Rumor is the horde will be here in a few hours. I don't think anyone in the city isn't nervous, but it's mingled with excitement at the same time. Scott left a few minutes ago to check in with our camp leader. Things have gotten better since I last recorded. The army worked out the water problem, and everything is back to normal on that front. Food remains a sore spot with everyone here. No one is going hungry, but at the same time we're all getting pretty sick of canned beans and stale bread. Scott reminds me every day to be thankful for what we have. The lines to get in the city stretch for miles. It's started to become another small village out there. He worries about their safety. It's amazing to me that he can be so worried about everyone else.

"The soldiers have been noticeably more tense lately. Scott took me up to the top of one of the taller buildings where we could see out over the army's camp. I've seen pictures they took of the Allied fleet right before the landing in Normandy, and this may be the land based equivalent. The artillery is set up closer to the city. The barrels on the guns are as wide around as tree trunks. I can't imagine what those shells will do to the infected. All of the old men in the camps have been speculating, telling stories of older wars and how the shells worked there. But those were men trying to survive, digging fox holes, and not walking out into the middle of a sited field to be hammered by the full power of those guns. I almost feel bad for the infected.

"

Don't get me wrong. I'm not one of the lunatics who thinks we can coexist with them or one of those "Humans First" whack jobs. I don't like spiders either, but I don't want to see them eradicated from the planet. The infected were people with lives and families before a virus changed them. I know the generals debated what to do before things got out of hand. I know people are pointing fingers and saying that if harsher measures had been taken immediately then millions could have been saved. All of that is hanging over everyone while we wait, but it's us or them. And none of it absolves us for feeling guilty about the extermination of so much human life.

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People are ready for a victory, though. I overheard a couple yesterday while eating. From their conversation, I gathered they came from Richmond. Their whole conversation centered on what they would do when they got home. The husband worries about people looting the house, and the wife worries about whether or not they'll be able to find their neighbors. I am optimistic. I look forward to the day when Scott and I can go back to our quiet lives, but I'm not naive. We're not going to skip over this massive event like it was a crazy weekend. The whole of human existence from this point forward will revolve around preventing this from ever happening again. Decades of science and research will go into finding out what happened, why it happened, and how it can be prevented. Artists and writers will expound on the shock we've all experienced. Generations will try to cope with the devastation.

"

Sorry. I've been thinking about it non stop for the past few days. Frankly, it's easier to focus on these bigger questions as a way to avoid thinking about the little ones. It's exhausting worrying about where your next meal is coming from and when Scott will be back. That's pretty much all I worry about. He's doing such good work, and his help has gotten us a lot of preferential treatment. Last night he showed me the plans for the camps next expansion. Once the horde is beaten back, they're going to bring in actual construction equipment and start clearing away a section of the town so they can build more suitable housing. People are going to be given jobs, and we're going to start rebuild— Oh. I'm sure it's picking that noise up. Those must be the cannons. It's starting already. Everyone's running to get off the streets. Wow, that's really loud. Let me see if I can....yeah, there's a big cloud of smoke rising up from the artillery positions."

"

Amanda?!"

"Hi honey, what's the matter?"

"Where's your bag? Get your stuff, we need to go."

"

Scott, slow down, did you run all the way here?"

"

Get your things. Now."

***

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Entry five. Amanda Henderson. Somewhere in eastern Missouri.

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It has been nine days, I think, since I last recorded. We've been on the run since then. Um, so, here's what happened. The army had prepared this massive force to stamp out the infected once and for all. Everyone thought this would work, until it didn't. The infected...don't die. At least, that's what Scott says. He's the reason we made it out in time, again. When the shelling started, he was at a lookout post in the north part of the city. They had radios all around transmitting field reports from the advance scouts. All of them reported a bigger force, one moving intelligently. Apparently the generals counted on the infected mindlessly walking into a valley where all their fire concentrated, but at the last minute the horde split and started flanking their position. I don't understand much about it, but that's what Scott says. When he realized that the military could get overrun, he booked it back to our temporary home, and we bolted.

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I wanted to warn the others, but he wouldn't let me. We walked in this panicked rush until we were far enough west to break into a full run. All the while, the guns thundered behind us. People were smiling and cheering while they watched the distant flashes. No one noticed us making a run for it. Not that they would have cared if they did, people left all the time. Well, maybe if someone had recognized Scott. Then the guns stopped. More people cheered, and they waited. I'm sure they were waiting for some kind of announcement, the all clear. Then, just as we were reaching the edge of the refugee area, the sirens started going off. We made it out of the gate before the rush started. I'll admit that, until the sirens started wailing, I thought Scott had lost his mind. I really believed we were safe.

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We cleared the restricted area and hitched a ride on a supply truck for a few miles until we hit traffic. I wanted to wait. Even then, I thought we'd be able to go back into the city after a few hours. I don't know why I thought that. Scott led us away on from the road and into some state forest. For four days, we hiked across a small mountain. We had others with us, a young couple and their older parents. They couldn't keep up, and Scott worried about becoming responsible for them. He'd taken food for us, but not for a party of six. At noon on the second day, we left them at a campsite by a small creek. They planned to stay there. The old man said he could fish. We didn't learn their names. I hope they're all right.

"

The forest broke at the end of the fourth day, but we stayed hidden until the dawn of the fifth. By then, I was covered in bruises, scratches, and a rash. Our stomachs ached from hunger. Every time we left the creek, we risked going dry on drinkable water. The infected drove us on though. On the third day, not far from the camp where we left our fellow travelers, we crossed paths with a pair. Scott noticed them before they could spot us. We hid until they moved on, not breathing the whole time. They were both female, standing in the river, bathing themselves. It was an eerily beautiful moment. Despite how dangerous they can be, they're still absolutely divine looking women. Scott talked excitedly about how the infected displayed intelligent thought and motives. He's convinced they're not mindless at all, but driven by some unseen influence. We both watched them bathe in the small stream before they moved on down current. Then we — hang on, I need to explain this first.

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Scott and I talked about these tapes. He thinks that I have a unique way to contribute to the future, by keeping a log of how we experience all of this. He says that it's important people in the future have a pure record of how our understanding of the infected evolved over time. I don't really agree with that. This is me rambling into a shoddy old recorder to make myself feel better, but a part of that is remaining true to what I've experienced. So, that's why I'm including this next bit. Either so that I can understand it better myself or so that anyone who listens to this years from now will understand what we went through. Ok, here goes.

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After the encounter with the infected, Scott and I both experienced a wave of....horniness, basically. We knew intellectually that running for our lives should be our top priority. Instead, the second the infected were out of sight....no, that's not true. While we watched the infected bathing themselves, I reached my hand down Scott's pants and started jerking him off. A hard cock greeted me as I reached into his pants. The sight of those two women cleaning themselves a short distance away excited both of us. Once they moved on, we progressed. Scott and I had not...fucked since the hotel outside of Atlanta. Sorry if this is vulgar, but it's uncomfortable to use clinical terms. I climbed on top of him, and we crouched low against one another as I humped against him. He didn't last long, after all the show had clearly been very exciting. It didn't matter for me, though. Within a minute of him inside me, I came. Orgasms have never been that easy for me, but this was an earth shattering moment after a nominal amount of foreplay, none of which focused on me. Scott came inside me and stayed hard enough to cum again five minutes later. We fucked in the woods for a solid twenty minutes of pure mindless sex. This is unlike us, to say the least.

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We cleaned up and returned to our trek. We didn't talk about it until the night we waited on the edge of the forest. Scott brought it up first. He thinks the infected emit some kind of chemical that makes your libido go into overdrive. I agree with him. The videos we've seen, the two guys at the hotel, and now our own bodies all testify to the idea that something entrances people within range of the infected. Lucky for us, it doesn't seem to be the actual infection. Our woodland romp happened six days ago, and we have not turned. Although, and I haven't told Scott this, ever since then I've been very horny. It's lessened a little each day, but I've used every chance I can to touch myself. I...I was touching myself when I started recording this.

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After our venture through the forest, we found a car and headed east, staying south of Nashville. We crossed the river near a town called Dyersburg. The military has entrenched themselves in a few spots after blowing the majority of the bridges along the Mississippi. They directed us to a new settlement which then relayed us further into what's being called the Green Zone. They're not messing around now. Where guns couldn't stop them, natural barriers will have to do. The river is the main block to the eastern horde, and the infection hasn't spread past from the West over the Rockies. The only major group of infected are in Texas, and they haven't been moving. Too much desert is the speculation.

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Tomorrow, we're being sent to a new camp. Back into another forest. Scott has been enlisted as part of a team to help set it up. The military is planning long term this time.

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The couple and their parents we left in the forest...nevermind."

***

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Entry twenty seven. Amanda Henderson. Fort Wood Camp.

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I don't think I've recorded since our first month here. We've been very busy. I actually haven't thought much about these tapes. Today, we moved to a new facility. While gathering things, I found the recorder under our bed so I thought I would pick this up again. Let's see, what has happened since my last entry? The camp is pretty settled now. Most of the major influx has moved on West. This base is being used to supply the hold outs in the red zone, and we're being kept on to help. The military upper management is pretty thin these days so they're relying more than normal on civilians to help facilitate things. It's been nice, actually. I work in the supply center. Keeps me busy.

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Scott requested we be moved further west to one of the new settlements. He thinks he can be of more use working with the engineers to set up better living facilities. The army wants him here for some reason. I think it's because we're tagged yellow. Two weeks after we arrived, some army psychologists came around and asked a bunch of questions. All of it focused on how much we'd interacted with the infected. Took a while to figure it out, asking around to the others who have been kept on, but those with no contact moved west almost immediately. Anyone who had interacted with the infected at all were kept on. Scott thinks the army values his input and wants to keep him close so that once the vaccine is fully deployed, he'll be on hand to help rebuild things moving east. But everyone knows deep down why we're still here, and why they lock the gates at night. They're afraid of us.