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  1.  
    The letter is hand-printed in pencil on typing paper. It appears to have been copied out very carefully, though there are some signs of erasure.

    Pilgrims,

    It might seem strange to you that we have not written to you before, but truth to be told, here on Stramonium, The Flying Temple is considered a children's myth, on the order of the Christmas Bunny or the Easter Clause. However, we are running out of food and ammunition, and at this point, frankly, we'll try anything.

    The situation is, well impossible. But I'll give you Dr. Davis Wade's (our sole surviving scientist) summery of the situation.

    No one knows where the plague first originated, but it clearly had two phases. The first, wildfire phase where the plague spread by air or touch, started in Spring. Within a month, over 98% of the world's population was infected. The second phase, the zombie phase, followed immediately afterwards.

    The effects of the plague are same, no matter the method of infection. First, the victim runs a brief, high fever for about a day. Then, they appear to recover, but now have completely lost the ability to sleep without the aid of powerful narcotics. Within 48 hours the victim begins to hallucinate. Within 96 hours, they begin to experience psychosis, coupled with uncontrolled telekinetic abilities (also known as "poltergeist phenomenon"). After 120 hours, 9.99% of the infected slip into the so-called zombie state.

    A zombie, while technically alive, no longer possesses a normal metabolism, but rather, is sustained by their psychic abilities. A zombie has no need to eat and only needs a tiny amount of water to drink. Mentally, a zombie usually has an IQ in the 60 to 80 range. Zombies mostly wander aimlessly in a dream-like state, barely remembering anything of their previous existence. The only two things will usually rouse them from their apathetic state: a threat to their existence, or the presence of uninfected humans in the immediate vicinity. Zombies will attack any uninfected humans they encounter, and attempt to eat their brains. A zombie that consumes at least a quarter of a healthy human brain will regain their full intelligence and awareness for 24 to 48 hours before falling back into their usual daze; this is an addicting experience and a zombie who has once fed on human brains will seek them out vigorously in the future. Zombies appear to be able to sense healthy humans psychically within a range of 30 to 40 feet. The bite of a zombie almost inevitably passes on the plague, even if the subject is immune to the airborne variety of the pathogen.

    The other 0.01% of the infected population becomes something other than zombies. Called "Zombie Masters", "Wizards" or "Brains", these individuals never leave the psychotic phase of the disease, but instead develop vast psychic powers and the ability to command normal zombies to do their bidding. These zombie masters have no particular desire to consume uninfected brains like their minions, but they have been known to hunt uninfected humans down to infect them in attempts to create others of their kind. Zombie masters often war upon each other. Zombie masters are almost always of above average intelligence and creativity before their infection. Zombie masters can exist without food as zombies do, but prefer to eat.

    A recently made (no more than 10 days old) zombie or zombie master can sometimes be cured. The process requires giving them massive does of anti-viral drugs and narcotics (usually morphine). If the zombies can then be kept unconscious for 48 or longer hours, they will either die (the usual case) or recover from their disease. Those who do recover often have the same psychic powers as a zombie master.

    That is what we know.

    So this is our situation -- we are, essentially, doomed. I will place this letter in the chimney of the fortified estate we few survivors are huddled in, and if the old tales are true, it will make its way to you. I don't know if there is anything you can do to help, but at this point, you pilgrims are our only hope.

    Yours,

    Janus Prospero