I woke up in the late afternoon, alone in the woods near Zug. I knew there would be friendlies at sunset north of Prigorodky, so with no compass but a good knowledge of the lay of the land, I set out by myself, navigating by sight again.
Over the radio, Yvnu and Jarnid call out a contact. I'm still more than five minutes away, so I abandon caution and any semblance of stealth and make my way at a dead run through the darkening forests. Jarni catches one and goes down, but Yvnu takes out the guy before he can get the weapons and gear off Jarni. The old =TOG= one two. Very few people take down one of us and live to eat our beans.
I break the treeline behind Dorky, flip the AKsu over to semi auto and move in to get loot. As happens to so many people, yvnu was having trouble getting to the gear on Jarni and we lost some of his stuff, notably his good pack. The CZ he picked up glitched too. I withdrew to the treeline and laid down to keep a watch. A footstep behind me was the last thing I heard, before death took me...
I woke again on the beach, still trapped in this waking nightmare, cursed to die, come back to another hard, short life of fear, lack and impossible horrors. I found myself near where the train line hits the coast at cherno to service the docks there. I went low, slipped the familiar grip of the makarov into my hand and set out to regroup. Over the radio, more contacts at Dorky, Veilo has justvetilated the mug who capped me, and has his eyes on another survivor stalking into a firing position on Yvnu. Things are getting tense, and I urge Veilo to put some suppressing fire in to put the guy's head down and maybe help Yvnu eyeball the guy. It work perfectly, the ambusher becomes the ambushed, he can't think or fire, the turnaround is coming. Before all this plays out, the server crashes, we switch to a parallel dimension, still in Chernorus.
A brief stint in chernogosrk netted us some weapons and food, We heard shots to our north, near the firestation, first thought was someone had been found by the zoms. But the answering bust of semi auto gunfire told a darker story. We bugged out away from the drama, flanked around to the west then headed north and kept going. I hate Cherno, the less time I spend there the happier I am.
We were picking over the slim findings in a barn when another survivor walked in the front door. Jarni didn't stop to ask any questions, he flicked the weapon over to full noise and wasted the guy. We snatched what we could from the barn and bolted north again to the next hamlet. The zoms there were thicker but we found what we needed most, enough food for everyone and some spare. We ate a rushed feed of cold beans and the radio crackled again. One of our own was blacking out from hunger and losing blood. The situation was pretty FUBAR and taking the initiative, Gidz and myself set off again at a dead run through the forests we're now learning well enough to run through at night. Unfortunately Yvnu was left behind, but the situation at hand was more dire so four of us kept going.
When we arrived at his last location, we spread out along the road and told him to get in the middle of the road. I was furthest north, and it was me who spotted him, starving and using the last of his energy to run south, hoping to meet one of us. The last time we'd stopped to get a fix on him I'd put beans in my pack so he was able to take them as soon as we hooked up. A feed, a transfusion and he's back in peak condition. Mission accomplished!
After this effort I needed some rest, and while I rested, I was left to my own in the peace of the woods again.
When I woke back up about half an hour later, I found those of us who were still awake and foraging had gone west. Again, trusting the cover of darkness and my knowledge of the terrain, I set out at a "dead" run across the valleys, eating up the miles between us easily and quickly, but getting my hungrythirsty going in the process.
Without a compass or a map, I grin as I near the treeline 30m directly behind the deerhut I was aiming at. Pasta, coke, sandbags and some trash. You beauty! I pack away the sandbag and scoff the food and drink, then toss some empty cans out and try the next stand. A few AKM mags, some ammo for someone's G17. I look beside that, and there's a G17. Byebye makarov. Some flares to toss away too. Coming down the ladder a zom spots me and next thing you know I've made a racket, used some of the G19's ammo and lost half my blood. I patch myself up best I can and then it's a quick, half blind scoot through the scrub out of sight of the zoms, into a culvert and moving a little more cautiously but still quickly again to our RV, well ahead of time and in familiar country, luckily.
Well, we hook up at last, and I get a blood bag into me and I'm feeling like a million bucks. Everyone but me and Spirit have gone to sleep. We look at where we are. We look at the time. We think, lets try going further north, just the two of us. I'm feeling more than lucky, I'm feeling downright special. Tonight's MY night, I know it in my gut. Luck is on my side. Old mate's just slipped me an AK but bugger all ammo, I've got a zombie stopping hand canon in my belt, the moon's obscured by clouds. Let's do it. So we do it.
Our approach was golden. Nobody spotted us, didn't have to fire, spent more than half the time running. We scoped out the best places to ambush someone doing what we were planning to do. Last place we're checking before dropping into the camp, I see a flash of light, just for an instant, about 100m to my left. I drop prone, Spiritwalker goes down too, and thirty seconds later, three blokes run not 15m right past us in the grass. If I had ammo in that AK who knows if I'd fired or not. But I didn't, the point was moot. We let them go. Moments later, we both black out (server crashes.) We wake up shortly afterwards, with a sense of being very alone. My gut is telling me to get up and go for it. The best loot spawn in the game is within spitting distance. We hit it.
Second tent, I hit the jackpot. A DMR. One mag. 20 rounds. It goes over my shoulder and the empty AK goes in it's place. A quick look around, but no pack. I snatch some meds and more ammo and we book out the way we came, undetected and unmolested. Perfection. My first raid on Stary Sabor nets me the best rifle around. On our way out, halfway between two towns, we spot a downed chopper with six or seven military looking zoms milling around it. Target practice. I retreat 300m and prop on a hill 450m from the chopper. 15 round to kill the six zoms in the dark, the first half a dozen rounds went way too high and it took me too many shots to find the range on the thing. I made enough racket to wake the dead, but it didn't matter because they were already awake. Spirit finds no loot in the now cleared chopper, and decides to pull back to a bit of light cover and set up a cold camp for the night.
I'm still getting the lucky feeling. Against all good sense, but trusting my gut, I head back into the base at stary sabor. Jackpot 2, electric boogaloo. M16A2 M203. It's a tough choice, but I decide to put down the DMR for the more effective assault weapon, hoping to pick it up if I can find a decent pack, but not caring much when the ground eats it. Better that thing glitch out of existence than be taken off my body and used on some hapless survivor. Next tent, Assault pack. Next tent, AKS74U and three mags. Also a map, more g17 mags, painkillers and an agro zom eating me through the tent. Wait, wut? I up and leg it, bleeding bad and trailing my new buddy. I break clear of the camp and pick up another mate, this one a sprinter, so I get up for another dead run 150m away. I turn around near blind and put one round into the bridge of the sprinters nose and two more into his forehead at 30m, the one in the forehead of his buddy at 5m. I'm bandaging myself before he even hits the ground, but it's my very last one, and that's a bad look, and I know I left some in the tents, and I'm still feeling lucky, so I go back in a third time to staryy, the second time solo. This time, with 4000 blood, can't see, it's night and I'm shaking. But who dares wins, right?
I hit up where I'd dumped some loot earlier, and grab a smoke grenade. I throw it to the far end of the camp and loot quickly while the zoms yell at the smoker. A few tents in, I get painkillers. After that, two bandgaes a watch but no food or bloodbags. Then the first hint of a feeling I'm pushing my luck cuts in and that's me done, out at a crouch and moving. Three or four minutes later, just before I cross the road to head south through open fields I her gunfire coming from behind me in the direction of the camp. I'm smiling as I run, again half blind through the night, and once again feeling lucky Good old spidey senses, ignore them at your peril.
Well you can't log with no food or water, so I beeline for the lake near Vybor to drink and fill my canteen. I poke into pustoshka silently, check the supermarket. Czech pack, food, matches, compass. Worth the tension. I transfer the AK from the assault pack into my new pack and hear a footstep in the back room. I turn my gun to the door and a shadow inches into the doorjam. Nice people don't sneak, so I put the shadow down with three rapid headshots, and leave the place at a dead run, not even checking his body on my way. Three zoms follow me out of town and I spend three more shots, one each to various parts of each their blood smeared faces. Counting my blessings and not knowing if the shadow had a mate, I make a fast run into the woods and bug out south. I dropped to my guts in the dirt, the rush of the chase ebbing away as I cracked open a tin of pasta and rolled under a pine tree. Curled around the treetrunk I piled fallen pine needles over me for camo and comfort. My last thought as I fell asleep, how far is the nearest =TOG= survivor with a bloodbag, and how damn lucky can a bloke be in a world this messed up.
Last edited by Noises; 7th June 2012 at 08:48 PM.