I am...was a helicopter pilot for the United States Army. I specialized in "less than safe" operations.
Mainly anything that had the words "suicide" and "mission" in the same sentence. You may be asking yourself,
"If you were in the United States Army, why are you in Chenarus?" Well, I was stationed at the Manas Air Base
a little bit north of Bishkek in Kyrgyzstan. After the virus broke out everything went to hell.
I've been travelling from place to place trying to survive. Some days it's easy, some days I barely make it by
the skin of my teeth. I already know my family back home is either dead or turned into one of those brain-eaters.
Damn near everyone is dead or dead...ish. Those of us who are left have been changed by this "apocalypse". We're
tougher. Stronger. And a hell of a lot meaner.
If we aren't busy killing these living dead, we're busy killing each other. The second part has been happening
since man could hold a rock. In a world where everything has changed, it's nice to see that folks can still find
the time to kill one another. I mainly live off of whatever I can scavenge in some of the smaller towns. If you
head into one of the bigger cities you would be digging your own grave. Whenever I can't scrounge up something from
the nearby towns I head into the woods and go hunting. Ammo is scarce, but keeping myself well fed is higher on my
list of priorities.
In this new "post-apocalyptic" world you need all of your strength. Because if you don't have that, then you better
buckle up. Because you'll be going on one hell of a bumpy ride.