My name is Darren Crossbridge,
I am a Cambridge University Computer Science student who graduated back in '05 with a distinction of excellence in my field. I was always interested in creating solutions that helped solve the worlds' greatest problems. How can people in small villages in Kenya get to reliable sources of water and where should these water pumps be placed? How do we cure cancer? These were the ambitious questions I asked myself all the time and were my motivating factor in my pursuit of a Computing job. One way for me to live out this goal was to join the army. I always toyed with the idea even back in High School, (they would pay for my college funds so why not right?). I was always relatively up-to-date with current affairs and heavy into politics both in the UK and in other affairs internationally of global concern. At the time one of these issues was the evergrowing and sceptical relationship of the "Cherno" people and the Russians.
I bit the bullet in 2006 when I enrolled in the UK Armed Forces Intelligence Corps. This led to me getting a behind the scenes look at the UK, and as I'm sure many other countries did, watch the Russians and Chernarus people "work" together. The big wigs over at MI5 were already calling BS on the situation and stated from the get go that the Russians were planning something. I was fascinated at what was in that airbase. The nights I spent looking up info on the base and seeing what was available online, all to mostly no avail. It was an enigma.
As I climbed the ranks in the Intelligence Corps it allowed me to be granted firther access to the dark secrets of my country and the underlying motivations of others. When I was given the opportunity by my leading officer to fly to Chernarus to conduct various experiments in South Zagoria, mainly to analyse the rate of fertility in crops in farmland and how introducing a stable network architecture to the more isolated areas of the country would allow for greater production rates in the case of a natural disaster. Well, a disaster happened alright. I remember as the days went by I would often have to acquaint myself with other CDF technicians and as the tensions rose some even knew the raids were coming. As the headlines reported on the constant bombings and military action my unit was given strict orders to remain calm and be ready to infiltrate the base if an opening presented itself. I knew this was highly unlikely after the decimation of the airbase. Yet I still needed to know.
As the "undead" rose some of our intelligence forces were able to succesfuly pull out. Not us though. We came into complications with reaching extractions as we were technically illegally in the country, military checkpoints were a no go. From that moment on the internet went dark, the lights went out and we as humans were strapped back to the core of our existence. I being nothing but a middle class kid and a pen pusher with no physical prowess or survival experience besides the odd survival show on the discovery channel, was now tasked with using firearms effectively and fortunately some of my team were more adept to these conditions from previous expeditions in other foreign lands such as India and Takistan. Those men and women set me up with everything I needed. Yet it was not enough...
On a cold winters day, only a mere 3 months into our survival, our comms had been off ever since and we had already lost 80% of our crew. Our crew total was originally 10. Me and my commanding officer Chris ahd fought throgh hordes and I he pushed me like I was in a bootcamp for being a true soldier of war even in these circumstances. I often think he knew that he wouldn't always be there and felt it was his duty to ensure that as many of his team that could make it out alive could in his absence. I couldn't fathom a world without him. Yet that day came on that same cold winters day.
We were approached by a group of 5 on a road somewhere inbetween Gorka and Tulga. Before this we had always been relatively passive in interactions with others and never felt a threat, despite our military profession. Yet just the way they walked, the confidence in their strides and the lack of emotion in their cold faces. Something felt different. Chris raised his hand with a smile to say greet the group about 100m away walking towards us. Before his vocal chords had even began to move, BANG. Chris flopped to what I can only imagine was a .308 calibre hunting rifle and I bolted into the trees on my left luckily it was a downhill slope leading into some thick brush. I ended up almost rolling my ankle as I shot off in the direction but dived to safety. I ran and ran and ran for what was probably the accumulation of distance I ran in the entirety of High School. Yet I managed to escape. But only physically. As I know that from this day forward the psychological horror of this day will haunt me forever, and I will must not let Chris' death be in vein.