Raised in America I aspired to go out and help people once I graduated high school. Coming from a background where everything was handed to me on a silver platter, it made this idea all the easier. I remember seeing the news that martial law had been declared early morning of the 3rd. Then a few months later I saw the beginning articles and videos of the actual virus outbreak on the news. I thought that this was the perfect chance to go help people like I had wanted to my entire life. After a few weeks of radio silence in Chernarus I begged my parents to hire a private pilot to bring me to Chernarus. I was raised around guns on a ranch so I knew that I would be able to hopefully handle myself in a situation regarding other people. I also knew I would have the ability to skin and quarter just about every animal I came across. Luckily with my mother being a vet I knew how to help animals through at most simple wraps, which I in turn hoped could be transmitted on a human as well. On the flight over the country I hoped these skills would be useful in helping hurt people in remaining camps. But as I was pushed from the plane and parachuting down into the country, I realized that things were much much worse than the TV had last relayed. Once landing I realized I needed to either fight for my survival long enough to somehow contact a ride home, or stay and do what I initially intended to do.