Aleksandar (Aleksy) Nikolich is a twenty-four year old paramedic born in Novi Pazar, Serbia. His childhood was rather normal, until his seventeenth birthday. While this change was not necessarily negative, it effected Aleksandar in a major way. Growing up, he had made several friends and a couple best friends who he thought he'd spend the rest of his childhood and early adulthood with, at least. He enjoyed his neighborhood, his school, and his friends, and all of these relationships had to come to an end due to the company his father was employed in taking a sudden interest in previously untouched Chernarussian natural gas reserves in 2010. His father, a general manager of the company's equipment assignment and export, was given a two-week notice to pack up their things and move into a company apartment in Chernogorsk. Saying goodbye to his friends and life as he knew it was tough, but obviously inevitable.
Two years after moving into the comfortable apartment in Chernogorsk, Aleksy had become well-acquainted to his much more rural lifestyle and the culture around him, and was able to speak decently fluent Chernarussian. He did, however, maintain his original high-school interest in medicine, and by twenty-years old, he was attending a local medical school to become a paramedic. He spent three years in school, and found a job in his hometown, at the Chernogorsk Hospital, and by eight weeks into the job he had finished training, and become a paramedic at twenty-two years of age.
Over the five years working as a paramedic, Aleksy had seen endless horrendous things, but nothing prepared him for what he responded to on the evening of July 12th, 2017. For weeks now, he had been on-hand at the hospital filling in for nurses who were visiting family and such due to the most recent events. One of the veteran doctors, Dr. Baskov, called him and his team in for briefing. Aleksy nervously walked down the overcrowded hallways, and turned into Dr. Baskov's office, where the other three of his team members were waiting. The sixty-five year old doctor's eyes filled with dread as he scanned over our worried faces. He cleared his throat, and said; "You will be dispatched to the interstate south of Turovo, where a traffic jam has caused widespread chaos. All we know is that the local fire departments and hospitals are struggling to maintain the situation, and it's our duty to provide any assistance we can." He nodded to us, "Get out there and do your best. Good luck." We set out to the garage, and loaded up the paramedical van with the necessary supplies. Our driver, Taras, climbed into the driver's seat, while me and a woman I had not met yet piled into the back, securing the gurney. The car-ride to the site was eerily quiet. Not one of us spoke due to the millions of thoughts racing through our heads. All of us had been made aware of the situation due to news outlets, and up to this point had been awaiting fearfully until we were called upon to fulfill our duties as EMTs in such a chaotic situation. We were the front lines of a war who's only victor was death.
We pulled up to the scene, our bright red and blue lights illuminating the area surrounding us. We were stopped by a CDF checkpoint, who checked our IDs and instructed us to put on medical masks. They opened the gate, and we pulled over to the side of the road, where a line of cars which seemed to go on for miles lay before us. Police cruisers and other ambulances lined the back of the jam and the sides of the streets, and the sound of distant gunfire, shouts, and horns filled the air. Me and the other young EMT jumped out of the van, and immediately a gurney with two sickly-looking people was pushed up to us by an extremely stressed-out police officer. "What the hell is this?" Aleksy exclaimed as the police officer turned to leave. He turned back around, and said; "Listen, buddy. I have been out here for eight straight hours, and the situation is only getting worse..." He looked down, tears welling up in his eyes. "Fuck this, I didn't enlist to be thrown out here as some shitty last-resort..." The cop backed up, eyeing Aleksy with a terrified gaze. He turned around, and rushed to his cruiser. Aleksy stood there, confused by the ordeal. But he was quickly snapped out of his trance when a loud, very close gunshot followed by an ear-piercing scream filled the air. Aleksy jumped, and turned to face the traffic jam, and saw people frantically rushing through the lines of cars as if they were being chased. Rapid muzzle flashes and gunshots popped off just a hundred meters down the traffic line. Aleksy pushed past fleeing civilians to get closer, as more and more people flooded out of the rows of vehicles. Police officers sprinted past him into the fray, their sidearms drawn and their radios going off like crazy. They were quickly followed by CDF members, who immediately opened fire on something just ten cars infront of Aleksy. All Aleksy heard was an inhuman sounding screech, and automatic gunfire before he turned around, sprinting for the paramedic van as larger and larger volumes of frantic civilians shoved past him. He arrived back to where his van was to find out that his team had taken off on him. He panicked, looking all around him for a way out. CDF soldiers and police officers desperately tried to take control of the increasingly worse situation. Aleksy decided to follow the wave of people running down the dark road, who eventually reached the heavily armed CDF checkpoint who had stopped his van earlier. They had their weapons raised, spotlights on, and a speaker who was blaring the same repeated message; "Everyone stay calm and remain in an orderly fashion, or face swift
consequence." CDF units forced the huge group of people into a messy line, and harshly apprehended anyone who resisted. Panicked yells filled the air, as more and more people arrived to the back of the crude lines. The CDF was eventually overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people, and eventually the infected that managed to break through defensive lines further back.
Aleksy was shoved forward, falling onto his knees as people shoved and trampled over eachother to get away from the storm of chaos that ensued directly behind them. The CDF forces on the checkpoint opened fire into both the infected and fleeing civilians, but were quickly overrun by the stampede. Aleksy struggled to his feet, luckily only being stomped on once or twice, rather than trampled to death. Something lunged at him from behind, but tripped over a fallen traffic barrier before reaching him. Aleksy looked over his shoulder at the thing for a brief moment. Something that was once a young police officer, but was now a snarling, clawing shell of what it once was. Aleksy clumsily ran away, quickly clambering over the traffic barricade, nearly getting knocked over by someone behind him. He bolted into the forest to the right of the interstate, narrowly escaping the hellhole that was that traffic jam.
After that traumatic event, Aleksy had abandoned all motivation and hope to return to his original life. No matter what they had showed people on the newspaper and television, nothing could prepare a person for experiencing it first-hand like he had. Aleksy eventually stumbled upon a small, rural farmhouse in a wheat field west of Ostry. He holed up there, surviving on what the old owners had left before evacuating, which was luckily two-weeks worth of provisions, and a double barrels shotgun accompanied by a half-empty box of shells. Aleksy finally emerged when his provisions had run dry, not even a slight bit ready to face his brand new reality.