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The Journal of Dennis Hawkins (Background)

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[Written in a journal Dennis Hawkins keeps on him at all times]

They told me things were bad. The news, the briefings, the sightings. They tried to prepare me.

Nothing prepares you for the walking dead.

Should I die and be killed again, my name is Dennis Hawkins. Civilian. Sent here after minor training while my countries’ proper military focused on securing the border from the expanding influence of the Zeds.

My task was simple, on paper... 'Escort and safeguard a small group of armed researchers behind the line of Infection for two weeks' they said. 'You'll be handsomely rewarded for your patriotism' they said. What patriotism? They plucked me off the street for God's sake. The only reason I accepted was the money. Fifty grand, for a few weeks' worth of work. Risky work, but as long as we'd only be facing the Zeds, we could hide, survive, and I’d return to a full bank account, a renovation of my home and just maybe, finally a chance at getting a secure job, steady income – The works of a decent life.

Things were fine at the start – They taught me how to operate some weaponry, mostly silenced for anti-Zed procedures, basic survival techniques and introduced me to the research team… Only after I finally agreed to work with them, and signed a contract, did they tell me the full details… I should have known from the start things would be bad.

Our objective was Ground Zero. Point Z, the start of the outbreak. To find and secure anything related to what might have started all of this. I grew horrified, and troubled that we had to go to the very worst of bad locations, until the researchers started giving me advice. “Don’t make a sound, and they’ll pass right by you.” “Run uphill and hide if they see you.” “Don’t fire a gun unless there is no way you can escape.”

They talked to me about their earlier expeditions and sightings. Their time in Russia in the earliest days of the infection, and after some weeks of training and advice from the researchers, I started relaxing. From what I heard from the researchers, the Zeds were really no problem at all as long as you could keep your head on straight, so that’s what I set out to do.

I was placed in a class of a sort with my fellow street-picked guards. Yoga, meditation, some nonsense like that – To keep us calm. We were given instruction videos and recording of the chokepoints along the Infection line, to get used to the sight and sound. Drills in forests, to get used to the terrain, how to move. They went on nearly endlessly, until we finally set out.

Our first stop was an advanced base in Poland, along the line of heavy Infection. Some people were still trying to move back, away from the threats. We were moving forward. Heavy backpacks with food for three weeks, cooking equipment kept in some sort of foam to keep it quiet, a silenced submachine gun and sniper rifle, and ironically, a helicopter to move into the region.

That was our big mistake.

On the way to Chernarus, we received several messages from groups in the region, who had set up safe zones. We resupplied in a few of those before we approached our destination, communications with locals giving us the knowledge that, despite its heavy concentration of Zeds, there were safe zones we could probably use, as long as we behaved…

Then, it happened. All at once.

We were approaching the region from the sea when a Chinese vessel asked for our identification. We asked them for theirs, we gave ours, and we thought we were safe – They came across as friendly, wished us luck and even asked us if we wanted to resupply on their ship. We said no, told them we had supplied a few miles back in a locals’ outpost. Then they shot us.

I’m not sure what happened exactly, I just know that our Chinook did not last long, and eventually crashed in the sea not too far from the shore. Myself and some of the other survivors managed to swim the rest of the way and in our exhaustion apon reaching the shore, made a campfire, watch schedules – The whole loop, to stay alive. No Zeds approached.

By the next day, we’d taken on a command structure. Doctor Simmons, leader and one of two survivors of the researcher group, remained in charge. Lana Baker was placed in charge of the remaining three guards, including myself. We had one map, and the good Doctor knew his stars, and so the next day we picked up our gear – What little remained, and walked inland slowly.

Things went relatively well. Few Zeds in the hills, we had plenty of food and the company was diverting, if not entertaining despite the gravity of the situation… Things changed, however, with our first close encounter. Bob Hillock, another of the guards, died while on watch, too fire-blinded to see the walking corpse that proved his death. Lana avenged him, then shot another bullet through his brain for safety. I got a little sick at the thought of Bob, with half his face eaten off, getting back up to try and kill us.

We moved through the night for the first time that night, and Larry was the second to vanish. Paranoia and constant threat, coupled with the darkness must have caused him to run away. I tried to chase after him, but Lana stopped me. Several minutes later, an echo of a scream resounded through the mountains. We ignored it, and continued on. We had our objectives – To reach the safe zones in Chernarus, then… Survive.

As time went on, the Zed density increased, places became harder to slip through. Meditation was starting to be less of a daily requirement to keep our sanity – We grew used to the death. The stink. The constant threat… We were no longer who we once were when we left Poland – Even the relatively meek doctor Simmons had grown harder, stern. Then he cracked. Pressure must have gotten to him, I don’t know, but he lost whatever sanity he had. Started screaming, saying he was asleep… And jumped off a cliff. We tried to continue with what we had now, with Lana taking the lead… In one of the towns we went through for a supply run, I fell, cut my knee on a broken car. My companions were nice enough to drag me to a relatively safe place – High, dry, nowhere near the usual Zed sites.

Then they left me.

That was three weeks ago – I’ve been trying to track them down for the last full week as I made my way to Chernarus… Which is probably a wasted effort – Found the remaining Docs’ corpse two days ago… But I should be getting close to the Trading Post now… Hopefully, there’ll be a proper bed, or at least security there, so I can sleep properly… And just maybe, some help with getting myself some ammunition, or a gun. Or information… Either way, all that’s left is to survive.

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  • 3 weeks later...

((Warning, this post contains hostile sentiments of a disillusioned survivor - All thoughts and implications, except for the very last one regarding 'I've seen him with Vasily before' comment, are strictly IC - My OOC opinion is not reflected by this IC journal in any way.))

It's been a few weeks since my last entry, but then, quite a lot of things happened...

First things first; I succesfully made it to this Trade Post, had some good, civil talks with some of the locals, and others stranded here like me... Thought this was a decent place those first few days - Low bandit activity, friendly medics, friendly militia with helicopters, patrolling and resupplying to aid survivors.

Thought I could help.

I located an old military vehicle just a few days after arriving at the Trade Post... Pristine condition for the most part, ignoring the horrible paint job, and it only needed its tire patched up a little, and its engine un-clogged. Only took me the better part of a day. Drove it into the TP, made a few trips along the coastline, handing out supplies and rides to those in need... Next day, the car had been stolen when I was asleep beside it.

At the time, I was livid. Now? Now I'm just happy to still be alive.

When the Trade Post was starting to get crowded - Not to mention the area around it with Zeds, I decided to skip out - Took a ride with some 'Chedaki'... Or at least, that's what they call themselves. From what I heard, the Chedaki were cruel, horrible guerrilla fighters, with little to no regard for the people. This group however, this Chernarrusian Socialistic Republic, it exists for the people... Or at least, thats the impression they're giving me.

Wanting to help them stabilize the region, maybe get a chance at going home, I joined up with them, more or less. They seemed to accept me pretty quickly, despite my being a foreigner. Might have something to do with my lie of enjoying communism, but honestly, capitalism doesn't work in times like this anyway. Not like it was a complete lie... I'll be noting down my impressions of other groups as I go along, in seperate entries - Combine them with hear-say, in case this is found on my corpse. Will definitely help me while I'm alive, and it might help someone else who stumbles on this...

So far, I've only had major interactions with a group I only know as 'The Injected', the 'SDS', whatever that stands for, the '7th', which might be a good alternative for me to assist, should the Chedaki decide I'm too foreign, and most recently, the 'Chernarrusian Liberation Front', the 'CLF'. Sadistic bastards.

With the Injected, it all started in a hillside town, not sure what the name was... Might help if I learn to read the signs. Seems they claimed that area, while we - Myself, and the CSR - were trying to set up a supply cache in the region... We had also taken liberties with two abandoned vehicles before than - Which I now know belonged to them... Had some minor interactions with them personally when I returned the second car, which I had personally stolen and hidden - And repaired. Piece of junk, that it was. Cost me all night to clean that damned engine up. Any case, patched it up, wrote a note, and put it back where I found it. Some time later, my little 'mail adress' of the lighthouse at Cap Golava... Golova? Cap something, anyway, received a reply. Not too positive, though I don't think they're explicitly hostile... But that'll follow in the descriptions.

Following that, I had my first encounter with the SDS, and that got messy. They were trying to set up a roadblock, and we rammed right into it with our bus... Must have dealt good damage to their vehicles, but I have no idea how I survived. Woke up a couple of dozen yards away from the collision area, on the grass with some dried up blood over me. No breaks, no permanent injuries from what I could tell - Though I had lost most of my gear, one way or another. Broken rifle - A winchester, one of my best-scoring rifles to date - bag torn to shreds... But, at least I was alive.

After that, I got a pick-up from the Chedaki, and was introduced to their... Our, I suppose, camp. Camp Galkin. Nice little place, good for resting.

And then there's the CLF.

First encounter was nasty... Me and one of the Chedaki were in Elektro - One of the major towns on the southern coast - trying to establish a good location for aid, in the school... I was waiting in the car we had taken from one of the Zed-infested towns in the region, when two people come dashing up. Ask me if I'm friendly. I like to think that I am, which is what I replied... Next thing I know, the military-looking one of the two, with a green odd logo on his sleeve, tells me to get out of the car in five seconds, or be shot. I comply, begrudgingly - I was in no position to fight back, in any case... So I get out, hoping the Zed would get them before me... When the Chedaki ally of mine starts to come to my rescue. He gunned down one of the two, and we're sure he hit the other one a few times, but he still got away with our car. And our supplies.

Second encounter? Even worse. Far worse.

I just finished my dinner up at Cap Golova, then hopped on my bycicle to get moving - Find some good supplies to pass around - when I see two military vehicles, with a group of people surrounding it. Next thing I know, they're warning me to stop, or they'll shoot. Practically force me off my bike, have my drop all my means of self-defence, and shoot my goddamn legs... In the end, I managed to crouch down before they actually broke anything - Put up an act that seemed to convince them, but then the sons-of-bitches actually decide to wreck my bycicle... All because I was 'Tresspassing on their country' and had 'affiliations with the CSR'. They said they hated the Chedaki, but... The way they were talking about wanting my head on a pike, pissing on the morphine far away, that was supposed to save my life after I'd crawl to it - With broken. Goddamn broken, legs, if they had their way... Aren't they resorting to Chedaki-like tactics? Cruelty, banditry, over-zealous bigotry and xenophobia?

And their trespassing punishment? I mean fucking seriously. I am working for the purpose of leaving this goddamn place, and they actively impede my work to that end, because I'm 'in their land'? Talk about blocking your own door.

Anycase, I've got my legs bandaged up now, and an improvised IV with blood in me... Might have to try and make it to a medical camp to check for infections though... But until then, I'm sticking in CSR territory, or back at 'my' beloved lighthouse. As far away from the region as possible - How can anyone complain about self-imposed exile, after all. No one can. No one should.

Unless you're a group of psychopathic, xenophobic gorkians with not a shred of common sense or decency.

Another curious note, aside from them shooting themselves in the foot metaphorically - One of them said he'd seen me with Vasily - Big shot of the 'Good' Chedaki group I'm working with... How? I'd never even been close to them before. Lies to 'justify' my punishment, I suppose.

Any case, enough hostility... Just, if anyone finds this - Ware the 'CLF', the flag of green and green, with crossing swords. I don't know (yet) what they really want, if anything, but so far, they seem little more than heavily armed bandits.

The 'SDS' is a similar threat, though from what I've heard, they make no pretense for their violence - They just do it out of spite, and aren't afraid to admit it. Or so I hear.

[A page at the end of the notebook, going back as it fills up titled; Groups of the Origin Region]

Groups of the Origin Region

Chernarussian Socialist Republic

Claims to be 'Chedaki' - Violent extremists, but consists mostly of natives, that seem more concerned about the people, than killing everything that doesn't agree with them. Currently seem to split their activities between the region they've ambitiously chosen to 'protect', the Elektro area, and their Camp Galkin.

Overall experience: Friendly, generaly supportive, if a little (understandably) focused on military hardware.

The 7th

Unsure of their actual role and motivation, seems to be a western force, allied with the CSR. Seems well-organized, and more focused on stopping banditry then helping survivors.

Overall experience: Friendly - Very military.

The Injected

Drug-traders, from what I heard. 'Claimed' a ridiculously large region as their 'Blue zone', in which they apparently do not permit anyone. Overall, they are arguably insane, but adhere to a code of lawful business.

Overall experience: Neutral, very defensive. Annoying, too, as they claimed a main road as a 'no trespassing' zone. Honerable in their own way - Worthy of respect.


Not sure what it stands for - A group of, from what I heard, only dark-skinned individuals. From what I hear, they're bandits of the worst stripe - Well equipped, well organized, and very experienced in making people shit themselves in fear. Or so I hear.

Overall experience: Get the fuck out of their way. Hostile, very much so.


Claiming to work for the country, but their actions seem to indicate they only work for themselves. Selfish, unreasonable, violent bunch, well equipped and organized. If they're open for it, I'd like to hear their motivations, but since I have no idea how to contact them, and doubt they'd be willing to talk. Logic might make them realize the errors of their ways, after all. So far, seem little more than organized, self-righteous bandits.

Overall experience: Self-righteous, sadistic bandits. Unless guaranteed safe, neutralize.

The Outpost Rangers

Main responsible party for the old trade posts' supplies... Don't know much about them, but from what I do know...

Overall experience: The best.

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