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Combine

First Responder - last Survivor

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Entry #1

Spoiler

 

Dear journal,    how cheesy

I wanted to write for so long, and now I've become restless and think it is finally the time.

 

 

"We are in control of the situation."

 

At least, that is, in retrospect, the fleeting radio transmission stuck in my memory. It was just one of many, but that one, I shall not forget. I shall not forget those words because I was the one who said them, as Chernogorsk started to burn. Assuming you are someone else reading this:

 

Dear reader, whoever you may be, below on this page you will (or should, if it was not removed) see a photograph attached, taken by a someone in the early days. Maybe it was a journalist, maybe someone else. I found it on someone and that someone doesn't need it anymore. Maybe it is known because it made it into the news or internet in the early days - I could never check. Did not have the time. But for now, I would like to refer to this picture, and direct your attention to it. I might even be on it, somewhere.

 

UquZpFb.jpg

 

Chances are you have your own memories and experiences as things started to unfold, from the first reports, to the spreading chaos, to a mini-WW3 and the global slaughterhouse as the infection spread - and continues to spread, at this time and to my knowledge.

 

Maybe you are Chernarussian or were here when it spread, maybe you are a foreigner and came here after it started. Either way, I would like you to take a look at the photo again and study it briefly. It depicts the chaos of the early days and surely, many scenes like the one shown unfolded all over the globe once the infection spread, whatever you want to call it. Super rabies, wendigo, zombie virus and so on. Fear was all around and a lot seemed uncertain. And yet I wish I could be back in the scene above - with a little change: Being able to turn this thing around, anything with a more positive outlook happening but this global slaughterhouse. I miss my colleagues and I miss the old times when everything was relatively normal. I'd rather be in the first days again (ideally with a more and swift positive result to the crisis) because even though it was anything but normal, there were people around. So many people. The city I sometimes walk through now was not a ghost town, it was very much alive as the chaos spread. We were there in force. It seemed like this could be stopped. We were in control. For a time.

 

And then it all went downhill. I think it was already too late when the reports intensified and became more clear. I wasn't in the "normal police" when it began, nor anywhere near the precinct first responding. I can only imagine the surprise or horror from those arriving first, and the towns affected first. No one expects 'zombies' to lunge at you and scratch, bite, punch. And infect. It was just movies, games, fiction! But soon enough, you'd get the picture when more news and reports come in and you figure out something is very wrong. It didn't take ages and rocket scientists to figure out a virus was eating its way through the province and soon beyond, and the mass panic eventually mobilized us and the CDF. When bigger towns go relatively dark or are abandoned, seemingly one by one, you get a good sense of dread - especially if the threat comes closer to you.

 

I like to think I was lucky. I wasn't thrown at the immediate frontlines. Maybe that is why I can now write these words in the first place, more than half a year later. I did not pick up and 'embed' the picture above randomly. I was there, after all, and might even be somewhere on that picture. It's a visualized memory. And I can tell you that "infected" were not the primary concern for a while. It was ordinary people. Or, rather, uninfected humans. Whether people became desperate or whether it was opportunistic behavior of questionable people, I can't really tell in retrospect. I think this "thing" made everyone a little on edge and crazy. As odd as it sounds, but fighting people (initially) made a lot seemingly "normal" - after all, it's part of the duties to handle civil unrest, riots and all of that.

 

How did it unfold in Chernogorsk?

Things changed eventually, however, with more people getting evacuated and fleeing and with the infection spreading or "catching up". Initially, we were in control and rerouted people along the coast or evacuated them via port or airfield nearby. There was a sense of dread all around, but things seemed normal; the infection was not here and you tend to think optimistic. Then people slowly became unhappy, opportunistic, nuts. More "normal people" left, more units were redirected, the people in the city became less and less until it was mostly police, soldiers, emergency personnel, a few stragglers or hold-outs and rioters. And eventually amidst the chaos I remember infected appearing. That was when many already left and some supposedly deserted. As a notable number of infected came closer to the city, we pulled many units westwards, and some civilians were apparently evacuated in a hurry from the port. I, along with a squad, was supposed to hold one of the main roads. There were troublemakers throwing stones, maybe just teens or young adults blowing off steam in retrospect. It was more or less manageable. Then, the crazies came and that was less than manageable.

 

A riot shield can block certain thrown objects well. It can block makeshift weaponry such as wooden clubs. It becomes difficult to block frantic people on super rabies jumping against you, into your shield. With no pause. Part of unit tactics and riot control is psychological warfare. Marching in unison, standing in formation, all looking relatively the same, appearing a bit dehumanized through all the gear or masks, banging your batons against your shields. Try to make the opponent forget about rioting or unrest. Make them develop fear. Infected, however, do no have any notable fears. Soon after infected showing up and most realizing that "soft tactics" would not work, the guns did the talking. But it was futile. We were too few, some ran off and they kept coming. At a certain moment during combat, it seemed as if everything just went to shit instantly, unit cohesion, command structure, a real chance of staying in control gone. I ditched the heavier shield after shooting two down with my sidearm and ran, as jets flew over the city and explosions somewhere close covered a hasty retreat. I must've picked a bad route or way, but I didn't run into any "friendlies" when I got to the outskirts. I simply ran west like many others. People were around me initially, but I did not mind them, I simply ran and only later I noticed I was alone when I stopped to take a break in some forest patch near the airfield.

 

It would not be the last time I ran for my life.

 

 

 

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Nice snow in July for your pic.

Memes aside good entry bro.

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14 minutes ago, Major said:

Nice snow in July for your pic.

Memes aside good entry bro.

I didn't know Chernarus was where I grew up! It would snow on the 4th of July sometimes.

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7 hours ago, Major said:

Nice snow in July for your pic.

Memes aside good entry bro.

Who said it was snow? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

(grim joke: the ashes of all the burned corpses coming down)  

 

Thanks so far, will post more occasionally, more or less in chronological order unless there are "flashbacks".

 

I never was the big writer, but I guess the post-apocalyptic scenario makes it fun. I could almost imagine myself writing in a real one with the addition of saying "I used to write fictional diary entries on DayZRP and now look at me doing this shit for real", should this ever happen. 

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I enjoyed this!

Seems like it actually came from the mind of a real person (as in makes the character seem more real). And yeah, there was loads of ash and dust after the Twin Towers collapsed, so the flakes could def be ash and not snow. :P

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Spoiler

Diary,

Still feels cheesy writing like this, like a child or young teenager thrillingly noting down the experiences of the day. A new crush perhaps, finding five bucks on the street or being sad. I smile as I write these lines and I would laugh if it wasn't as serious.

 

No, this isn't the diary of a child, it is more akin to written down memoirs of world war survivors or spectators. It is a war diary or war journal. Eventually this mess will either be fixed or be the final straw for modern society. Either way, writing down and recording is more vital than ever, so I do not just write this down for myself or possible children I might have, but you, dear reader, whoever you might be. Hopefully not an enemy. In case you ever find this on my dead body, fuck you, I guess.

 

But this is unlikely as I rarely keep this on me. In fact upon checking if it was still where I safely hid it, a major urban center in South Zagoria, I was surprised to see the hideout untouched. While it is unlikely to be found by anyone randomly, by chance, there is always the risk of fire still starting and my little hideout could just burn down to a crisp. Note for the afterworld: In this region, theft and robbery is, as of 19th May 2019, sadly still an aspect. Even with my prior job experience I sadly cannot do anything, but ironically accept that this is the new standard in "society", at least in this side of Chernarus.

I have seen so much since this started and since last time I wrote. Some of which I do not want to know and forget. Including the infection and what likely started it. But this will have to be written down later, if there is a later. Here, any day can be your last.

Chances are you find this journal or recording intact, or chances are it is delivered intact to whatever society, group or department may be responsible for "chronicles", so I direct your attention to the entry on the pages prior. Instead of covering the recent past, I will continue where I left off: Leaving a dying and falling Chernogorsk, the capital of this province in Chernarus.

 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Pinch me!

 

I think this is something that popped up strongly in my head as I ran West through Chernogorsk on the day it essentially fell or at least lost all control. Pinch me pinch me pinch me. Why? Because it felt like an absurd nightmare. Was this really happening? Zombie movies come real? Our country (and others) falling apart in no time? How was this possible? I was hoping I was actually dreaming and would wake up any second from a really "immersive nightmare". All I could think of was "Pinch me" for a while as I ran, it was almost like it was a thought becoming physical, hard to the touch, slamming against the insides of my skull, but in hindsight it is more likely it was adrenaline or a growing headache.

 

Even today it is like a vivid memory like a recording, imprinted into the brain and mind. It cannot even be properly described in written form, it had to be felt and seen, witnessed, with all senses and fears. After ditching my heavy shield, I ran through a pandemonium. I think by then most units left. Foreign aid, military, CDF...all hauling ass out of town via the western highway or via the port. Or just into any direction that infected didn't come from. Some leftover remnants driving past me in hurried fashion, not bothering to stop upon calls to wait - luckily I wasn't run over - civilians and I think prior rioters or looters running in all directions. I recall a woman running out of a smoking house calling for help. At least she was talking, it was hard to tell where infected were already, so she wasn't running at me to rip my throat out but to get help. I was the obvious choice, I was in my uniform and had a heavy helmet on. I was resembling the state and order ... only I wasn't anything but in order. I did not care to stop, I did not want to, I did not want to stop to help anyone in that burning or failing mess of a city.

So I just ran past her, extending my arm and hand briefly to avoid her from running into me, to shove her if need be, but the near-collision was avoided. Almost before reaching me I think she just realized I wasn't running to come to her aid, like a knight in dashing (riot) armor, but to run away. She stopped, almost with a brief look of disappointment, before running towards other people to get help. I have no idea what happened to her and anyone who didn't get out of town quickly. If you are reading this as someone else, you may perhaps think I left someone behind to die. But matter of fact is, she was in shape to run, not dying, just confused, and at a certain point you cannot save everyone. For a time after this mess spread and perhaps even today there were and are people who blame the CDF for harsh action shortly after the developing outbreak.

But you have to understand in the end, we are all people with all faults and fears, and any harsh situation can change you. A uniform or a bit of training will not make you impervious to something like this. I still hold the highest respect for the men and women initially thrown into this mess. They tried their best to contain it, and overall, they did managed to secure key safe zones. Again, at some point you cannot save all. You just can't.

Moving on, I somehow (still to my surprise) made it out of the city. In the distance I just saw many run or drive with whatever vehicles left and available to them go west. Under any circumstances, people just wanted to go. Frantic radio chatter indicated the same mindset. Not sure if most of them actually got out or far, but I think this can be assumed. Whether their target destination was safe, I cannot really tell. Since I ran all the time I just had to rest.

 

What happened next?

 

While key moments are very vivid and imprinted on my memory like a recording, what came after isn't as clear. Many smaller and more notable moments mix, but in essence I was roaming for a while, avoiding people. Not until now, mind you, but it was a very hectic and crazy time with lots of people coming and "going". Over the rainbow. I do recall mild and loose initiatives by certain police officers and units trying to establish minor footholds. Back then when everything seemed lost I was amazed by the sense of duty of specific individuals, but it also amazed me to hear that apparently a unit was still operating in Gorka and keeping it safe. Of course they're either long dead by now, moved to actual safe zones or integrated into the general survivor populace by now. By the time of the rumors of this unit and so on, it was when the UN apparently had to pull out of South Zagoria, as it was just too much. Many "remnants" did stay, and I ran into one or two along the way in 2017 in 2018 I think.

I eventually met up with a fellow OREL officer. I think Lubomir was his name. For a time we even had a little "squad" in uniform going, but nothing lasts forever. A brief initiative in resuming operations from the PD in Novaya Petrovka didn't last long due to "bad neighbours" so we moved from there. I think he came from the safe zones to help, but eventually was recalled to them or left towards them. As short anecdote, I ran into him way later, I think the end of 2018. Briefly. A certain officer Nedved from CPD was also around. A German word to describe him would be "Urgestein". He is like a rock withstanding the waves on the shore. Joke should be by now that he gets through any shit.

After this little endeavour and unit fell apart, I roamed again for some time ... until I picked up radio chatter from the western border or safe zones indicating that a certain militia was on the way. We arranged a meeting on the southern coastal road; I was intrigued and felt like for the first time, the cavalry was about to pop up. More regarding this militia in the next entry.

Entry #2

Edited by Combine

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Entry #3 - Svoboda

 

I sit in a car in the middle of the night, in the middle of some forest patch. It is August 18, year 2019.

Heavy rain falls upon the car, drowning any other outside noise, any distant gunshots. The noise, despite being chaotic, almost becomes rhythmic. Hypnotic. I turn push up my night vision and focus on the darkness around me.

 

I begin to ponder life and notice that I do not want to dwell on the past too much. So much happened. Early chaos. An attempt to restore order. Failure. Survival. And then, glimmers of hope. Late 2017, I think, pseudo military units (in fact, legitimized militias) enter the Oblast from the West. Svoboda. I will never forget my anticipation but also my underlying uncertainty, perhaps. Then I stood there on the Southern coastal road, awaiting them, and a car pulls up. Just one. After noticing me, they stop right on the road - not like traffic was an issue - parallel to me and the driver gets out. For a split second I am taken to another world as he, like a Butler of sorts, runs to the other side to open the side door for the man who sits next to him, an officer of sorts, and he salutes as he stands and waits by the door. I don't recall the exact words exchanged but I basically explained who I was, that we had prior brief radio communications and what was going on. It wasn't just the three or four of them in the car, they told me they had one or two trucks transporting troops, but one crashed. The rest of the militia was either still on the way or already past that point, somewhere in the oblast.

 

This is just a snippet of what happened. But remember the name Svoboda. Because a lot happened afterwards that was influenced by this militia. Initially in good standing and backing, that particular unit in SZ eventually turned rogue of sorts and to this day, Augsut 18, 2019, the name rings a bell for most people. I was with them a long time, was grateful for Chernarussians trying to make a difference, but I have also seen how they turned bloodthirsty, like some of the hardcore nationalist groups plaguing - yes, plaguing - the lands now. I leave that for another entry.

 

South Zagoria takes you, if you initially survive, and turns you upside down. I should know.

 

I've been here the whole time.

Edited by Combine

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