“ .. and as for what will become of you, that mystery remains unsolved “
What would come of grasping everything you desired by simply stepping outside the borders of normality? Riches… Drugs… Women... Safety? Seemingly all things are connected by the simple desire that another has what one desires. What better way to acquire it than by.. taking it? How long could one survive with such a mindset? Would limits exist for how high one could climb?
In the beginning, they were helpful. The UN.. helping give out food and water and providing protection from the dead for those who couldn’t protect themselves… But we watched as their mannerisms changed. Chernarussian survivors grew restless, there wasn’t enough food for everyone to go around. The only ones able to properly protect themselves refused to send units to scavenge more food or have someone drop off supplies. Word got out quick that some of the last, readily available supplies was being stored in Kabanino. People of all origins made way - Americans, the French, the British.. Yet we, residents of the land, were turned away first.. We grew tired.. we grew hungry.. we needed help, rather we get it from them or do what was necessary to help ourselves..
As the days added up, as did the casualties.. Survivors attempted scavenging food from nearby cities only to fall victim to the hoards of dead roaming around. UN members were backing themselves into their own walls, threatening anyone who was to come near. We had had enough. In the nighttime, we snuck into the barn where their members were sleeping. Quietly, we picked up as many rifles and pistols we could find, and snuck back outside. At daybreak, we met them at their wall, armed to teeth. By sundown, we had enough supplies to survive another week.
By the end of the week, everything had disappeared. The other survivors, gone.. The UN, gone… and almost any hope of survival, well.. gone. There was no choice but to move to a new city and take survival into our own hands. Yet one thing stuck with us; the memory of the UN turning their back on us.
After a few weeks of the same routine, we grew tired of struggling. Myself, Teodore, and James had banded together once everyone split at Kabanino, but tensions grew even between us. Seemingly everyone we came across had what we wanted.. what we needed.. Our clothes had become tattered, our shoes were worn out, and our supplies were severely low. We made the decision anyone would have made in times of desperation - steal from someone else.
One by one, we’d pick off stragglers. We’d wake up at the apartment and go our separate way sometimes, and return with as much supplies as possible. Before long, our apartment began looking like a trap house with all the rifles we had propped up against the wall. Although we had the rifles, we lacked the ammunition. I offered to spend the day at the NorthWestern Airfield in search of ammunition rather than picking off another destined for death survivor.
Around noon, I sat down to have a can of bacon atop the ATC tower. Before I could take my first bite, I heard yelling from below, telling me to keep my hands high or I’d lose them. I came down the stairs with my backpack and asked what the issue was, but then I noticed the ringleader - an individual I had previously picked clean of anything valuable. His name was Alfie Indleson, and he cut me one clear deal: Kill James and Teodore, or kill myself, otherwise they would.
He gave me twenty-four hours, and to be back in the same location should the job be completed.
Back at the apartment, I sat on the sofa and loaded every magazine I could. I tried and tried to figure out a way out of this. It was my life.. I mean.. Shit..
Before long, James and Teodore walked through the door with smiles across their face. They found a group of guys and girls getting water nearby and took all their things, threatening to end their lives should they be seen near the city again. I chuckled, trying hard not to show the fear I was feeling. I struck up a conversation about my findings for the day and suggested sneaking into a new base I claimed to find in the middle of the night. We prepped with kalashnikovs and pistols silenced with duct taped water bottles, a few shots of vodka, and a large dinner of beans and steak.
By sundown, we were preparing to head West. It had started raining pretty heavily, but to James and Teodore, it was an ideal time to strike. My time was running out if I was going to make a move, so I agreed and we headed out. Outside of Lopatino, we stopped amongst the trees to search for any lights in town. Teodore and James began moving forward before I could speak up about my situation, so I pulled my pistol out and told them to stop and don’t reach for anything. They turned around in shock.
“ Are you serious, Oto? “
“ Yeah dude what the hell, we’ve been through hell and back! “
I stared for a moment, distraught with the idea I’d really do this.
“ I don’t want. Just want life. Please forgive. “
I fired a round in Teodore’s leg, then into James’ leg. The make-shift silencer wasn’t enough to keep the dead from hearing the shots. They swarmed in, going straight for Teodore and James. I ran back to the apartment as gunshots rang out from behind me. I locked the door and hid the supplies under the wooden panels. I dozed off a few times, but couldn’t find any solid sleep. By sunrise, I was afraid to know what had happened to them.
I made my way back towards the location that I shot them. Their bodies lie mauled amongst the grass. I stood over them as a single tear rolled down my cheek. I reached down, removing the chain from Teodore’s neck and clipping it around mine. For a brief moment, I was upset. But I had no real… no deep… connection with them. I was… OK. I chuckled as I searched for the direction of the airfield and headed there.
“ Live. I live by doing what I must. Forgive me. “
E N J O Y S
Drinking / Smoking / Stealing / Women / Hoarding Supplies /
D I S L I K E S
Americans / UN / The Rich and Flaunty / Selfish People Who Won't Share / Vegetables /
F E A T U R E S
Silver Chain Around Neck /