"Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, so do our minutes, hasten to their end."
In a normal situation I wouldn't be writing this but with the world ending I find myself with a distinct lack of reading material, that and I am horrible at Russian. The name is John Bishop, I was an officer deployed to Chernarus with a United Nations task force. Our tasks seemed to have evolved as time went on, in the end it never mattered. The world had no chance against whatever this was, some kind of infection that spread like wildfire.
I am unsure of the details after all I am not a doctor, just knew what I overheard on the few occasions I was tasked to ensure the safety of the WHO investigations teams. Far as I could tell they knew as much as me. Nothing.
It didn't concern me at first, after all these were the people who kept us safe from these kinds of things all the time.. but it became clear within just a few days that I was horribly mistaken. In the final days we heard reports from command that the infection had spread inland toward Russia, and there had been unconfirmed reports of cases showing up in North America.
At the time I was stationed in Elektrozavodsk, or Elektro a name for the city commonly heard over American radio frequencies. I was coordinating with the local CDF commander known as Grigoriy a portly man, who always insisted to be called "Just Grigoriy" whenever I brought rank into our conversations. I worked with him almost exclusively when it came to dealing with the CDF. I had been trying to ensure the refugees coming from inland areas of Chernarus were being screened properly, something that at that point really couldn't be accomplished based on the large amount of displaced population, but I was being naive.. I really thought we could stop what was coming. In reality all we could do was hope, though perhaps in the back of my mind I knew it was futile I just refused to listen.
My fears were soon realized once the streets filled with refugees trying to escape the city, like rats trying to escape a sinking ship. Nothing would stop them, threats, diplomacy, it all failed as fear gripped their very souls. As I heard the first gunshot feeling of defeat overtook me, I watched as barricades were pushed aside, and chaos took the streets.
I tried my best to regain some control over my men, to cease the onslaught. During my efforts I had been injured, a stray bullet or a poorly placed shot had found its mark. Whatever the case all I recall was a burning pain coarse through my body for a mere moment, a falling sensation, then darkness.
When I awoke I found myself in a unfamiliar room, the pain had subsided but the confusion in my mind had not.
((More to come - Reminder this is a WIP))