I was born in Oregon, my family moved to Alaska in the early 90's, my pops worked as a heavy equipment operator, my ma kept busy working in a tavern. I received my pilots license at 26 and respectively made a living afterwards as a bush pilot, it's the only reason I’m still alive. I've never been what I would call "good" at anything, even flying, but I manage. When my pops died, I just knew I had to try to make it, for him, for my mom, ya know? I remember, it was raining, we couldn't get off the ground, we we're splitting a bottle, couple of pilots out of Anchorage. One guy, had his son with him, he was, distracted on his phone, I still remember the look on his face. That's when I found out. About the infection, or whatever it is. They said it, it couldn't be stopped. Life didn't change too much at first, there were a couple outbreaks near major airways, especially those running to Asia. We did see more problems over time, but that came with people. Seemed everyone thought moving to Alaska was their best bet on survival after the collapse. We started to notice our resources were becoming more polluted, our animals, disappearing more and more, and the people just kept coming. My dad was surprised with the amount of people that migrated north so quick, he told me that if anything happens to him, to take that plane and fly away, fly west. He died two months after the masses started showing up. I took my plane and flew west. I thought I had more time. Winter is getting here, sooner than it should be. I wasn't able to gather enough food throughout the summer to make it through the cold. Overtime, news spread that the infection started somewhere out west. I didn't see much option, the surviving Americans had pushed North, I loaded the plane and headed for Wales, Alaska. Stories floated around about a well-equipped group near Wales. When I arrived, I saw that rumor true. They told me of a place called Chernarus, a safe haven of sorts, a place to start over. They said go west, dad said go west. I just want to find a new home. Somewhere, we can maybe rebuild, a place I can call home. Well, I made it across the strait, and refueled, I think, three times before I lost it. I've been on foot ever since. Luckily, I wasn't hurt two bad, I limped into Chernarus, I bandaged my wounds somewhere around Svetlovarsk. Looks like the group in Wales was right, Chernarus looks like I place I can rebuild. Maybe one day I can find answers to all this mess. I'm a good person, well, at least I think I am, or try to be, sometimes, it bites me in the ass. I just want answers, we didn't get much info in Alaska, I just want closure.