I'm Finn Abe McPeterson, Born in the great State of Georgia. Grew up on a farm in the South with my three brothers. Learned many things growing up such as, Hunting, Fishing, Farming, and Construction. I always liked helping people so in 2005 I started my own construction business. Work was slow, but steady but after a few jobs; things began to pick up. The business grew and I was able to expand. Being my own boss, I was able to employ my brothers. We were making good money and now was our chance to help those in need. We have traveled around the world helping city buildings and small towns that have suffered from the destruction of War. When I came to Chernarus in 2015, we were able to start repairs. After a few years we made little progress, but with government enforcing more military funding; The City lacked the supplies needed and communication was rough.
Things took a turn for the worst. We lost our contract with the city and lost our jobs. My Company went bankrupt and we were on the street. Traveling down the coast, trying to find work with no luck. When things became ugly during the outbreak my brothers and I were separated. Lost in the chaos I fear the worst for my brothers. As not all of us shared the passion for the outdoors. Weeks past since ive seen a familiar face. I went back to my roots; moved to the forest. I was able to keep warm and live off the land just trying to stay alive. I haven't seen anyone in months out here in the wild alone. Not even sure if theirs anyone left to help anymore..
I feel i may need to venture out of my lil cave in the woods and find other survivors. Their is a difference between surviving and living. Too many thoughts and no one to talk to is starting to wear on my mental state. Their must be others.
I have used what lil supplies i have and its come to the point where i must search for supplies and equipment to help protect me from this world of chaos.
Before all construction in the chernogorsk area was abandoned; I was unable to grab my bugout that was left in the unfinished building in Prigorodki. My lucky Hat and my grandfathers engraved 1911 pistol given to me as a young man were in that bag. Along with a few other small things to remind me of the past. Maybe if im able to work my way back to the jobsite i just may find what im looking for. Finding that bag may be just what I need to lift my spirits. Reminding me of the good times.
Before I left the city to survive in the woods, many people began to loss their mental state. Some starting to panic, while others would steal and take what they could. I know this world is no longer what it used to be.
I must be careful. A small scratch is no the difference between life and death. Those who have survived may not be the same person they once were. Doing what they can to stay alive is understandable. But this world isnt going to get any better unless we do something about it.