Friday, June 29, 2012

Day Z: Fear the Living, Not the Dead

I wake up from my slumber. Kev still sleeps. I see if I can get the supplies he needs. I try to get into the Hospital below, but my Makarov shots do not break the windows. I end up killing a zombie or two that I attracted thanks to the noise. I decide that I will check the apartment across the street for anything useful for my survival.

I scour each room, finding a few useful items hear and there. Some shotgun shells, some soda for my thirst. I stand on the roof looting. I turn around to see another survivor.....he fires a shot off with his revolver and hits me. I fire back with my shotgun. I do not know if I hit him or not. I am suddenly on the ground.....the life leaving my body....killed by a bandit. I hope that he chokes on my beans. Blackness.

In the meantime, Kev crawls down from the top of the hospital. He finds a treasure trove of supplies in the hospital and repairs his broken legs. He seareched the area and finds a Winchester. A great weapon for holding off the zombie hordes. As he searches for supplies, he is also betrayed by his fellow man. Gunned down for no other reason than the gear in his bag.

A new chance at life. I am standing on the coast. Where am I? I am armed with just a bandage, a can of soda, and a flashlight.

I piss off a zombie while trying to search a small house. I make for the coast. The zombie is hot on my heals. I run onto a dock. He trys to follow, but ends up in the water instead. Not very intelligent. I run back onto land and manage to lose him. A close call. I come to a small village full of zombies. I crawl from house to house, avoiding the Zed Heads and trying to get something of use. Not much to be had.

After a while, I come to a larger town. Scrounging around, I find a revolver and six rounds. As I creep through, I catch the attention of a walker. It attacks, but I dispatch it with a single shot. The sounds draws more. I kill three more but here more growls coming near. I sprint from the area, four zombies hot on my heels. I see a military camp in the distance......there is no way in. I must run on. I see some hangars in the distance. This could be my salvation. I run into a hangar and lose two of the Zeds, but two continue to pursue. I have two bullets remaining. I dispatch both of them, but the shots draw the interest of the two I previously got away from. I run into a building and hide in a corner.

They are none to perceptive. I see a survivor laying on the floor of this hangar. I creep closer. He has an axe. A weapon. Thank god. I crawl from the hangar and continue to make my way West along the tracks.

I come to a city. This will be a place to gather supplies. I rummage around the city alone besides a few shamblers. I find a bounty of gear. A makarov pistol and about 10 magazines. A new backpack to hold more gear. Food. Drink. Matches. A compass and map. I creep out and head towards a hangar on the ocean. Nothing to be found. As I exit, I see a survivor running in the distance. I hit the ground and watch. He did not seem to see me and runs off. Survivors cannot be trusted.

I make my way along the coast to the west. I see two more survivors running together. I hit the ground and watch as they run past with a zombie on their tails. It is none of my concern. Survivors are more of a certain death than zombies themselves. I hanker down on the coast, hidden in a bush. This is where I will rest for the night.

In the meantime, Kev made his way to a town. He finds supplies and a weapon. Unfotunately, he uses all of the ammo in it to hold off zombies. As he searches for other supplies, he spots a survivor in army gear with a rifle. Kev tries to hide, but is spotted....and murdered. Survivors cannot be trusted ever. They must be avoided or eliminated.

Tommorow, I will try to meet up with Kev. We will continue our journey, and hopefully be joined by Fett who has been in a long slumber. Once we have met up and supplied ourselves, we will probably head into the wilderness. Staying away from civilization may be the key to lasting survival.

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