So late as always I finally joined the DayZ party, my first life did not go well. Thinking wrongly,the wise thing to do would be to head straight out to the nearest military complex to arm myself to the teeth. It took a long time to figure out just where I was within the 225 sq/km (that’s a whopping 87 sq miles) map.
Having attempted and failed to scavenge from many small towns, each time being forced to flee when a small army of Zed’s caught my scent, running like Usain Bolt in an attempt to prevent my terrified arse from being chewed off. Finally I managed to escape the attentions of the brain hungry mobs long enough to loot some food and a new rucksack from an abandoned mini mart. Equipped with plenty of food and drink (but still no weapon) I started to feel a little over confident. I found a map, watch and a crowbar so finally I could fight back, things were really looking up. Studying my newly acquired map I found that I was but a few clicks south of an abandoned military airbase “a chance to add some real hardware to my pack” I thought. Little did I know I was barking up the wrong tree.
Abandoned and ransacked but there were still goodies for the taking
I arrived on the outskirts of the base, I probably should have realised straight away that this was going to go sour. The small barracks on the edge of the airfield was infested with Deadites and littered with abandoned backpacks. I managed to hide but one of the undead was too smart by half, following me into the shower cubicle I was laying low in. Cornered, scared and already low on blood he knocked me to the ground. I managed to scramble to my feet long enough to smash his skull with my trusty crowbar. Things were bad, my vision was greyed, head was pounding and heart racing I bandaged myself up and popped some painkillers. Perhaps it was my injuries, maybe I was delirious from the pills but I made a bad choice and decided to move toward the hangars. The runway was a mess there were Zed’s everywhere. Making my way across was perilous I spotted a watch tower “If I can climb that I might just have a better chance of fending them off”. Bad choice number two. As soon as I began my climb a nearby pack began to lurch, stagger and finally sprint towards my location. Upon reaching the top even in my weakened state I managed to throw a couple from the top and send them tumbling bones smashing onto the tarmac below but there were just too many. Eventually a former soldier managed to reach the top of the ladder, alone and trapped I fought valiantly for survival but it wasn’t enough, knocked to the ground my last sight before I slipped away was of a drooling mouth and sharp teeth, an image that will live with me for a long time….. they ate me alive.
It took a little while for me to shake the fear of a repeat incident but eventually I felt I had regained enough courage to try my luck once more in Chenarus. This time things didn’t start out quite so slow. Waking up not on a coast but a dock in the dead of night I had no idea where I was or of the fortune which was about to befall me. It became pretty obvious that there was only one way off this dock without taking a dunk in the freezing waters of Chernogorsk harbour, Further into the city.
Chernogorsk is the largest settlement in the region which means it’s also the most dangerous. Having heard about the impossibility of raiding Cherno alone and with no equipment I knew I had to get out fast crawling my way past zombie after zombie I made it to a small shack on the other side of the port bridge. Inside was a full Jerry can of petrol, I had no use for this right now but I took it anyway. This shack would be my best chance for survival through the cold night, I waited.
Through the night I saw few signs of activity save for distant torch-light and on one occasion a flare lighting up the buildings opposite revealing the silhouettes of the shambling former citizens, I don’t know who tossed it but I hope they got out alive. Finally the light began to return. An unfamiliar sound began to draw closer, perhaps an engine? something airborne, a chopper!? I knew the dangers of approaching other players but faced with the choice of another day and night trying to sneak passed roves of undead and possible rescue I had to put my trust in Humanity. Crawling slowly from my temporary lodgings I could immediately see the chopper hovering in the distance, no sign of any Zed’s.
“Hey!” ……. no response, the copper rotates surveying its surroundings in the cold light of dawn. “Flyboy!” he spins back, he heard me. I stand up revealing myself to my potential rescuers, they drop altitude. Slowly approaching the whirly bird as it descends to the grass in front of me it becomes clear there are three heavily armed men inside, the passenger jumps out weapon ready. “What choo want boy?” he barks, never taking his aim off me. Unarmed and afraid I do not wish to cause any offence.
“Friendly. I have nothing but this can of fuel. It’s your’s if you let me live.” he looks me over, his friends surveying the landscape, wary that this could be a trap. I place the Jerry can on the floor, “Fill it up” orders the man whose ID holds the name Merc. Having done as requested I’m bundled into the chopper, profusely thanking my rescuers I ask where we are headed it seems they are taking me out of the city and intend to properly equip me. Still concerned of what ill fate may await me as we swoop across the city and out into the countryside beyond. They drop me off near a small garage, where they had previously stashed a motorcycle, and gifting me some supplies, food, water and an AK-47, re-fueling the bike then returning to their chopper Merc (the only one of the three who had spoken to me) delivers a chilling parting line.
“We don’t do friendly. You were the first. Next time we might Hunt you a little” he flashes a wide smile but I know he was serious. Riding toward the rapidly rising sun AK slung on my back and my pack full of food I feel like the luckiest survivor in the wastes maybe there is hope left for mankind yet …… maybe. <Want to know what happened next? click here to read on.>
Hope you liked my own personal tale of woe. I enjoyed living it and writing it. Do you have you own tale of survival in the Chenarus wastes? Let us know in the comments below.