Dear survivor, If you're reading this, you've found my corpse, or what's left of it after those things have gorged on the remnants of my flesh, slim pickings for them I'm afraid. I'm writing this as I bleed out, its interesting how the blood blotches on the note paper, rushing suddenly at first, then ever so slowly creeping at the edges, like clinging to life itself. Sorry, I haven't much time. Beware the darkness, beware balota airfield, beware the greed of man. I've always had the worst luck, even before all this madness, give me a dice and i'd roll a 1 first go. I go to buy a toaster or an aircon, I buy the faulty one and spend the next 2 days trying to get a refund/change it. Sit me down with a groups of girls and its only the ladyboy who'll be coming on to me. Maybe they can smell the weak, easy pickings. It is a bigger game now though, higher stakes. I was desperate, I needed food and meds, I had no weapon, I'd already sneaked past god knows how many of those monsters into barns and industrial factories and come out with a heatpack, flares, a hatchet, 4 cokes oh, yeah, and some wood. Where ever i went it seems someone had beaten me to it, empty cans. I figured the medical camp south of balota might be kinder to me. Under the cover of night I crawled my way in, taking great care to wait and dodge past the roamers outside. I cut the locks and swung the three great gates open without the Z guards even flinching. from a sangar, i throw flares all over to distract the Zs. It works, i manage to waste about 20 of those things with an AKM and 2 mags, inside the wire and outside. The camp goes quiet, i descend and check the med tents. nothing, absolutely nothing. All that risk, all that noise, there's nothing here! I check the other sangars, same deal chem lights, heatpacks, a glock and mag, but no food, no meds. But it seems my noise and flares have attracted Zs more stream into the compound. I kill many, i dont know how many - strangely, i remember feeling very calm, single shots felling the monsters mechanically. One however makes it up into the sangar and knocks me out. I awake to a dark and blurry world, the sound of my own heart beat thudding in my ears. I manage to pop more flares to distract the several Zs outside the wire and make my escape. I'm desperate now, its pitch black, no food, no meds, low ammo that i cant afford to use, for the noise is sure to attract more of the monsters. Balota airstrip is my last hope, and slim at that for what I really need. Somehow i manage to blearily stagger into the first hangar, i can hear the Zs better than i can see them. Nothing but empty cans of food and an mp5mag, useless! I sneak up to the control tower, empty cans, coke, shit that's no good, come on just one bit of food, a half eaten sandwich or some pain killers, anything to let me know that lady luck isnt the bitch i always pegged her as. I hit the top floor, at the top of the stairwell, a box of pain killers! I hear glass shatter and a sub-sonic crack. Someone thinks they've got lucky, idiots................... And here we are, bleeding out in a stairwell in the dark..........I'd always thought I would have my daughter by my bedside at the end, a nice smile to see me on my way. But at least the night is cool........and quiet. The above account is a dramatised (?) version of real events that happened to me on sept 11/12 2012. Hope you enjoyed/learnt. And remember, though it may be easier to destroy than to build, to take than to aid, that is precisely why we should be 'building' in this game - because it is hard. that is the real challenge, to survive, to help, to propser, no matter the odds. NO EXCEPTIONS. GC
