This is a tribute of the Greatest Story in the World. AKA “The Adventures of The Bastard, The Git & The Damsel.” I felt a shiver run through my body as I gathered my barings. It didnt take me long to remember where I was - I'd spent the previous night running through the pitch black toward the water. I was in Cherno, just by the harbour. I slowly waded my way through the depths, accutely aware that I couldn't just stay there, as much as I wanted to, the fear of hypothermia drove my need to move. Besides, I knew my friends were on the way - they had promised. I took solace in the fact that I wouldn't be alone for long and made my way along the seemingly quiet footpath toward a pair of water towers and a big, white house. My paranoia ate away at me and panic started her treacherous ascent up my spine into my throat, bubbling out in incoherent speech as I babbled my way up the ladder of the first tower. I knew one of my friends was making his way from Kamenka - a long-ass journey which made my nerves twitch. I hoped the other would get his booty over to my location quicker. I plonked myself down atop the tower, catching my breath and surveyed the surroundings from my high-up position. I spent a little while there, eyes sharp for any movement when I spotted someone in the distance, headed in my direction. I was slightly apprehensive - what if it wasn't one of our group? Still, the thought of finally seeing another survivor (I hoped) made me swallow my fear and head back down the ladder and toward the figure who was quickly approaching. Excitment burst it's way through my chest when I realised it was one of my friends. I could've hugged him but restrained myself. Instead I squealed at him like a school girl. The Bastard had a gun and food and drinks! I helped myself to a tin of his beans and cola whilst he explained; "Found you through my binoculars. Figured you'd be sat crapping yourself high up somewhere. Made my way down from Vysota." The beans tasted of victory and the cola was a frothy joy as we caught up with each other. Just as we were going to head toward the white house to wait for our friend to finish his journey to Cherno, we spotted movement just behind it. I hid behind The Bastard and we made our way to him. “We’re friendly!” We called out. Thankfully, so was he. We made plans to go toward the Church. It was a distance away but it seemed doable – as long as we kept low and made our way there quietly – the zombies between our location and the building stuck out like sore thumbs. As we grabbed our balls out of our purses to make our way there, it started lashing down with rain. Great. We made our way down the embankment when The Bastard started showing signs of hypothermia. I would never have admitted it to his face, but I was worried. That’s when our radios crackled to life – it was our friend! Yes, he was close. Yes, he had a heatpack. Sadly, he was bringing friends with him. And not the good kind. The Bastard and I looked at each other and with a nod, sprinted to the Church with our recently acquired comrade. We made it in, slightly breathless and were confronted with 2 others who had already set up camp in there. Must be our lucky day – they were friendlies, too. We made our way to the back of the Church and just in time – we spotted our friend run past the door. For a brief moment I wonder why the hell he hadn’t just come in, until the trail of 10 or so Zeds following in his wake answered my unspoken question. The Git finally made it into the damn church as 5 of us unloaded into the Zeds who had followed him. The doors were closed and there was a collective sigh of relief in the building. My fingers, slick with persperation, gripped the gun in a haphazard manner. I turn my body to look at The Bastard and grinned at him, then I twist it back to The Git and my grin grew wider. For the first time ever, I actually felt confident. We'd made it! Found each other after having lost one another. It didn't matter that one of them still had an irritating cough and we were exhausted from the rush of adrenaline that hadn't left any of us for a long time - we were safe(ish) and alive. I felt myself relax ever-so-slightly, feeling the giddy burst of joy flickering through my nervous system. That's when the shot rang out. I wasn't sure what had happened, even when the spray of blood hit my face and I stared into the eyes of my friend, horror dawning on his face before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. My brain was still playing catch-up whilst my mouth was asking "What the hell just happened!?" I didn't register the other survivors leaving the Church, I just stared down at my friend with an open mouth. "You shot me! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY JUST SHOT ME!" His eyes rolled back as he slipped into unconciousness, The Bastard was already on him with a bandage. Oh fuck. "Oh god please don't die, I didn't mean to!" I gripped The Git and thought twice about shaking his nearly lifeless body. "I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T ACTUALLY SHOOT YOU ON PURPOSE! This is exactly why I can't have nice things." The last comment was directed toward The Bastard who had his usual string of sarcastic BS to admonish me with. As The Git came to, it was decided we would head to the local Supermarket. I wanted to help carry him there but he was adament. Stubborn Git. From there, we were to head to the nearby hospital. As we bunkered down inbetween the aisles, I let a smile creep across my face again. Sure, The Git was bleeding out and The Bastard was even grumpier due to a fever but I know, despite being a typical Damsel, they have my back. Just a pity they don’t trust me with theirs – especially when I have a rifle in my hand.
