kken

Well it comes to this... a freaking infection. I guess I've been around the block a while... I was here when the outbreak first happened. Who woulda thought the Mayans were right and 2012 really was the end of the world? What a bitch I thought at the time... I lost my wife to cancer 3 years ago and now I see her as the lucky one. I had to watch her go through some of the most terrible things medical science can do to the human body and it wasn't enough to save her. But that didn't even come close to when the outbreak started. I saw my neighbor Oleg Kavorsky eat his own son... which gave me just enough time to get the hell out of Dodge. I still sometimes cry myself to sleep when that horrible memory surfaces. There's not enough whiskey left in this world to drown that out. But you adapt, you survive. I saw humanity at its absolute worst... uninfected humans killing other survivors. And for what? An empty soda can? You'd think we'd band together and try and ride this out but no. This... this is bigger than something like the Nazis or the Japanese or even an alien invasion. This overrides any possible decency we could have for each other. But I couldn't become an animal like everyone else... I just couldn't. Maybe it's the memory of Miska Kavorsky looking at me while his father feasted on his entrails, those 9 year-old doe eyes begging me to do something. Don't get me wrong, I've killed other humans... but only when I HAD TO. When I was pushed to it. And I still throw up every time afterwards. So I stay away from human contact, mostly stick to myself and the wilderness. You never think that all the stuff you learned and loved in the Young Pioneers - things like map reading, starting a fire, telling time and direction without a watch or compass - you'd never think those skills would serve you well down the road. There's been a couple bright spots however... you take the little victories in life, right? I've managed to reach some true friends via VHF radios. We keep each others' spirits up and going. But still, it's a lonely existence. And every now and then, I'll have to make my way into town to get some supplies, hoping I don't run into any bandit groups that seem to be forming up all along the countryside. Unfortunately, my last trip into town, I got lazy. I went in with my hatchet, to stay silent more from humans than Zeds. Normally, I sneak in, do my business, and get the hell out. Maybe I was thinking about Miska, maybe I was thinking about my wife, I dunno... but I felt rage, pure unadulterated rage and felt the need to kill some Zeds. Just to get it out. So I went after them, just started losing it and hacking at any walker I came across. When I was done and was making my way back to my little home in the woods, I noticed a scratch on my left arm... or was it a bite mark? Soon after, I started coughing... and the coughing never went away. Maybe it's just a cold, I'd tell myself. The next few days I rested, drank and ate to keep my health up. I even started a fire, something I'm not apt to do as it attracts bandits. None of that helped. And then I realized... Infection. So here I am, just laying on my back looking at the stars on a hill top west of Sosnovka... and wondering when the infection will take me. I know I need antibiotics but I might as well ask for the Kremlin jewels while I'm at. So I can only hope that when the infection takes me, and I'll hopefully rejoin my wife in the afterlife, that I'll be whole and human, and not a Zed... not a monster.