Ryushin

VI – Berezino – Endgame As I dashed through the high grass in the fading light, I could feel my heart hammering inside my chest. The knowledge that I could well be in the sights of a sniper perched on a rooftop didn’t do anything to calm me down. Steve kept pace with me, but off to my right somewhat. It was a logical move, making it more certain that at least one of us would make it to the forest. Unless of course there were two snipers behind us. I pushed the thought from my mind and kept running. I heard a shout from behind us and the earth erupted around me, the crack of bullets missing their mark and clods of dirt being thrown up near me. That wasn’t sniper fire. The bark of a machine gun burst followed on the wind as I veered off to the left, hoping to draw the fire away from Steve. I looked over to him, and he was running, faster than ever by the look of it. More snaps and thuds as another volley of fire came down around me. It was a lot closer than the last one, and I got the feeling that the next one wouldn’t miss. My breath came in ragged, rasping cries as I kept going, the treeline loomed, close enough that I was sure I could make it. I jinked back to my right, hoping that it would be enough to get me to the treeline. I never even saw the manhole cover as I stepped onto its slick surface. My footing went from under me and I heard my ankle roll with a crunch. I let up a cry of pain as another volley of bullets cracked into the earth around me. I saw Steve make it into the treeline as I fell. He’d done it. I landed in an unceremonious heap in the grass. My thoughts jumped back to Edgar, what he had told us this morning about his survival only because of a manhole cover. I looked down to my ankle, and it wasn’t good. My foot was pointing out an angle that was all wrong. There was no pain, but that was just a matter of time. I expected gunfire to come and rain all around me at any second, but there was none. I lay there, wondering what I could possibly do next. Night was almost upon us, the treeline was only another thirty metres away from me. I could still make it. Steve would do the right thing and head back to the farmhouse, and patch up Edgar, if he was still alive. The thoughts kept racing through my mind, fuelled by adrenaline and the idea of staying alive long enough to regret coming on this stupid mission. I heard some echoed shouts from the direction of the city. They were still there, but the light had faded. They still weren’t firing. They must have seen me drop and thought they’d hit me. In grass this long, they might not even bother looking for me until the morning. I rolled onto my belly, swallowing the scream that formed in my throat as my broken foot flopped over, sending a jarring pain through my entire body. I heard a pop from behind me, and I looked back towards the city in time to see a single dot of light arc gracefully up into the night sky, before exploding into an incredibly bright ball. Light streamed across the field as the flare lit up the area. I looked back towards the treeline, and saw Steve. He was back far enough to not be fully lit up, but it was him. He was looking for me. I rustled the grass to draw his attention. Our eyes met and he beckoned me to come to his location with a hand gesture. I shook my head, trying to convey how fucked I was in a single look. Steve nodded and sunk back into the trees a few paces, out of the flickering light of the flare as it fell slowly towards the earth. I pulled myself forward on my arms as slowly as I dared. I had to keep going. One of the rooftops lit up behind me and bullets snapped into the earth, throwing up small clods of dirt and grass a few metres behind me, the barking gunfire echoing across the field. The flare continued its slow decent through the murky evening sky, lighting up the field as if it were noon. Pain slowly started to register as I continued to inch towards the tree line, making each forward motion worse. I tried to tuck it away, save it for when I would be safe. I didn’t really work. Each time I moved my leg, I wanted to cry out in pain. I kept going, as the earth continued to erupt around me. The flare fizzed out and the field plunged into darkness. I heard the sound of rushing footsteps from the treeline and a hand grabbed me by the handle on my backpack and dragged me towards the treeline. The cry that I had been holding back escaped at the sudden movement and I was spun around in time to see the rooftop light up as the machine gunner let rip with another volley. The volley of bullets ripped into the trees around us as Steve dragged me into the treeline and kept going. The hail of gunfire ripped through the bark, sending splinters into the air and thudding into the trees. Still we kept going. After a few more metres, Steve let go of my pack and I collapsed into a heap. The bullets were still ripping into the trees nearby, but we seemed to be safe for the moment. “How bad is it?” Steve asked as I pulled myself up to a sitting position on a tree, facing away from the city. “Bad.” I replied. It was difficult to see anything as the night moved in to claim any visibility that remained after the flare had destroyed our natural night vision. “It’s my ankle Steve. It’s broken.” “Can you make it to the lodge? The doc might still be alive there.” Steve asked, running his hand down my leg until he reached my broken ankle. Pain shot through me as he hit it and I managed to only let out a grunt of pain, choking back the worst of it. “I don’t know. Maybe if I had some crutches or something.” I replied. The irony of having been at a hospital earlier in the day was not lost on me at that moment. I patted myself down, checking to see if any of the bullets had hit home. There didn’t seem to be any additional holes in the parts of me I could reach. Steve patted my knee and said “Give me a minute.” Before silently fading into the surrounding forest. After a moment, I heard the sound of wood breaking and a few thumps before Steve crept back into my peripheral vision. A hand appeared in front of my face and I took it. Steve pulled me up and gave me a broad, roughly cut stick about the width of my arm and shoulder height. A single, makeshift crutch. He put it in my hands. “I can’t carry you back there Al, but you can make it.” I nodded. “Then we’d better keep going, hadn’t we?” I put the crutch in front of me and skipped forward on my good foot and further into the forest. “You know,” Steve said as we made slow, painful progress towards the hut. “when we get back to the airfield, we’re probably going to be off the hook for a while.” “What… Do... You… Mean” I asked, each word between a gasp as I lurched forward behind him. “Well think about it. We’ve gotten the medical supplies, and if we’re lucky, we’ll even come back with a slightly-broken, but still qualified doctor.” “The one…. That you wanted…. To mercy kill… Today?” “Yeah. Him.” Steve said “Look, he seemed like he was in a lot of pain. Like you are now.” “You’d be… Surprised… At what… The body… Can endure.” I replied through gritted teeth. “No shit.” Steve said. The conversation trailed off as we crept slowly through the forest, and towards the promise of rest, and hopefully a functional doctor. The moon had fully risen as we approached the farm house, skirting around the treeline as best as a cripple could. Smoke wafted gently from the chimney as the pale blue light from the moon bathed the surrounding grassland in a surreal glow. Every single muscle in my body ached, but seeing that smoke gave me some glimmer of hope. Edgar had to be in there. As we arrived at the door, I knocked it three times. “What’s up, Doc?” I said. I heard some footsteps shuffling across the floor, and the sound of a lock being turned. Considering how easy it would be for an assailant to put a window through, or kick the door down, it seemed that Edgar was set in the ways of being a civilised man. The door creaked open and there stood the doctor, his shoulder covered, but still clearly a mess. “Remarkable.” He said “I didn’t expect to see you alive again.” “Likewise, doc.” Steve replied as he put his arm under my shoulder and lifted me through the door. “What happened?” Edgar asked, looking down at my ruined ankle. “The same thing that happened to you Edgar,” I replied as the door closed behind me “only somehow, I managed to avoid the bullet.” We moved slowly into the living space, where Steve put me down in the same chair that I had occupied only a day ago. It really felt more like a lifetime since I had sat down and been comfortable. I felt myself drifting away into sleep almost immediately.

After a very, very, VERY long haiatus, I have returned, to finish what I began almost a whole year ago. So, 2nd to last chapter, and hoping to finish off the story within a week, I give you: V – Berezino – Shock and Awe We'd gotten about a hundred metres down the road when the shock of the hospital run hit me. A wave of dizziness and nausea swept over me. I reached out to steady myself against the edge of the apartment block that we were skirting around, the echo of sporadic gunfire still ringing around the buildings surrounding the hospital complex. I leaned my back against the wall and slid down it until I was sat on the ground. The sound of the rifle shaking in my trembling hands became overwhelming. I couldn't stop looking at it, or my hands. It seemed to represent everything that lay ahead of me, for as long as I was going to be able to outrun these damned zombies, or whatever the hell they were. I felt a tug at my shoulder and looked up at Steve. He was pulling at the shoulder straps of my pack and his lips were moving. It took me a moment to realise that he was talking to me. Sounds slowly bled back into my thinking and his hushed words started to register. "Al, come on man, we've got to keep moving." There was an unspoken plea in his words. "I need a couple of minutes. Just a couple." I replied, the words slowly filtering through my shaking teeth. "They didn't bite you in the hospital, did they?" He asked, taking a step back from me. I couldn't say I blamed him for asking the question. Suspicion was only natural when it was possible that your friends could well turn on you once they'd been infected. I shook my head. "No, your sharp-shooting saw to that." "Okay Al. Give me a minute, I'll find somewhere for us to shore up." Steve replied. He went to the back door of the apartment complex and stepped in. A moment later he re-appeared, helped me to my feet and slowly took me inside. We ended up sat at a kitchen table in a ground floor apartment; the previous occupants had left in a hurry. The table had been set for a meal, and some pots were on the stove. I took my time, drank some water and ate some of the ever-dwindling supplies that we had. Steve carefully re-distributed the medical supplies between our two packs, and then sat opposite me whilst I recovered and carefully checked his Winchester. I could see him cycle out the shells I'd crammed in hurridly in the hospital, only to load up some slugs. It felt like hours passed whilst I got myself back under control. Eventually Steve broke the silence. "It's stopped." "What has?" I replied "The gunfire." Steve replied, looking at me. "How you feeling, Al?" "Better," I conceded. Some food and drink had done the trick, but it had taken valuable time. Our diversion to slip out had now officially come to an end. "I'm sorry Steve." "Shit happens, Al." He replied with a shrug. "The only question we've got now, is what do we do next?" "I don't know. But they're going to be looking for us now, and in a big way. I don't think these are the kind of people that let something like this go." Steve shook his head. "Unlikely. If anything, we've just become their first priority. It doesn't take rocket scientists to figure out what we were after in the hospital." I sat for a moment longer, considering what we should do. The sun was slowly creeping towards the horizon, but we couldn't afford to wait until night to make our escape. Time was against us, and we had a hostile force looking for us. Steve sighed and drummed his fingers on the table a little before speaking again. "We're just going to have to go for it Al. Right now, that sniper team is the only issue. We wait much longer, and it's going to be messier." I nodded. Steve picked up his pack and gun and placed my pack on the table. "I've split up the medical stuff. I don't like thinking about it, but we've got to face the fact that we might not make it back to the airfield. No offence intended, you understand." He finished with a grin. "None taken, it's a good point." I replied, taking my pack and rifle. If we were just going to go for it at this point, there was really no way to know what the outcome would be. We left the apartment building in silence and continued along to the warehouse. Progress was slow, but steady. We made it to the outer yard of the warehouse and the concrete wall that marked the perimeter. Silence hung in the still afternoon air like a weight around my neck. We looked at the roofline of the warehouse to see if the sniper team had turned around from the commotion in the centre. I couldn't see anything, but then again, if they were good snipers, I figured that I wouldn't see anything anyway. After a moment, Steve motioned with his head towards the main entrance of the building that we needed to head into to take care of our sniper problem. As we headed through the front yard, between shipping pallets and containers, I felt my heartbeat quicken and the adrenaline started to pulse through me. I tightened my grip on the Lee Enfield, hoping that whatever happened, if I needed to shoot, I'd do it with the same amount of skill that Steve had displayed in the hospital. Before I realised it, we were looking at the front door. "Okay, so as far as we know, they're on the roof." Steve started. I nodded in reply. "I saw the stairs and walkway that they went up when they got there this morning, but there's another exit up onto the roof as well. I think we'd be able to take them by surprise if we're careful about. You agree?" Steve looked at me. I nodded again. My brain didn't seem to be functioning correctly at the moment. I put it down to shock and tried to focus. Steve’s look became one of slight concern. “Al, this will only work if we’re both doing our part. You’ve been holding it together from the start, better than me even. But we both need to be on our game now.” I nodded again. Something wouldn’t stop gnawing at me though. I recognised it soon enough. It was because we intended to murder these men. “And what if they surrender?” I asked, more hopeful than anything. “You know that they won’t.” Steve replied. “They’re soldiers, Al. All they know is how to kill.” He looked away from me for the last sentence and stared at the door. I got the feeling that he didn’t see it, though. His eyes looked too distant. He snapped himself out of it and turned his gaze back to me. I saw resolve in his eyes. Determination and a will to live that just hadn’t been there a few days ago. Pressure does funny things to people. I checked my rifle quickly. The bolt slid back smoothly to uncover the bullet casing that had been loaded into the chamber. It was all I needed to worry about. “Then let’s do this quietly.” I said, as we slipped through the door into the building interior. The dust still sat in the air, gently being billowed around the spaces which were lit by the now-setting sun filtering through the dirty windows. Our feet fell softly upon the smooth concrete floor as we moved around the silent machines again, bathed in the reddish light of the evening. We moved to the metal stairwell at the back of the building and moved up it as silently as we could. It wound around the inside wall, past some office cubicles set into the first floor and then up another set of stairs. We ended up looking at a blue metal door, with a very normal looking push handle and some Cyrillic words printed above it. I could only assume it meant roof access. I pushed the handle down slowly and opened the door the merest fraction of an inch. Steve peered through the gap and shook his head. I pushed the door open a little further, and then a little further again. More head shakes, but Steve raised his gun to his cheek and stepped back a bit. He looked at me and then raised his eyebrows. I pushed the door open with a small creak and followed him as he stepped out onto the flat roof of the warehouse. The noise of our boots crunching onto the gravel that had been spread across the roof was the only noise we were greeted with. There were a number of pipes and ducts poking out onto the roof in places, but there didn’t appear to be any people. We moved around slowly, checking in the places that they could have hidden, but nothing was here. After a few minutes, we ended up back at the blue door. Steve had a puzzled look on his face as he scanned the area. “Well, it looks like they may have been called back to the hospital after all.” He finally conceded. He almost looked disappointed. “Yeah, which is lucky for us.” I replied, stepping back into the stairwell. “lucky for them, more like.” Steve quipped as we started our way down the stairs. In spite of myself, I grinned and shook my head as we made our way back to the ground floor. We stepped out of the warehouse and carefully moved back through the yard towards the field. As we edged around the wall, the sun began its decent over the horizon, stretching the shadows of the treeline out beyond us. We stopped, leaning back against the wall, waiting for it to get a little darker before we made the burst towards the treeline. I found it hard to believe that not too long ago, the idea of a hospital trip taking a full day would’ve seemed mad, but then again, so would have a lot of things that I’d been through. “You remember what I said about that sniper team having night vision?” Steve mentioned as we watched the sun creep lower on the horizon. “Vaguely,” I replied. “This morning feels like a year ago, though.” Steve coughed a laugh. “Yeah, tell me about it. Well, if they’re there, and they’ve got NV, we’re dead. You know that, right?” “Steve, we’re in Hell, as near as I can see it. A lot of people would see a bullet in the head as a mercy.” I replied. “Not me, and I don’t think you would either.” “Yeah. You’re right. We’ve got a job to do, I suppose.” “If we don’t do it, who will?” Steve asked, grinning at me. I flicked the safety off on my Lee Enfield, shrugged my shoulders and nodded. “No-one, I imagine.” I set off towards the tree line. Snipers be damned. --- Apologies for the delay :)

Hi again - sorry to have kept a few of you waiting for the next update. As it so often does, life crept in and threw me off the trail for a few days. I suspect that I have maybe 2 more chapter after this one, so without further ado, I give you: IV – Berezino – The Hospital The glass smashed easily as I forced the butt of the Remington through it before reaching in and unlocking the side door of the hospital. My pack felt unusually light and my pockets heavy with a mixture of shot-loaded shells and slugs. At the range I was going to be facing these creatures down, it didn’t matter what went into the gun, death would be sure to come out of it. I made my way into the main area as quickly as possible. The eerie silence of the building was punctuated by the odd groan. I remembered the last time I’d been in a hospital. It had been lively, full of chatter, noises on intercoms as doctors were paged about their patients. None of that was happening now. Only the smell of disinfectant lingered, mixing with the faint smell of rotting corpses. At the reception desk, I looked over to the main windows to see how visible I was going to be to any bypassing hostiles. Fortunately, long blinds covered most of them. I figured it’d be easier to play dead than engage people for as long as possible. Turning my attention to the desk itself, there was a large floor plan in a plastic cover with a big, red circle which stated “You are HERE.” The central stairwell was round the corner, and I was already in the B section of the hospital. Maybe this would work out alright for me after all. My thoughts were interrupted by a low, rasping growl from low behind the counter. A hand reached up and grabbed the desk as I leapt back, followed by a face, covered in gore and crusted blood. It looked at me, and turned the growl into an outright scream as it started to scramble over the desk, hand outstretched hungrily towards me. The gun came up to my cheek and I squeezed the trigger in one fluid motion. The creature was ripped apart as the shot-shell impacted at no more than a metre’s distance. As the echo and brief ringing in my ears faded away, I knew that the option of stealth was no more. I could hear more creaks and groans in the building as figures started to move around, searching for the source of the noise, and their next victim. I had to move fast. I ignited a road flare as I moved into the central stairwell. No natural lighting, and certainly no electricity made this a wise decision. The sporadic red light lit up pockets of the stairs, casting unusual shadows and forcing me to move slowly. I could hear noises from the floors above, but the stairway itself remained empty as I approached the 3rd floor exit. I kicked the door open and moved out into the corridor. The blinds took the edge off the light entering through the windows, but it was still bright as I scanned the corridor. One side was clear, the other very much not. As they saw me, they sprang forward, almost as a group. The first one was almost upon me as I raised the gun to my shoulder. I didn’t know if I’d even have time to aim. The window shattered to my left and the creature’s head snapped back as the bullet penetrated its skull. I silently thanked Steve as the second one was slowed down by the first one collapsing back into it. As the Remington exploded to life in my hands, I tried to see how many there were. Harder still was trying to count my shots as they kept coming. Some moved quickly, scrabbling along on all fours, some slowly shuffled towards me, some even crawled. But they never stopped until I put them down. Again and again I fired, then cocked the weapon for the next shot. After the tenth one, I pulled a handful of shells out of my pocket and fed them frantically into the weapon. I checked behind me just in time to see another window shatter and a previously unseen creature collapse in a pile. I kept moving back, slowly giving ground as the horde thinned out. The last one was thrown back about half a metre as the slug lifted it clean off its feet. I lowered the rifle, and surveyed the carnage. There had been enough noise to wake the dead. I allowed myself a laugh at the ridiculousness of the phrase I’d chosen became apparent. Shaking my head, I reloaded the Remington and went in search of a sign. I figured I only had a couple of minutes before the other hostile inhabitants of the city came along to see who was making all the noise. I found the store room and opened it up. Fortunately, it had some windows and enough light to see all the names of the various drugs and other bits that I was looking for. I filled the bag as quickly as possible and stepped back out into the corridor, fully laden with what we’d come so far for. Now I just had to get out. I traced my way back to the stairway and picked up the flare I’d left propping the door open. The door swung open, and I was met with the frenzied looking face of one of the damned. The shotgun came up to meet its chest and I pulled the trigger. It was knocked back, but I could see more of them scrabbling towards me from the stairwell. I backed up, into the corridor and started running. I needed room to manoeuvre. They came flying out the corridor, chasing me with all of the wailing and screaming that accompanied some of the most vivid nightmares I’d had since this whole damn outbreak had begun. I made it to the end, hearing the occasional rifle shot from outside as Steve put one of them out if it's misery. Looking down the corridor, I saw a glass sign, with a bright green ‘EXIT’ printed on it. Running as fast as I could towards it, flare in hand, I kicked the door open and looked in. Empty. I leapt down the stairs two at a time as the noise from the horde amplified up and down the stairwell. I kicked open the emergency exit at the bottom of the stairwell and burst out into a courtyard. I was met by three amazed looking people dressed in camo gear and toting automatic weaponry, stood not five metres away from me. They raised their weapons, grinning like they’d just been handed the catch of the day on a fishing boat. Their looks turned from bemused surprise into panicked horror as I dove to the side and the damned horde burst out the exit behind me. I scrabbled a few metres to the side as the three opened fire, trying to stem back the flow of Zeds that had been alerted to my intrusion. I couldn’t quite believe my luck as I continued to scrabble away, no longer the focus of their hunger. I stood to my feet as I made it round the corner and ran as fast as I could back towards the meeting point that I’d agreed with Steve. He was waiting for me, something between relief and surprise on his face as I made to the back entrance of the apartment block. “I’m surprised.” Was all he said as we moved straight on through the gardens towards the factory at the city outskirts. “Yeah, you and me both.” I agreed. “Were you followed?” He asked, looking behind us. “I hope not, I bumped into some others, but they inadvertently helped me out with a little problem I was having.” “What do you mean?” He asked “Well, for now, our two hostile elements have each other to contend with. We just need to worry about that sniper team on the roof of the factory and then we can make a break for it.” I replied. “Well then,” Steve said “Now that we’ve woken the city up, I suppose we don’t need to go easy on them?” “I suppose not.” I said, as we turned at the corner that led us to the factory yard.

III - Berezino - The Job at Hand "What if these bandits have Night Vision or something like that?" Steve whispered hoarsely as we crouch-ran across the ill-fated field between the Tree line and the outskirts of the city. "If we don't hurry, they won't bloody well need them to take us out. The sun's coming up, keep moving!" I replied. As we had approached the city, my stress levels had climbed through the roof. Knowing that we were not only going to have to avoid a city full of the damned, but also an unknown number of people who had simply snapped and were nothing more than murderers now was not helping my situation. Still, it wasn't all bad. I was dry now at least, and so was my pack. I was armed and Steve had uncovered a map in the farmhouse. We had our route planned, and we were aware that there was more in the city to watch out for. I thought that it might just be enough to see us through it all as we got to the large concrete wall that surrounded the first factory on the cities edge. "Well, this is it." I said, catching my breath. I could feel my hands shaking from the adrenaline that was pumping liberally through my blood stream. I looked at Steve. His jaw was set in a resolved manner, that had been with him since he had been forced to blow away the damned inhabitants of the farmhouse we entered yesterday. His hands held his rifle steadily. I wondered whether I had misjudged him. He nodded at me. "Let's do this Al." He replied. I nodded and moved forward. Our pace slowed down and we moved around the wall and into the warehouse grounds. Once inside the perimeter, we moved between the shipping containers and stacks of pipes. It felt torturous, every sound was amplified to my ears, setting me on edge anew every single time. We were practically at a crawl when we saw the door to the interior of the factory. I stepped out from behind the shipping container we were up against, when movement caught my eye. I looked right into the face of one of the damned. It had been scratching at the ground, hidden from our view by the shipping container. It looked up at where I was stood but made no move towards me, and I noticed that it was blind. Its eyes had been torn from its face, leaving only bloody and blackened sockets. It was hideous beyond words. It sniffed at the air once or twice before turning its attention back to the ground, scratching and moaning in a high, gutteral pitch. I motioned for Steve to step past with my head whilst I raised my rifle and took aim, in case it made a move towards us. I noticed that I still had the stench of death about me. I carefully side stepped away from the solitary figure, rifle trained on it, and fell in behind Steve. I quietly let out a breath that I didn't realise I'd been holding in as we made it to the door and stepped through into the interior of the warehouse. I closed the door behind us and looked at Steve. He scanned the interior space quickly. Dawn light filtered through the high windows, shining through dust which had been disturbed by our entry into the building. It would have been pretty in any other situation. We moved into the interior. The machines which had once operated inside this building now did nothing more than provide cover. Steve had taken the lead once we were inside, moving silently along the cold concrete floor, with me following along behind him. Progress was slow. We were approaching a set of large loading bay doors when I heard voices from the far side. Steve and I ducked behind a stack of shipping pallets that were nearby as a smaller door opened within the loading bay door and two figures stepped through. They were carrying automatic weapons, and one had a sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. They were dressed in camouflaged clothing. I looked at Steve. He motioned with his head towards the figures who were moving into the warehouse, and I could tell what he was trying to get at. I shook my head slightly and listened. "This is a waste of time," The first figure said to his partner. "Why has Grigory got us doing lookout duties on the warehouse roof today?" "Shut up, Jacob." The second figure responded as they walked past our hiding place "we were meant to be up there an hour ago. There might be some more survivors headed into the city today." "What survivors?" the one called Jacob replied. "Those three runners last night were the only non-Zeds that have been spotted in a week. This is our city now, Dmitry." "Just be glad that we're not on cleanup duty. I don't fancy searching houses or burning the dead today." Dmitry said, as they climbed a metal staircase and up towards the roof of the building. Steve leaned in close to my ear when we heard a door close somewhere above us. "We could have taken them." He said. I shook my head. "And then what?" I replied "Their friends would know we were in town and they would make a point of hunting us down. At least we know that they are there for the way back out now, and that if we're careful, we can avoid being seen." "What about the cleanup crews they were talking about?" "We'll just be really careful, that's all. We've got to get on with the job at hand." "I don't want to die here, Al." "Me either, Steve. I intend to live." "Do you really think we can sneak past them?" He asked "I think our odds for survival are better if we don't try to outgun what appears to be a hostile militia, and we both know we can't back out now that it's daylight." "What if we're seen?" "Let's try to avoid that, if you have to return fire, then do it, but don't try and blaze these guys." I said, moving towards the small door that the sniper team had entered through. We stepped outside into a bright, crisp morning and carefully made our way into the heart of the city. We moved cautiously through small alcoves, back gardens, keeping below the window line and checking everything we could see before leaving cover. Progress was painfully slow, but effective. The sun had climbed high into the sky by the time we had made it safely into the centre of the city. We ended up in an apartment building overlooking the hospital. From our vantage point on the ninth floor of the building, we observed our objective. My heart sunk as I looked at what we were up against. There were outlines visible behind the blind-covered windows, but they didn't look like normal people. Moreover, there looked to be a lot of them, shambling around the floors. I swore under my breath. We'd gotten this far, only to find ourselves facing this. "Well, Al. That's pretty fucking awful out there." Steve said, surveying the side of the building facing us. "You're not wrong." I replied. "Can I see the list of supplies we're meant to get?" Steve took out his plastic map-holder and fished out a leaf of paper from between the folded map sheets. I took it and scoured the list. Morphine, Epi-pens, Sterile dressings, surgical tools and much more. It was a pretty impressive list. Scrawled at the bottom was the bit I was most interested in. 3rd Floor, Section B. I sat on the floor and folded the piece of paper back up, then put it in my coat pocket. "Can you take the gear in my pack?" I asked Steve. He nodded. "Sure, but what do you have in mind?" "Well, I don't think that we're going to be able to do this without making some noise. We'll probably alert some of the locals, both living and Zeds. I want you to watch over me from here whilst I get the supplies we need. I'll worry about what's inside." "You're mad." Steve replied. "Maybe, but I don't think we've got much of a choice here. I'll fill up my pack and head back to this building from the side exit we saw as we came around to here. When you see me leave, get out of here and meet me at the back entrance to this building. We'll have to make a bee-line back to the factory, take out the snipers and then head across the field. Hopefully, they won't think anything of the commotion." I looked up at Steve. He was rubbing his jaw with his hand, lost in thought. "It's a stupid, reckless, suicidal plan." He said at last. "But at least it's a plan." He took off his pack and started arranging it to accommodate my gear. "Oh, one more thing." I said as Steve was re-arranging his pack. "I need your gun." Steve nodded in agreement. "If you're going indoors, that rifle won't cut it. I was going to suggest it anyway." He took out some boxes of cartridges. I handed him all the bullets I had along with my rifle. "Don't get killed, Al. I like that gun." He said as I put as many cartridges as I could fit into my jacket pockets. I barked a laugh. "Yeah, good luck to you, too." I nodded at him, put on my empty pack and made my way down to the ground floor and out the back door of the building towards the hospital's side entrance, shotgun in hand.

II - Berezino - Complications I awoke in the chair I had fallen asleep in with a sore back, a rumbling stomach and the sight of Steve stirring some life back into the fire. It was still dark outside. "How are you feeling?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. It may not have been the ritz, but it was the best sleep I'd had in days. Steve nodded and continued poking at the fire. "Yeah, better thanks. I think it was just getting to me last night. Food and sleep have helped a lot." He looked over at me and did his best to smile. He looked tired, stressed, and terrified. I could only imagine I looked the same. "Well, it was pretty heavy going. You did well, kept your head together." I said, fishing around in my now-dry pack for something to drink. I found my canteen and shook it. Nearly empty, but I was pretty sure I'd seen a water pump outside when we made our approach. I was finishing the contents of my canteen when we heard someone pounding at the front door. It fell to the ground with a clatter as I grabbed my rifle and headed to the front door. "Please, let me in!" The voice at the door sounded desperate "I mean you no harm." I looked at Steve. He held his Winchester aimed steadily at the door, his face resolute. He nodded towards the door, flicking his eyes from it to me. I nodded. "Okay, we're going to remove the barricade." I said " We have weapons trained on the door, don't make any sudden moves." "I won't, I promise. Please open the door, I beg you!" I dragged the furniture out of the way and opened the door from the side. I didn't want to present an easy target, no matter how desperate the pleas from outside. A tall, skinny man practically fell through the door. He was unarmed, with a small chest pouch slung to his back and he appeared to be bleeding heavily from his left shoulder. I quickly closed the door behind him and replaced the barricade. I helped the man into a sitting position against the hallway wall. His breath was ragged, interspersed with rasping, hacking coughs. He was in a bad way. "How were you injured?" I asked him, once he had gathered his breath a little. "Shot." He replied, gulping down air and then coughing. Little red flecks of blood decorated the wall opposite him as he did so. "Where did this happen?" Steve asked. He had lowered his gun and was looking at our guest with something between horror and pity. "Berezino. I was trying to get out. Please, do you have some water to spare?" He asked. Steve looked at me, an unspoken question in his eyes. I nodded at him and he went next door to dig out his canteen. "Steve will get you some water. I need to ask you a few questions, can you answer them for me?" I asked. He nodded in reply. "Okay, firstly, what's your name?" "Edgar. My name is Edgar." He replied, holding out his right hand. I shook it. It was ice-cold. I wondered how much blood he had lost, from the look of him, it had to be a lot. "How did you find us Edgar?" He laughed when I asked him the question, but it quickly became another hacking cough. "It was the chimney smoke. I didn't see it at first in the dark, but as I got closer, it was like a beacon." I swore under my breath, we were going to have to kill the fire before it got light. "Okay. Let's get you in front of that fire and warm you up. How bad is your injury?" I asked, helping Edgar to his feet. "Pretty bad. I've done what I can, but I don't have the proper tools to remove the bullet or close the wound. Also, I need fluids to replace the lost blood." He sounded like he knew his stuff. "Are you a doctor?" I asked. He nodded. "I am. I was travelling with some friends of mine from Elektrozavodsk. We had been hiding out in the city, but the situation deteriorated. Bandits and military snipers are everywhere there. That is why we decided to flee to Berezino." I placed him down in the chair that I had been occupying until just a few moments ago and Steve handed me his canteen. It was full. Steve had been holding out on me. I opened it and passed it to our guest. He drank slowly, being careful not to spill or waste any. At least he had his wits about him, I thought. He stopped and looked me in the eye. "I'm the only one of my group that made it here. There were 8 of us when we set out. That was a week ago." He slumped in the chair, clutching the canteen in his good hand, fresh tears fell from his weary face. "I'm sorry for your loss. When did your injury occur?" I continued. "Last night. We were leaving Berezino, heading inland. We'd heard from another group that there was a survivor outpost to the East, at an old military airfield. My last two friends and I were approaching the outskirts of the city at dusk. We had carefully snuck past many of the infected through the day. It was a terrifying experience. We had just made it past the city limits when the attack came. We didn't see who it was. The friend to my left dropped before we heard the crack of gunfire. The bullet had passed cleanly through his heart. He was dead within seconds." He shrunk a little into his chair. "What about your other friend?" "We started running. We had no idea where the gunfire came from, we were just trying to make it to the nearest treeline. We had to cross a field of long grass to make it to the trees. We were half way across when the second shot rang out. My last friends head exploded in front of me." Edgar was now starting blankly towards the fire, speaking the words without any emotional attachment. To me, it looked like this had broken him, and I couldn't say I was surprised. "And how did you escape?" I asked, as gently as possible. A bitter laugh from Edgar echoed round the otherwise silent room. "I tripped over. Can you believe that? I am sure that my assailant believes me to be dead though. I stumbled over a manhole in the long grass just as the bullet intended to kill me hit home. It got me in the shoulder. It has ruined my left arm. I fear that this may well be the end for me." He took another sip from the canteen and looked around the room. "Still," He said "there are worse places to die than in a warm room, free from the infected." "What would you need to survive?" I asked. Edgar looked at me for a moment, then shook his his head. "I would need a transfusion to start with. I will also need to operate on my shoulder to remove the bullet and the fragments of bone before infection sets in. For now, I would be able to stabilise myself with a saline drip. Is there salt and sugar in the kitchen?" I grimaced, not really wanting to go back into the carnage of that room. "I'll be back in a minute, Doc." I said. I tried to hold my breath as I went into the kitchen once more. the stench of death was overpowering though. I could feel it sticking to me like a thin film of oil. I found the salt and sugar and returned to Edgar. He had procured a litre bottle of water, along with some rubber hose and an IV needle. We mixed a careful amount of the salt and sugar into the water and then fed the hose through a hole in the cap, controlling the flow with a knot. I attached the IV needle and he directed me to the vein in his arm. I secured the IV with some surgical tape from his pack and gave him some painkillers from my own supplies. I couldn't imagine how he must've felt right then. "Doc, we've got to go now." I said, looking over to Steve, who nodded. "We'll leave you the canteen and I'll leave a couple cans open with a spoon in it. if you feel like eating, you should be able to. It's not much, but it's all we can do at the moment." I said, gathering my pack together. I took out my M1911 and left it on the table. "I know you're not meant to hurt people Doc, but if someone comes in here meaning to do you harm, you'd better have this. When we come back, I'll knock three times and say 'what's up doc?' when you hear that, don't shoot, okay?" He looked at it, then me, and nodded. I showed him the safety mechanism, then left it off before patting him on his good shoulder, putting the fire out and heading out the door with Steve. We'd gotten about a hundred metres towards the city before he said something that shocked me. "I think we should have put him out of his misery." I stopped and turned to face my companion, seeing him in a new light "What gives you the right to end a man's life?" I asked. Steve shrugged his shoulders "injured as he was, it would probably be a mercy." He replied, matter-of-factly. "A living doctor is valuable, no matter how badly injured. Who knows what we'll be facing in that city. From his story, it'll be more than just the damned." Steve tutted. "This complicates things, Al. Remind me why we're doing this again?" He asked. I couldn't help but grin. "Because if we don't, who will?" I asked. "Hmph, good point." He replied, as we continued on our way to Berezino through the murky grey light that comes before dawn.

Hi All! Ryushin is the name - in game as well :) I've actually bought ARMA II for the express purpose of playing this mod, and I have not been disappointed by my experiences so far! My primary aim is to experience as much as possible within this game, and so far, in less than a week, I already have a huge wealth of story-worth things that have happened (ranging from a valiant, but futile last stand against an overwhelming force of Z's, right up to a tense stand-off/shoot-out with a bandit in a church, John-Woo style, and pretty much everything in-between :D ) I'm hoping to use some of these experiences to come up with little bits of fiction to post here and there, as I'm a bit of a budding writer and this is a superb muse :) I look forward to meeting as many of you as possible!

Hi All, I'm currently putting together a bit of a short story inspired by my in-game play time so far. I've had some excellent experiences (and a fair share of grizzly deaths!) and wanted to try and compose something around those. Thanks all for listening, and I look forward to meeting you in-game :) Ryushin I - Berezino - The approach It was raining, heavily. The soaked straps on my pack were eating slowly into my shoulders with every kilometre walked. I had long ago given up on the idea of being warm or dry today. The slate grey sky framed a misty skyline in the distance below us. Berezino, with a hospital, hopefully containing medical supplies was our intended destination. It had been a slow few days walking across the northern stretches of Chernarus. Every village we skirted around seemed to be infested with the damned. No one knew what it was, and talk at the Airfield base that our ramshackle group of survivors had assembled at ranged from a government super-virus gone wrong, right up to us living in the apocalypse. I kept my opinion to myself on it most of the time, as heated debates had led to weapons being drawn more than once since our little group of strangers had been placed under one roof. The Lee Enfield rifle I carried felt particularly heavy in my hands. I had discovered it in a farmhouse, mercifully empty, not two days ago. It's previous owner had clearly been someone who had carefully cared for this weapon. It was immaculate, and provided me a small, but welcome measure of security. My companion, a short, wiry man who went by the name of Steve surveyed the landscape behind us, wary of any enchroaching damned upon our barely-sheltered position at the edge of a tree line. "Remind me again why we're doing this?" He asked, his accented voice muffled by the continuing rainfall. "We need medical supplies." I replied. It was about the dozenth time we'd had this conversation. It hadn't changed since the first one. "Yeah, but why us?" came the response. "Because we're not mechanics, or doctors, or anything else particularly invaluable back at the Airfield. We're just people," I said, in much the usual fashion as I had since the first conversation. I decided it was time for some change in the conversation. "And besides which, you've seen how hostile it's getting back there. I don't know how much longer we're going to eke out an existence as a happy little group." I could hear Steve mulling this over for a moment behind me. "Yeah, you're right Al," He said with a sigh. "When you get right down to it, I don't know what the hell is going on around here, but that Airfield was getting oppressive." He shifted the Winchester rifle in his hands and moved up beside me to look down on the bleak city-scape below us. "What did you used to be, before all this happened?" He asked. It was the first time anyone had asked that since the outbreak had occurred. "I was a computer technician," I replied, grinning slightly at how stupid that sounded, considering the situation. Steve nodded for a few seconds, "how about you? What did you do?" "I was an Arborist. A tree surgeon." He replied. I pulled out a map of the area and looked for somewhere to shore up along the road. There appeared to be a few buildings half way between us and Berezino, presently hidden from view by mist and the surrounding hills. With any luck, it could be a farm. If we were really lucky, it might even be empty. I pointed it out to my companion. We agreed that it looked like the best idea considering our only other option was a potentially leathal night sleeping in the forest, cold and wet. The rain accompanied us as we slowly made our way towards the unknown buildings. It wasn't getting any lighter, in terms of both daylight and weather. We stayed clear of the roads. There was no point in advertising our presence. Darkness was setting in properly as we approached the cluster of buildings we had been heading towards. No lights shone from inside the main farmhouse. We stopped just short of the perimeter. "Well, we're here. Do you want to risk the house, or take the barn?" I asked. "House. I'm cold, it's miserable, and we can scavenge for supplies in there. Also, a fire would be really, really nice about now." There was no hesitation in the response. I could only assume he had been preparing for the question. I nodded in agreement. "Okay. If it's occupied?" I asked, leaving it hanging there for a moment. "Does it look occupied to you?" He replied, pointing at the house. "I didn't mean with people, Steve." I said, shaking my head slightly "Oh." We moved forward, Steve taking point, me with a flashlight behind him. I refrained from turning it on until we opened the heavy front door. It was unlocked. We stepped in, moving slowly into the dark, but dry space inside. As we moved into the kitchen, the smell of death hit us. I scanned the room with the flashlight until I saw it. A bloated corpse in the corner of the room. Long dead. A flicker to the right of it made me jump. I shone the flashlight directly into the hideosly disfigured face of one of the damned. It was covered in dried blood and rotting flesh, teeth bared like weapons and looking right at us. I felt my adrenaline surge as it began to growl, and then scream, as it stood and came at us. "TAKE THE SHOT!" I yelled at Steve. He appeared to be caught like a rabbit in headlights until I shouted at him. He pulled the trigger. Our would-be assailant's head exploded in a red mist as the shotgun blast tore through him at such a close range. The body folded as the wall behind us was liberally decorated with the contents of its skull. We were both frozen with shock for a few seconds. Then we heard thudding from above us, there were more upstairs. "Shit!" Steve exclaimed. "Back up into the corner. There can't be many of them." I replied, moving into the corner next to the corpse. I pointed the flashlight directly at the door and unholstered my M1911 pistol. I only had one clip for it, but it would have to do. The ones from upstairs burst into the room almost on top of each other. Steve's aim held true and I mercifully didn't even have to fire a single round. We checked the contents of the kitchen, taking some canned food, and other essentials before closing the buckshot-ridden door on the collection of corpses and moving into the living room. It was once again silent in the house. Steve sat down in a chair near an empty fireplace. "I think I saw a wood-shed outside." I said. Steve nodded, placing a shaking hand on his forehead. It looked like shock was properly setting in. "Steve. I'm going to go out there and get some firewood. We can dry out our gear and get warm for tomrorrow. Are you going to be okay in here?" I didn't even know if he could hear me at the minute. "I'll be fine Al. I'm just, just not used to living like this." His voice sounded raw. "None of us are." I replied before ducking out of the house. I returned with dry firewood, and we quickly got a fire underway. It seemed remarkably civilized and normal compared to the last several days. At least it did until I thought about what was in the Kitchen. As the room warmed, we searched the upstairs, discovering fresh clothing, some good boots that fitted Steve nicely and some better all-weather coats. No sign of any other inhabitants. We made our way back downstairs and barricaded the front door with some furniture. Once we'd changed and our old clothes were drying out, we sat in comfortable chairs around the fire and ate our scavenged food. "Al," Steve said "do you think that they are still human? That they can still feel stuff?" He asked between mouthfulls of beans. "I hope not." I replied. "I can't think of them as human anymore Steve. They come at us as soon as they smell, see, or hear us. They don't speak... I don't think that there is any humanity left in them." I replied after a moment. "If it happens to me Al, will you shoot me? Please?" Steve asked. He looked at me, and I could see tears in his eyes. He was seriously upset. "Don't think like that Steve. We're going to get into Berezino, pick up the supplies, make it back here, shore up and then head back out to the airfield. We'll be safe and we'll have done our bit for the community. We'll be safe." "Do you really believe that Al? A few hours ago you had some doubts." He replied. "I still do, Steve. But what other options are there? We're living in Hell." "You'll do it though, won't you? Shoot me if they get me?" Steve asked again. He really wanted an answer. I sighed gently. "Yes, I'll do it Steve. I'd want you to do the same if they got to me." We nodded at each other and shook hands. Soon afterwards, I fell into a deep, and dreamless sleep.

This is an awesome meta-game. I want to get enough players together to launch a dew-quest!