taylu_b wrote:motive me you and marshall definitely need to dayz i see us doing big things
Everything you are about to read is true.
The twilight backdrop that fell to the horizon reflected on the crashing waves. These fucking stars will be the death of me. The half moon hung up in the air light a busted spotlight.
I made my way towards the military airstrip near Balota. Dangerous territory. Right on the coastline. It's frequented more than the NW and NE airfields since it's so close to all the spawn points. My M4A1 was running low, and I was hungry for more ammo. I pressed on.
The airfield was crawling with zombies. Either someone was already here, or someone was already dead. I couldn't know which. I saw a flare in the distance, burning in the center of the Balota village. Was that my mystery guest? Or was it just a passerby? More questions, still no answers. I'd have to be careful.
I approached from the west of the base. I'd have to dash through the open field, taking cover behind disparate rows of bushes and tall grass. I ran.
By the time I got to the deserted guard post out front, I was in the middle of zed territory. I crawled slowly underneath the gate, listening to the somber moans of the infected. A cacophony of horror surrounded me. At least I was mostly invisible in this tall grass.
At that moment I saw a shadowy figure come into view, silhouetted against the moonlit sky. I froze. It was a zombie, a "hopper." A sneaky piece of shit that hobbles around on the ground where you won't notice him. There was nothing I could do but hope.
He hopped right past me, close enough for me to smell his rotting flesh, a fetid remnant of humanity. Too close. I slithered away.
I had made it to the trees and bushes that extend beyond the rear fence, but the extra concealment only gave me the illusion of safety. I continued crawling towards the back door and stopped dead in my tracks.
Barbed wire. Two rows of it. Someone had settled in, and I was about to come knocking. But was anybody home? I recalled the flare in the village. It burned out, or someone had extinguished it.
I inched my way inside silently until I came to the wire. Luckily, the wire was inside, right next to the staircase, instead of barricading the door itself. I shut the door behind me. I'd be totally defenseless while I vaulted over. I hopped over one row of wire, then another. My footsteps landing back on the tiled floor might be enough to get me killed if anyone were there. I cursed my clumsiness.
Underneath the staircase was empty. That meant either bad luck, or someone just took all the loot and was waiting for me upstairs. I froze again when I finally paid notice to that noise in the background.
Buzzing?
Flies. Flies buzzing around a carcass like vultures. It was deafening. Maybe two bodies upstairs rotting away, poor bastards. Maybe they were the lucky ones.
Did they meet each other here and trade shots, leaving them both dead? Were they compatriots that betrayed each other at the sight of some advanced weaponry? Greed is as big a killer as bullets are.
I remembered how much noise I made while carelessly vaulting that barbed wire. I readied my rifle and went upstairs. I passed right by loot on the second floor; whoever might be upstairs would be waiting for me to do such a stupid thing. I peeked around the corner and looked up into the control tower. Empty. But he could be lying in wait around the corner.
I dashed upstairs and cleared the tower. Empty. I breathed a sigh of relief. I checked around for the dead bodies but couldn't find them. They might be on the roof. I'm not crazy enough to go up there. Too exposed.
In the corner I spotted an M14 with optics and plenty of magazines. Jackpot. I was already well-equipped with my M4A1, but now I could more easily scout out a town and pick off zeds--or other survivors.
My pack was already full up with water and food, so I'd have to make some room. The irony was not lost on me. Dropping things that are meant to keep me alive for something that could get me killed.
I was about to stash the rifle in my bag when I heard a single shot ring out. Bullets started flying and breaking through the glass. My instincts kicked in and I unloaded half a mag towards the sniper. Our gunshots cracked and reverberated along the mountains.
I rolled behind the wall, listening to the ricochets and watching bullets hit the floor next to me, kicking dust into my eyes. I poked my head up long enough to hear another gunshot from up in the mountains half a kilometer away. I ducked before another bullet ripped through the window--and me. He had my number. I tensed up, I couldn't move, but staying put was a death sentence. If it were me, I'd keep my spotter with me and send two guys to flank the control tower and put me out of my misery. I had to get ready. They could have been waiting in a cargo container in one of the adjacent hangars this whole time.
Bullets continued to rain on the tower. I hoped there was only one sniper out there. Suddenly, the gunfire lapsed for but a moment. He was reloading. I sprung to my feet and bounded back down the staircase.
I went all the way down to the first floor of the tower. The ladder upstairs was a problem, but I'd have time to hear them climbing up and making their way downstairs. The back door. I'd have to watch the back door.
The rear entrance faced the forested mountain where the sniper lay in wait. The rest of his bandit posse could make their way down the mountain in total cover, slip through the hole in the fence, and crawl right up to the side of the building without me ever noticing.
The barbed wire would work in my favor this time, at least. I tossed flares outside the door towards the darkness in the trees. Every swaying branch and falling leaf that flickered in its glow seemed hostile. I swapped my half-spent M4A1 magazine for a full one and put another six rounds of .45 into my revolver. I pulled my two frag grenades out of my pack. If it came down to it, I decided I'd wait until they were right on top of me, pull the pin, and take us all out.
I was primed and ready. I took a defensive position underneath the staircase and poked my head out just enough to watch the door.
And there I waited.
[quote="taylu_b"]motive me you and marshall definitely need to dayz i see us doing big things[/quote]
Everything you are about to read is true.
The twilight backdrop that fell to the horizon reflected on the crashing waves. These fucking stars will be the death of me. The half moon hung up in the air light a busted spotlight.
I made my way towards the military airstrip near Balota. Dangerous territory. Right on the coastline. It's frequented more than the NW and NE airfields since it's so close to all the spawn points. My M4A1 was running low, and I was hungry for more ammo. I pressed on.
The airfield was crawling with zombies. Either someone was already here, or someone was already dead. I couldn't know which. I saw a flare in the distance, burning in the center of the Balota village. Was that my mystery guest? Or was it just a passerby? More questions, still no answers. I'd have to be careful.
I approached from the west of the base. I'd have to dash through the open field, taking cover behind disparate rows of bushes and tall grass. I ran.
By the time I got to the deserted guard post out front, I was in the middle of zed territory. I crawled slowly underneath the gate, listening to the somber moans of the infected. A cacophony of horror surrounded me. At least I was mostly invisible in this tall grass.
At that moment I saw a shadowy figure come into view, silhouetted against the moonlit sky. I froze. It was a zombie, a "hopper." A sneaky piece of shit that hobbles around on the ground where you won't notice him. There was nothing I could do but hope.
He hopped right past me, close enough for me to smell his rotting flesh, a fetid remnant of humanity. Too close. I slithered away.
I had made it to the trees and bushes that extend beyond the rear fence, but the extra concealment only gave me the illusion of safety. I continued crawling towards the back door and stopped dead in my tracks.
Barbed wire. Two rows of it. Someone had settled in, and I was about to come knocking. But was anybody home? I recalled the flare in the village. It burned out, or someone had extinguished it.
I inched my way inside silently until I came to the wire. Luckily, the wire was inside, right next to the staircase, instead of barricading the door itself. I shut the door behind me. I'd be totally defenseless while I vaulted over. I hopped over one row of wire, then another. My footsteps landing back on the tiled floor might be enough to get me killed if anyone were there. I cursed my clumsiness.
Underneath the staircase was empty. That meant either bad luck, or someone just took all the loot and was waiting for me upstairs. I froze again when I finally paid notice to that noise in the background.
Buzzing?
Flies. Flies buzzing around a carcass like vultures. It was deafening. Maybe two bodies upstairs rotting away, poor bastards. Maybe they were the lucky ones.
Did they meet each other here and trade shots, leaving them both dead? Were they compatriots that betrayed each other at the sight of some advanced weaponry? Greed is as big a killer as bullets are.
I remembered how much noise I made while carelessly vaulting that barbed wire. I readied my rifle and went upstairs. I passed right by loot on the second floor; whoever might be upstairs would be waiting for me to do such a stupid thing. I peeked around the corner and looked up into the control tower. Empty. But he could be lying in wait around the corner.
I dashed upstairs and cleared the tower. Empty. I breathed a sigh of relief. I checked around for the dead bodies but couldn't find them. They might be on the roof. I'm not crazy enough to go up there. Too exposed.
In the corner I spotted an M14 with optics and plenty of magazines. Jackpot. I was already well-equipped with my M4A1, but now I could more easily scout out a town and pick off zeds--or other survivors.
My pack was already full up with water and food, so I'd have to make some room. The irony was not lost on me. Dropping things that are meant to keep me alive for something that could get me killed.
I was about to stash the rifle in my bag when I heard a single shot ring out. Bullets started flying and breaking through the glass. My instincts kicked in and I unloaded half a mag towards the sniper. Our gunshots cracked and reverberated along the mountains.
I rolled behind the wall, listening to the ricochets and watching bullets hit the floor next to me, kicking dust into my eyes. I poked my head up long enough to hear another gunshot from up in the mountains half a kilometer away. I ducked before another bullet ripped through the window--and me. He had my number. I tensed up, I couldn't move, but staying put was a death sentence. If it were me, I'd keep my spotter with me and send two guys to flank the control tower and put me out of my misery. I had to get ready. They could have been waiting in a cargo container in one of the adjacent hangars this whole time.
Bullets continued to rain on the tower. I hoped there was only one sniper out there. Suddenly, the gunfire lapsed for but a moment. He was reloading. I sprung to my feet and bounded back down the staircase.
I went all the way down to the first floor of the tower. The ladder upstairs was a problem, but I'd have time to hear them climbing up and making their way downstairs. The back door. I'd have to watch the back door.
The rear entrance faced the forested mountain where the sniper lay in wait. The rest of his bandit posse could make their way down the mountain in total cover, slip through the hole in the fence, and crawl right up to the side of the building without me ever noticing.
The barbed wire would work in my favor this time, at least. I tossed flares outside the door towards the darkness in the trees. Every swaying branch and falling leaf that flickered in its glow seemed hostile. I swapped my half-spent M4A1 magazine for a full one and put another six rounds of .45 into my revolver. I pulled my two frag grenades out of my pack. If it came down to it, I decided I'd wait until they were right on top of me, pull the pin, and take us all out.
I was primed and ready. I took a defensive position underneath the staircase and poked my head out just enough to watch the door.
And there I waited.