Dayz Diary – Day 2 – ‘I think it would have been difficult to keep on living once my head was chopped off.’

A lighthouse is a sign of hope, guidance in the choppy seas sending a wayward traveler onto the safe path back home. This lighthouse, however, is a twat. Fuck. This. Lighthouse.

As I gaze, slightly blurry now due to the lack of blood, over the surrounding trees and out to sea perhaps now I realise what the pink zombie lady was trying to tell me. She saw my goal, my hopes, my dream of reaching the lighthouse and she saw its futility. I depressed a zombie.

I climb slowly down the ladder, my mind dulled by the failure I’ve just experienced. I try to focus on what to do next. I’ve no food, I’ve got one weapon, I’m miles from anything and I don’t know what direction to go in to find anything I need to live. I stop trying to focus on what to do next as it becomes too depressing. I consider if I could find the zombie lady and maybe talk to her, get her to stop trying to eat my face and settle down, learn to fish and grow old together, every night watching the sun set into the ocean as I duct tape her limbs back on.

I do check back on the house but the zombie lady is gone, just as well it would seem. With little else to do I strike out to what I assume is the north of the island, it’s at least in the opposite direction I came from and so if I die at least I die somewhere new. I mentally flip off the lighthouse as I leave, trecking through the forest. An abandoned deer hide offers nothing for me and when I reach the north of the island the two shacks I find are empty as well. Who would have thought an island in a post apocalyptic world would have nothing on it.

The mainland is fairly close, I spot a wrecked ship to the east but learning my lesson I ignore it and swim out.

It takes a few minutes but I eventually wash up on the shore like yesterday’s used condom. A few shack houses greet me but off er little more than a tin of sardines, a screwdriver and a pair of handcuffs. The tin of sardines is messily opened and devoured and at least takes care of one of my bodies nagging needs.

I end up at the roadside, thirsty and unsure of my next steps. I’ll need to find more food and drink to try and recover some of this blood loss. That means a town of some kind which fills me with dread but running into the country and hoping to stumble on a village is too big a gamble. I’m vaguely aware that south generally holds more towns than north so I turn left and start down the road.

A few minutes later I arrive at the outskirts of Kanyshovo, the main street with about 10 houses on it has a road heading to the right. Time to explore later, time for a house to house. The first house gives up a pair of cargo pants and a new shirt. The second property gives me a life saving drink of soda and a can of tuna. I wolf down both ignoring the fact I’m eating raw tuna.

The third and forth houses have cursory items, rotten fruit or a random spanner. I reach the intersection and decide to finish off this side of the street and then make my way further into town. I’m rewarded with a hoodie, another screwdriver and a first aid kit with some bandages, IV kit and blood kit. As I prepare to abandon this street the last house beckons me in.

The main house gives me very little, a fairly undamaged motorcycle helmet is the best I come across but as I exit via a side room I spy something red on the floor. Attached to it is a long piece of wood and I examine it and I’ve found myself a pristine Fire Axe. I feel the weight in my hand and immediately the baseball bat that has served me so well is turned into tomorrow’s firewood. A grin spreads across my lips, it’s clobbering time….. with an axe.

I head further into the town, checking house by house, a few food and drinks items finally get me back on an even keel, no more complaints at least. I find a few curiosities as well notably a bottle of home brewed alcohol designed to help clean wounds as well as a bottle of disinfectant. I vow to see which helps my wounds stop being a problem later on. As I’m rooting through a house I suddenly hear the unmistakeable sound of another person groaning in pain. Someone near by is hurting…

“Yo, I can hear you hurting out there…”

I try to get a response before judging what to do next. No reply is forthcoming so keeping my back to a wall I slide out a side door keeping the sound to one side so I can check if it moves. I finally end up in the street, a single figure is kneeling in the middle of the road, bleeding profusely.

“Hey man, do you need some help?”

No response again, I creep up to him. No movement. Either this guy is waiting to attack me when I drop my axe to help him or he’s beyond help. Looking around in case anyone is watching it takes less than a second for me to decide I really want to know how good this axe really is. By the time his head finally stops rolling down the hill I have my answer, one hit, one kill.

I’m broken from that train of thought by further groaning from another house, I creep in axe raised. The small kneeling, bleeding tableau greets me.

“Do you have any bandages?”

I question to him but again no response. I check his backpack, nothing more than a torch and a battery. I look down at him, he’s basically dressed apart from a furry hat. That furry hat saves his life. I take a bandage and stop his bleeding. This person, who I’ve never met and tomorrow could kill me, took the time before I found him to wear a hat. It makes him somehow more a person. I’m balancing things, trying to make my personal karma account at least back to zero.

I leave the stranger and head off into the woods, there’s a rough path leading away north, I take the decision to follow it and see if I can get away from the coast and get my health sorted, let my body heal and then perhaps think about finding a bigger hub and see if there’s anyone else out there who isn’t out to kill me.

Kamyshovo, it’s a hell of a town….