[04] Forest Sector

[DA 2009]

FOREST SECTOR

Time Of Day: Noon

Bunker: Active

Starting Players: -none-

[Alexander Trafford]

“What the fuck!” Trafford shouted into the barren nothingness before him. “That’s the second god damn time!”

Alexander slipped his twin Desert Eagles back into their respectful holsters and took a long drag from his slow-burning cigarette. Both times that he had fought in the miserable conditions of the frozen tundra, with fierce, howling winds biting at his raw and exposed skin, his imminent victory had been thwarted by some mysterious force. In both occasions the beautiful and mesmerizing energy dome that encased the battlefield had disengaged just before Trafford could enact the coup de grace upon his foe, resulting in their immediate teleportation.

It was strange, he realized, how, in both scenarios, he had become distraught by the escape of his opponents, but when he had actually completed his attack without interruption, and consequently ended Vad Zulenka, his celebration had been uprooted by a wave of disgust and sorrow. What the hell was wrong with him?

The drugs were slowly wearing off, and his confusion and stress was mounting a counter-attack. Without thinking about it he slipped his hand inside his suit and gripped the plastic bag that lie waiting within his inner pocket.

His feet stopped suddenly, and he clenched his eyes shut. The desire was nearly overbearing. He could feel the soft, white powder in the palm of his hand. The plunger of the hypodermic needle was resting against one of his fingers, and he could sense the spoon’s cold steel. It had been awhile since he’d had a fix.

You can do this, he reassured himself as his hand slowly withdrew from within the confines of his Armani suit. Instead, he slipped his fingers into his pants pocket, which was where he had stowed his pack of Marlboro Reds.

Lifting his gaze he noticed that he was no longer in the frozen, barren wasteland that he had so often occupied during this competition. He had been warped to the edge of that god forsaken region, which bode well for him. Trafford had been much more successful, and more comfortable, whenever he was not confronted with the screeching gusts of arctic fury.

His eyes became mere slits of their former shape and he tilted his head to the side, considering his options and weighing his chance of survival within a dense forest. A mass quantity of colossal, towering trees allowed him the opportunity to hide, and also gave him endless amounts of ammunition in the case of another battle. Here he would have everything from pine needles and acorns to full sized trees at his disposal. He liked the sound of that.

After exhaling a few rings of smoke from the depths of his lungs, and watching as they dissipated into nothingness in the cool breeze above, he took a cautious step into the forest. Immediately, his eyes fell to rest on a familiar sight.

It was another bunker. These damned things were everywhere!

Alexander Trafford exits the Arctic Sector and enters the Forest Sector, where he enters the Forest Sector Bunker.