Day Z

[Jonathan Meer]

I started a character last night. Began on a beach; no idea who I was, where I was, where I was going. I began walking north. After a half-mile, I came upon a small hamlet; five houses. I scoped the place out for the better part of ten minutes; there was a small cloud of zombies buzzing around it, but if I found a gap in their line, I may have been able to run forward and search for supplies. But just as I was steeling up to jump in, I heard a fevered cry to my left; a crouched zombie, merely ten feet away, was hammering its way toward me. I scrambled up and ran, and it chased me, and I ran: maybe a mile, under a bridge, through a small forest. Eventually I didn't hear it's chirps any more, and when I turned around, it was nowhere to be seen.

I rested, and walked on. I quickly came to a larger town; eight or nine houses and two barns. A larger cloud of zombies this time, but far more promise for supplies. Barns meant farmers and farmers meant guns. I needed to protect myself, then I could go about looking for food and water. I began my process again; scoping the place out, looking for a hole.

I heard a chirp behind me and whirled around to find a crouching zombie (that same one from before? Was it really out of sight?) biting into my neck; I panicked and ran forward into the town, leaving behind a steady stream of blood. The barn came before me, and I prayed that I would be able to shut its open doors, perhaps giving me enough time to bandage my open wound, but I instead found the doors far too heavy for me to move. The trail of zombies now alerted to my presence screeched and wailed behind me, as I ran up the stairs in the barn to the third floor, leaving a small twelve-foot standing area and a small window; too small to jump out of. As they slowly made their way up the stairs (thankfully they climbed slower than they ran), I began to make my peace and waited for what would come.

A small shine to the left caught my eye. A Winchester rifle. Fevered, I grabbed it and checked the ammo count: 30 bullets. The first zombie fell with a groan, but the following two were just behind it, and only one bullet was chambered. I jumped down the two stories, landing hard and with pain, and ran up the matching set of stairs on the other side of the barn. It was far worse than I thought; the barn was already filled with eight or nine zombies, and there were more chirps outside. Even with my newfound weapon, this did not look promising.

Then, I heard a human voice. "Don't shoot. Don't shoot! I'm a survivor! I'm coming!" I could barely believe my eyes, but a rather well-outfitted human came into the bar, ran up the stairs I had just left, and began shooting zombies with his own rifle. For two minutes, we made a pair; defending the separate entrances to the barn, an unspoken agreement between us. I was weak and almost delirious with blood loss, and my aim was not what it would have been, but I made a fair show of holding my own. Just a little further. Just a moment of respite and I can bandage my wounds and go about the long process of healing.

It was not to be. My vision doubled from blood loss, and there were too many coming toward me. I fell, and died. I don't know what happened to that man who came to help, but I hope he made it.

(The roleplaying aside (it's hard not to; this game is immersive as hell), this is a rather straightforward description of the actual gameplay; and my most recent death)