David awoke with a start. His dirty hands tightened around the grips of his battered M4A1 Carbine. Slowly he sat up and pushed his back to the wall of the small room he temporarily called home, keeping his weapon trained on the door. Senses and nerves frayed to the breaking point he began to reflect on the past three months of his life.
It seemed like just yesterday that he and his family were out for a cruise, escaping the dull life he lead back in the United States. His wife had looked so happy leaning against the railing overlooking the ocean. He couldn't even remember her name. Hell he barely remembers his own name. That's the last night he saw her.
He had woken to the sound of klaxons ringing throughout the ship while being shaken by his wife. A general order was going out to the entire ship, to evacuate and abandon ship. They abandoned there possessions and ran, following the signs to the nearest lifeboat. Screams could be heard throughout the vessel. As they arrived at the landing platforms to board the lifeboats, an explosion rocked the ship and threw him, his wife, and a few others overboard.
An exhausted, hungry, and thirsty David slowly regained consciousness on the shore of an unknown destination. Clearly washed here by the tide. Hardly able to stand he pulled himself towards the blurry outline of what appeared to be a few houses in the distance. Maybe someone there could help him.
"Help" He cried out, his voice raspy with disuse, when he was closer to the houses.
No reply came, so he continued to pull himself closer. After a few moments of crawling he made it to the door of the closest house, just to find it unlocked and open. Curiosity getting the better of him, he slowly pulled himself to his feet and limped with his hand on the wall into the structure.
It had clearly seen better days. Papers, books, refuse, and dirt littered the floors. It seemed ages since someone had lived within its confines. The papers and books that were scattered around were written in a language he couldn't read, so they were of no use to him.
Staggering and nearly falling, he made his way to the faucet. When he turned the taps, nothing happened, no water. Next to the counter top was a refrigerator, partially open and clearly not running. He checked its contents to find moldy milk which nearly made him empty the remaining contents of his stomach, and a rotten orange.
"Damn" he cursed silently to himself. "I really need to find water."
Just then a rustling behind him caused him to spin on the spot and nearly fall over. A man, face obscured by the cloth he had wrapped around his head, stood there aiming a handgun at him. Instinctively he put his hands in the air.
The man said something in a language he didn't understand, so he said "I'm sorry I don't know what you're saying."
The man answered by repeating himself, slower, and with gestures. He pointed at David, then at the ocean, made a swimming gesture, then made a drinking gesture, to which David half shouted "YES!" causing the man to quickly recapture his aim on his target.
"Yes I am so thirsty" David answered making gestures of drinking and begging to the masked man.
Slowly the man brought one hand down to a canteen, and passed it to David who unscrewed the cap and took a generous swig, then another, then ano- the man ripped it from his grasp and put the lid back on while keeping his aim trained on David.
A noise outside caught both of their attention, the masked man swinging his gun towards the door, an unsuspecting survivor entered the room, saw the two men and screamed, shouting something in their native language. Whatever he said must have pissed off the masked man because a loud bang resounded through the house and the shouting went silent.
Suddenly gunfire filled the air as bullets rained into the building, David quickly backed himself into the steel refrigerator, despite the smell, and shut the door as the masked man was gunned down.
Silence filled his world, as he quietly sat listening to his own breathing, trying not to gag or be too loud. A thump just outside of the refrigerator caused him to jump. A few more noises and a few minutes later, David cautiously opened the door. The body of the masked man lay naked on the floor, bleeding from several bullet wounds. David could now see his face, his lifeless brown eyes staring back into Davids, sending a chill down his spine.
After noticing the body of the second mystery man was absent, he left, limping to the other two houses. Unfortunately the group that had killed his savior , albeit at gunpoint, had ransacked the other buildings already.
Cursing his misfortune he staggered onto the dirt road behind the houses, his luck suddenly doing a one-eighty when he noticed a few sets of boot prints, fairly fresh, leading into the woods. He gave chase.
About an hour later and the sun was starting to set. David realized that the temperature was also rapidly declining and his damp clothes were not helping to alleviate the situation. In the distance he heard voices, hushed, but relaxed. They were close, and their guard was down. Yet he could wait, hopefully.
Night descended on the camp, the fire they had built was extinguished and they all went to tents to sleep. Two men stayed seated around the embers of the fire, keeping watch, the other five went to the tents to sleep.
This group was much too large to take on, and he was about to leave when he noticed the dead man that the masked man shot. he was lying behind a few tents, mostly hidden from sight, they haven't bothered to strip him of his gear yet.
'What luck' David thought. 'I'm sure he won't mind helping me out here.'
He silently crept across the back of the tents, the soft rustle of his footsteps hidden by the wind in the trees. Quietly he pulled off his sleeping clothes shivering and replaced them with the fallen mans outfit. He had on some hunting camoflauge cargo pants, something rattled in the pocket which he quickly stifled and looked around to see if anyone had heard it. The sound of soft snoring and idle whispers of the guards met his ears.
Slowly he removed whatever rattled in the pocket to examine what it was. A compass, and a pen. He seperated them into different pockets so they wouldn't rattle. the pants were a size or two too large, but they were dry. Slowly he put on the mans socks and boots. The socks were slightly gross as he could feel the dried sweat on them, but they were wool so they would keep his feet warmer. The boots, had seen better days, but were miles above walking barefoot as he had been.
Once laced and ready to go, he donned the mans' long john shirt, followed by a thicker flannel. in the flannel was a folded piece of paper, a crudely drawn map that he could only assume due to the different language was the camp, the roads that ran by here, a crude compass rose drawn in the top left, and key cities and their distances and cardinal directions written by them. most of the cities have been crossed off, not counting the three houses at the end of the dirt road, and a few other cities to the northeast, and one city to the northwest.
He re-pocketed the crude map and pulled the fishing vest the man wore over top of everything. The vest felt surprisingly heavy, so he checked its pockets, that's when he realized he had a couple spare magazines for a gun. He checked around the body but no gun was to be found, and unfortunately David didn't have much knowledge of guns, so he had no idea what gun his ammunition went to. the magazines were slightly curved, but not like that of the AK-47 mags he's seen in movies.
The sudden rustling of leaves caught him off guard and he quickly hid behind the back of a tent. The guards were rousting two others, shift change. One of the men settling for bed walked out past a tent a few meters to Davids left, to take a piss.
'oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit' was all he could think as the man relieved himself and turned, thankfully away from david and slowly walked back into camp.
Watching from his hiding spot, he noticed the man who relieved himself had a weapon that had the same magazines as the ones he carried, so safe bet that his gun shoots these bullets. David quietly waited for things to settle down, then he snuck his way over to the tent he saw watchman number two enter. Quietly after listening for several minutes, soft snoring met his ears. He slid his torso into the tent right next to the sleeping guard, and slowly slid the weapon out.
Now several hundred meters away from camp he felt more secure knowing he had a weapon and some basic gear. In the light of the moon he looked over the crude map again, and used his compass to vaguely navigate his way towards the uncrossed city, roughly two kilometers north northeast of his current location. Looks like those basic navigation classes from his early days of being a boy scout had paid off.
Two hours later, an exhausted, starving and dehydrated David laid eyes on the town just over the crest of the next hill. It was fairly sizable with several buildings. Upon his approach the sound of a growl caused him to freeze in his tracks. A man, obviously feral somehow charged at him, snarling. He didn't have any training so he merely put the gun between him and his attacker as they collided, and used all his strength to keep him from biting him.
The feral man was foaming at the mouth, and his eyes, well that's when David noticed that half of the mans head was missing... He pushed the beast off of him and ran for his life.
To his west, the silhouette of a truck and its dust cloud crested the horizon and made its way toward the city. Muzzle flashes dotted the rooftops of the buildings on the west edge of the city, some shooting at the truck, some shooting at each other. Pandemonium broke out as the rattle of gunfire wore on into the night. David, not sure of what to do, sprinted from the field he was in to the closest apartment complex, and decided to hold up there for the night. Little did he know this apartment would soon become his home.
*current day*
David stood from his spot and moved to the door to look through the peep hole. the glass was dirty and smudged but he could vaguely make out shapes moving in the sunlight that streamed in through the north door.
"Bandits" he muttered, stepping back from the door and arming the small explosive charge suspended just above it.
During his time in the city he had rigged his apartment complex with several booby traps. Screams rang out through the halls, there goes one now.
A couple bandits tried to help their friend pull his arm free of the soda machine. a can of soda luring him to reach into the tray to have a makeshift guillotine slice through most of his flesh and shatter his forearm.
David, using their distraction to his advantage, slipped into the hallway using the door of the adjoining apartment and disappeared into the stairwell. He ascended one flight and moved down the hallway to where he had cut a crude trapdoor in the floor. The bandits looked up and the sound of movement to be greeted by the barrel of an M4. Twin flashes and the thumps of two bodies told the trapped man that his friends were dead, he didn't dare look up.
Another thump told him someone was now standing next to him, forcing him to see who it was. His eyes met those of a grizzled man, hair pointing this way and that, matted in a few spots, dirt caked his skin. His clothes disheveled and full of bullet holes, exposing the plated armor he wore underneath. He couldn't break the gaze of the survivor, that glare instilling more fear than any he had ever known.
Suddenly without warning, the man stripped him of his weapons and ammo, and released his arm from the trap while dropping a belt on the ground. Instantly the man knew what to do. He took the belt and cinched it around his arm, slowing and eventually stopping the blood flow from his wound. Once it was secure a sharp pain rose in the back of his head and he saw black.
David deposited the unconscious man a kilometer from the town, and drove his rickety truck back into town, stashing it once more inside a rundown garage. Today however wasn't his lucky day. A snap was heard followed by a large caliber rifle discharging. He broke into a dead run, straight for the trees keeping the buildings between him and where he thought the shot came from.
While sprinting through the woods he heard the sound of several of the walkers trailing him through the leaves. To think he had survived this long, fashioning his own makeshift traps, weapons, clothes, equipment, to be done in by the damn walkers because someone with a rifle decided they were a better shot than him?
He took stock of his gear while on the run. His M4, slightly worn but operational. Three magazines, two fully loaded, one containing thirteen rounds. His Sidearm, an M1911 containing one magazine, with five rounds remaining. a damaged M67 frag grenade he pulled off a dead soldier he found at a military checkpoint. A canteen of water, and an MRE (meal ready to eat) He didn't have time to grab his ruck either so a lot of his essential survival gear was left behind, other than the compass, pen, crudely drawn map, and a more refined map he had in his tactical vests pockets.
Suddenly the ground was rushing up to meet him, while checking his gear he hadn't seen the fallen tree, nor the ravine right on the other side. He tumbled town the side of the hill into a cave, what luck. he rolled deeper into the cave, splashing through a few puddles and smacked his head off something, causing his vision to dim as he fought to stay awake. The noises of the zombies could be heard in the distance.
Unsure of what time it was, or how long he had been out for, David got to his feet and staggered in the direction that he felt was up and out. Emerging in the dead of night told him he was down here for a while. The land felt different though. He slowly walked up the hill to assess where he was at and get his bearings but couldn't see anything but trees for Kilometers around.
The noise of the woods sounded different all together. Gone were the sounds of familiar birds. Instead there was a hushed silence all around. it was very eerie. Quietly David climbed the sturdiest tree he could find, but his vantage point didn't help him at all. All he could see was more trees. NO WAIT. David could see a castles ruins upon the hill in the distance, he had an objective.
He silently made his way toward the castle. After about an hour of nearly being lost in the woods, he came to a rope bridge. It looked like it was ancient, yet recently used, so he assumed it could be trusted with his weight. It proved right as he reached the other side and approached the exterior of the castle, whose peaks and towers were in near decrepit states.
Approaching the closest door he pressed it inward. It swung on noisy damaged hinges, revealing a stone interior that was crumbling to dust. in the center of the room sat a large monument of sorts. it was a Sphere on a pedestal, surrounded by six arms, that looked like they once held something, but were recently, or as far as this castle is concerned recently, taken.
