I met her through a haze. Strong well featured. My eyes still blurry from the morphine shot she had just thrust into my chest.
High on the hill I had stayed in the mountain on the hill between Cherno and Electro. My legs broken and my blood low. I had managed to build a fire in a secluded misty cliff and cook the meat of beasts to stay alive.
And so she had appeared and brought me back to life. Her this innocent young thing. But little did she know of the life she had brought back.
But in the cruel world of an infected zombie apocalypse trapped somewhere in rural Russia anything could happen.......
We watched together below from the hills above. Down below, I with binoculars could see the corpse of the young survivor I had just shot right before the chopper had passed over early and shot me. A zombie was crouched over him eating his brains.
I showed off to her by sniping every zombie in the area quickly with my old enfield. The sound of each shot seemed to echo nearly all the way to chernigrosk.
As the sun went down I led us down to the fields below by the sea and shot a cow and a goat.
That night we hid up high on the mountain and sat round a fire having steak and beans.
Who knows what she thought? But I was surely grateful .
The moon passed away behind some cloud and the wind blew in from the sea blowing out the last of the embers.
The night was pitch black and the wind blew tormented through the trees. But still there was somthing still and peaceful about it. Far above and away from the horrors of unimaginable apocalypse and survival.
To wander alone, to live like a tiger . To kill or be killed. Welcome to the Z.
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