Tribute to DayZ

It seemed like i’d spent days in the water, after jumping the rail from my ship, the infected were everywhere and I had no other options, scrambling onto the beach I lay panting on the shore, thankful for being alive but starting to feel the cold wind starting to bite. Off in the distance the sound of a shot gun tells me all I need to know, the infected are here. Picking myself up, I throw my arms around me, shivering, looking around I can see a house about a hundred yards to my right, just off the shoreline, keeping low, not wanting to be seen, I creep closer, very aware that the t-shirt and jeans I’m wearing are inappropriate for the late autumn weather, thankfully its not raining. Stopping just outside the gate of the one story fisherman’s house I listen, the only sound the birds, opening the gate I wince as it gives a loud squeak and free swings out of my hand with a loud tang against the metal stop. No point waiting, I need to get indoors, even though as I just noticed half of the windows a broken, running forward I try the closed front door and to my relief its unlocked, opening it quietly my eyes instantly spot an old black woolen coat hanging on a hook to the right. Keeping it quiet and assuming from the broken windows, there’s no residents, I pick up the slightly musty coat and slip into it gratefully. Inside one of the pockets there’s an old army knife with attachments. Taking in my surroundings, I note I’m probably not the first visitor, the food cupboards by the cold old iron stove are all open, one hangs swinging from one hinge. Looking around I see a table and chairs and door leading to internal room presumably a bedroom. I open the bedroom door, and the unmistakable stench of something rotten hits me so quickly its closed. Just as I’m pondering my next move, I hear the pounding of soft shoes and a rasping of breath from outside, without thought I open the back door and run!!!

Rough First draft may return later to expand or edit, but may not.

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