2 - 50 Shades of Greed

...The noise from the crash and the gunfight had drawn the attention of many of the infected. I grabbed what supplies I could, piled them into the SUV, and drove away...

The storm raged on as it had for the past twenty four hours. The rain poured down in heavy sheets, the lighting gave an eerie glow to the dark mountainous landscape, and the thunder rocked the earth like a small earthquake. This storm was not like a typical springtime storm. It sounded like an angelic army waging war against a league of demons. Despite the low visibility, I managed to find shelter in an old barn. It was even large enough to accommodate a comfortable fit for my SUV. I lit a small fire for warmth and light with some logs I found in the corner of the barn and some matches I already possessed. As the storm drudged on, I rummaged through the supplies I grabbed off of the bandits and the wrecked Humvee. I found a little food, water, some rifles and pistols, and ammunition. I also found a map among the Humvee supplies with strange markings. Another blinding flash of lightning illuminated the barn as a crack of thunder shook my shelter. I returned my gaze to the map. It appeared as though a certain small area of Chernarus was of particular interest to the owners of the Humvee, although, it didn't reveal why. My curiosity peaked at the mystery. Maybe there was a small camp or an outpost in this area with others. I figured they would like to know the fate of their people. Hopefully the storm will clear up throughout the night. As soon as the storm does clear up, the "place of interest" will be my next mission.

I am pleasantly awoken by the warmth of the sun piercing through the cracks in the barn walls. The air around me is cool, crisp, and refreshing to my skin. I had forgotten the beautiful sound of the birds chirping in the morning air. It almost made me forget about the outbreak that is upon us, that is, until I heard the growls and moans from a few of the infected outside the barn. I check to be sure that all of my new equipment is stowed away in the SUV before I embark on my quest. I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the SUV. My dark brown hair is oily to the touch and my light skin shows a light hint of a reddish brown from the mud and dried blood of the infected. I haven't showered or bathed in days. I imagine I smelled like the men's locker room after a long football game. I hop into the driver's seat and turn the ignition. The SUV fires up with a beautiful purr and I drive off to complete my new quest.

*She was a vision of beauty, sitting there across the table. Her dark brunette hair shimmered in the morning sun that poured through the dining room windows of our California home. Her deep blue eyes sparkled with a caring and a playfulness that made her an amazing doctor. She certainly knew how to wear blue jeans and a t-shirt as well. She was thumbing through our old wedding photo album. Wedding of Michael Howe and Abigail Briggs was the title. Wow, was it really fifteen years ago today that we were married? Many said we wouldn't last. Her inability to say no to a hurting individual or a friend in need and my stubborn, get-it-done attitude that we each fell in love with, was often our downfall. However, here we are. Our fifteenth anniversary. We were particularly excited. With her being a doctor and my owning an auto mechanic shop, we don't often have time for just the two of us. I kept peering over my newspaper at her and then averting my gaze as she tried to catch my stare. The article was just barely interesting enough to keep me from a full on stare. It was about a new development of a "Super Rabies" virus as the author called it. It was infecting animals on the tourist island of Taviana, particularly dogs, causing them to become more aggressive. Thus far, the situation was contained and being dealt with. It was one of those stories you read and forget a few minutes later.*

"Pull off to the side of the road, behind that power station checkpoint. It would probably be better to go on foot from here."
That statement startled me. My mind dwelled so deeply in a memory that I had almost forgotten about my passenger. Shortly after leaving my hideout in the barn, I came across a man, trapped in a car with the infected all around scraping and clawing, trying desperately to reach their next meal. I had grabbed a road flare from my SUV, lit it, and threw it off into the forest as bait. The ones that did not chase after the flare were easy enough to kill with a few quick chops of my machete. He thanked me for my assistance and introduced himself as Davis. We had a short conversation and he seemed alright, so I granted his request to join me on my journey.

I drove around to the far side of the power station and parked. We each grabbed a rifle from the SUV's gear. I was still hoping for a small camp in the area, but that didn’t mean they would take kindly to strangers. It’s always better to be prepared. We slowly and carefully crossed into the forest and made our way up the hill to our destination. We hit the top and peered into the area. It was abandoned. One house painted in a dingy white sat before us. Behind the house was an old barn that appeared as though it would collapse under it’s own weight. To the right of the house lay a small shed that was already in the process of falling apart as one of the walls had already broken apart. The area was fenced in with wood planks and completed by a metal gate on the left side. The back fence had fallen over outwards as if something had burst through. As we converged on the gate, the smell of death was in the air. We discovered the body of a man laying there inside the opened gate, torn apart by the infected, leaving the most putrid smell. I’m surprised anything was left at all after the storm. He appeared to have been shot multiple times. Dozens of empty bullet casings spread out around him as if there were a firefight here at some point. The small holes in the wood plank fence and the side of the house confirmed my theory. Davis and I began a meticulous search of the grounds starting with the house and shed. These were empty with nothing of use left behind. We then concentrated our focus on the barn. We wheeled the door to the side. We couldn’t believe our eyes. Weapons and ammo laid strewn about the floor of the barn. Crates stocked full of food and water littered the corner along with containers filled with gold and drugs. Another two bodies laid in the middle of the barn, shot through their chests. They bared the same clothing and markings as the bandits I killed just a day or so ago.  We started to search through our findings. While Davis gathered the weapons and ammunition, I rifled through a folder I found. The documents seemed to be written in code, with instructions, plans, and seemingly negotiation terms. My mind filled with questions. What is the importance of this barn? Who is it important to? Did it belong to the Humvee drivers or the bandits? If it belongs to the Humvee drivers, are there more of them? Are there more bandits? My deep thinking was interrupted by the words of my acquaintance.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” he said.
Puzzled, I turned around just in time to see Davis swinging the butt of his M16 at my head. It connected hard with a sickening thud. I stumbled backwards trying to regain my footing. My mind fully intended to return upright and fight back but my body had other intentions. I awkwardly staggered to my knees. I could feel my mind losing it’s grip on consciousness. The world then snapped to darkness.