Duke took stock of his surroundings as the pre-dawn light peeked over the horizon. Ahead of him he could see a small military encampment, barbed wire all around with makeshift sniper posts at each of the four corners. During the night he’d heard the sounds of survivors and infected clashing and saw one poor bastard go down near a road flare. Having been a party to all the rumors on the ship he had a pretty good idea what was going on and he wanted no part of it.
Duke was the only American on-board, even though the ship's crew list looked like the United Nations. This suited Duke just fine as he avoided most of the other crew mates and did his own thing in his down time. He took that same attitude when landing on the beach. Around him he saw other survivors group up and head towards the town while Duke purposely avoided them, ignoring their calls and going the other way.
Survival was Duke’s guiding principle - for a long time he’d stopped living his life and just survived it. As an orphan with no subsequent family or children of his own, he travelled the world eking out an existence. He’d done good things and he’d done not so good things, but he felt that overall, he was a decent person. He had dealt with shit that would have broken a lesser man and he knew that if he wanted to survive this new world he would need some sort of a weapon. The camp in front of him looked like a very good chance of providing him with one.
Duke had nicknamed the infected ‘Zeds’, a trerm he’d read once and was short for the Z in Zombies. He wasn't sure if they were living or dead but he'd seen what they did to the living and that was zombie-like enough for him. The Zeds were all shuffling around inside the camp, trapped by the makeshift barbed wire fence. Outside there was no movement, just ruined cars and bodies that were long dead. Slowly he crawled on his belly towards a disused Humvee that was near the road. The shuffle of his elbows made a slight noise and he intently watched the Zeds for their reaction. Thankfully, there was none, and he safely made it to the Humvee. Looking inside he didn’t find anything of use.
Damn it, I have to go in. He looked over the camp. It had been abandoned long ago and sealed up, the main walkway entrance closed off with wire. But to the side he could see a gap in the barbed wire where there were sandbags instead, this must have been where the people who closed it down got out from. Crawling over to the sandbags, he listened out for the tell-tale groan of Zeds nearby. They were mercifully silent. He inched over the sandbags and into the camp.
There was a tent directly in front of him and he crawled over to it. Looking through the window he could see that there was no one inside. He made his way inside but couldn't find anything of use. All he found were some old army cots, disused medical supplies and other junk. The place had been cleaned out, any weapons or useful equipment removed, and only items too large to carry or with no value had been left behind. After an hour of crawling around the other tents, Duke found it was the same story with each of them. They’d cleaned the place out and his plan was officially a bust.
He was about to make his way out when he remembered the sniper posts, maybe they would have something. He didn’t like the idea of climbing up there and being exposed but he’d be stupid not to at least check them out. Checking that the area was clear, he crawled over to the first sniper post and began to climb up.
Inside he’d found the jackpot – if you were into recycling. Tin cans next to soda cans, although there was one still full can of Coke and some chemlights. He took both and began to walk down the ladder.
He froze at the bottom rung as there was one Zed right underneath the sniper post. Duke focused on the dried blood mixed with hair underneath the dead soldier's helmet as the Zed groaned and swayed, sensing he was there even though it had it’s back to Duke. He stood like a statue on the ladder and then slowly stepped down to the next rung. “Urggghhh,” the Zed responded and began to turn.
Run, he thought as the Zed saw him and lashed out, missing Duke by seconds, instead hitting the rung. The groan and Duke’s footsteps drew in the other Zeds and they all began to run towards him. Duke knew the tents would be no help and instead ran to the next sniper post that was on the short side of the camp rectangle. He hoped to hell they couldn’t climb ladders as he made his way up.
They had congregated down at the bottom of the sniper post and thankfully it seemed that ladders were too complicated for them. Instead they stood at the base of the ladder looking up, arms outstretched like evil versions of Oliver Twist wanting 'more'. It appeared to Duke their motor skills were too limited to climb, but now he was stuck.
He looked around this sniper post and at least found some more useful items. He took a hunting knife, a green smoke grenade and threw out one of the empty tin cans in frustration. Damn useless junk, he thought as he listened to it bounce along the concrete floor. One of the Zeds moved towards the can, lashing at it a couple of times and then returned back to the sniper post. They are attracted to sound, he thought as he threw the second tin can to test the theory. This time two Zeds went over to investigate where the can landed before returning to the sniper post.
Let’s see what they think of this little show, he thought as he pulled the pin on the smoke grenade and tossed it far away from him. It hit the ground and spun, spewing out green smoke with a loud hiss. The Zeds went batshit crazy and ran straight to the smoke grenade kicking and grabbing at it like pigeons fighting over the last scrap of bread.
Duke used this moment of distraction to climb down and check for weapons in the other two sniper posts. In the third sniper post he found a Makarov PM without any ammunition, it was a decent enough gun but Duke wanted something with more firepower, and if he was honest with himself, he didn’t trust any weapon that wasn’t American made. One last sniper post - one last chance, he thought as he climbed up the ladder.
As his head cleared the final rung, the rising sun glinted off the steel of an assault rifle resting against the far wall. She was a thing of beauty, an American made M16A2. This gun he knew, having fired off plenty of rounds when he was a teenager back in Oregon, and it was a great all-rounder. He scooped it, up along with the two magazines of STANAG rounds, and examined the gun. Without having fieldstripped it, he could see it was in good shape, but probably needed a good clean out. He also grabbed the empty water canteen and placed that in his patrol pack. Duke loaded a magazine and slung it over his shoulder before climbing down the ladder and crawling towards the nearby exit.
Once outside the camp he immediately ran for the nearest tree line wanting to get away from the camp and Zeds before more were drawn towards it. He followed the trees up the rise of the hill in order to get a better look around, wishing he had some form of binoculars so he could see in the distance.
Down the hill he could see a large town with a large industrial area and docklands. Although hard to make out at this distance, he could see the slow movement of more Zeds. The town looked like a good next stop - there were lots of buildings for him to look through and it would be easy to avoid the Zeds.
He looked over the town, planning some sort of route through it, when he heard the first shot fired. It sounded like a sniper rifle and the boom echoed off the hills behind him. Then he heard another shot, and a third - all coming from the same direction. “Fuck that. Shit is going down over there,” he exclaimed as he turned and ran up the hill away from the town.