Chapter 2 – The Boy
They called him 'The Boy.' The nickname was apt as he was only fifteen. To get on the ship he lied about his age and although they may have suspected he wasn’t eighteen, they didn’t probe. This was his first job, his first outing and although big and strong for his age, he couldn’t hide his youth or innocence. The others joked with him, mocked him, some kidded that he might make a nice wife on those long journeys – at least he hoped they were kidding.
Even at shore they called him The Boy. At the seaside brothel they’d stopped at in the last port he was mocked by the crew. The girls were kinder, they called him cute and one grabbed his crotch. He remembered how hard that got him – how quickly his erection had come on. But he didn’t have enough money to pay and the others, his so called crewmates, wouldn't lend him any. When he asked about owing her or paying next time he was in port the girl laughed at him and suddenly the erection was gone.
Dejected, he left and walked the streets – in hindsight he was lucky not to have been robbed and murdered. Being a naive country boy, he wasn’t aware of the dangers that existed in a city late at night. He didn’t understand the perils of trusting people who would do him harm just for the paltry sum of money he carried. Even his plan for the ship was naive. He figured that he would travel on the ship until he found a country that was interesting and then he’d just jump off and stay. Oblivious to the need for things like visas and immigration clearance, The Boy thought the plan sounded reasonable – and what adventures he would have.
Those adventures seemed to be short lived as he huddled, cold and wet, on the shore of Chernarus. The First Officer had announced that they should jump and swim to shore and that’s just what he did. It had seemed close, but he wasn’t a very strong swimmer and the currents had pushed him down along the coast. After a while his arms became heavy and each stroke weighed them down further. He heard the waves crashing on the sand and he knew the beach was close. Pushing on, he swallowed water until actual waves formed, dunking him underneath the water with every crash. He knew then that he was close to the shore.
The sand scrubbed his baby smooth face as he was suddenly thrown on the shore. Coughing up sea water, he dragged himself further up the sand and flipped over, staring up at the sky. The sky was cloudless and the stars were bright – without any electrical lights or buildings to blanket them. It reminded him of home. He stared for a long while - as his breath slowed and his brain began to function again. There was the northern star. Using that and his watch, he could find north. Being a country boy had its advantages it seemed. His back was sore – something was digging into it. The patrol pack – he still had it on. They were designed to provide assistance in an emergency – everything he needed would be inside.
Greedily, The Boy opened his pack, certain he would find water, canned food, a compass and a map - all the survival essentials. Looking inside, all he found was a torch, painkillers and a bandage. How could anyone survive with this useless bunch of junk? Where was the gun? Or at least a hunting knife?
Lying in the sand he cursed his bad luck - what sadist decided this would be useful in a survival situation? Fortunately he was near a town, even though there were no lights on, he could see the shadows of tall buildings in the distance. All he needed to do was walk in that direction, and he had a torch, so it wasn’t like he was going to break a leg fumbling in the dark.
He rested for a while in the sand, double-checked his provisions and tested the torch. Waterproof - of course it was waterproof - this is a boat survival kit. Satisfied everything was in order, he rose and brushed the sand off his soggy clothes. Walking away from the beach, he listened to the sounds of crashing waves and his almost silent footsteps on soft grass. Not wanting to waste battery life, he kept the torch off as he made his way from the beach towards the buildings’ shadows. His footsteps changed sound as he arrived at something hard. Kneeling down, he patted the surface which felt like bitumen. He turned on the torch to be sure - he was right – he’d arrived at a road. Sweeping the road with his torch he saw an unused road flare which he grabbed. The road went north and south but north was where the buildings and …
“Urrrrrrrrr,” softly in the distance he heard the moan. It was faint and he wasn’t completely sure he’d heard it. He turned on the torch and shined it in the direction of the sound. “Hugrhuhhhhhhhhhhh,” the moaning was a little louder, definitely coming from up the road.
“Hello?” he called out.
“Ugurghhhhh,” the moaning sounded back. The Boy walked down the road calling out with the moaning response that came closer with each step. One of the crew must have washed up ahead and was hurt, he thought.
He could hear a sound – a scraping along the bitumen. He stopped walking so that the only sound was now the scraping. Looking down the road he saw a person crawling along the road. Oh shit he’s hurt really bad, The Boy thought as he rushed to the person, the light of the torch swinging wildly with every step. Looking down at the person on the road his first thought was that whoever he was, he was not from the ship. Then the smell hit him – rot and the decay of human flesh. Whatever had broken this poor person’s legs had turned gangrenous – just like the lame sheep they had to put down last year. The Boy looked around; there were no buildings or cars nearby. How long had this poor person been crawling along the road for help?
The injured man crawled closer and his face looked like it was caked in dried blood, especially around the mouth. But it was dark and even under the torchlight The Boy didn’t really believe it was blood, it was dark brown and could have been dirt. The man couldn’t speak, he just kept groaning and crawling towards the light.
The Boy stood looking around. There was nothing he could do for this poor man alone, but maybe with someone else helping, they could carry him to help. He waved the torch around but it wasn’t that bright, so people wouldn’t see it from far away. He dropped the still lit torch and the man crawled towards it grabbing it with both hands.
Then he remembered the flare he had just found. The Boy took it out of his patrol pack and looked it over. This was better; people would see this from far away. Stepping away from the crawling man to the middle of the road, he cracked the flare.
Suddenly the whole area was illuminated in a bright red light. He waved the flare over his head a couple of times before dropping it at his feet. That would get their attention. Proud of himself, he stepped back from the red flare and looked around for people.
Behind him he didn’t notice the injured man crawling towards him. Although technically he wasn’t crawling to The Boy as he was more interested in the red flare, The Boy was just between him and it. The Boy heard the man crawling towards him.
“It’s okay, help will be coming soon,” he said as even now in the distance he could see shadows running towards them. He felt the man grab his leg as he watched the shadows run towards him, it looked like three men had seen his flare.
The grip around his ankle tightened and then without warning he was suddenly experiencing pain. He looked down to see that the man had bitten him - like a rabid dog. Instinctively he kicked the man off his leg and stepped back. But the man now had a taste for blood and was no longer interested in the flare as he crawled back towards The Boy.
The Boy called out to the running men, “hey this guy’s really sick. He just bit me so don’t go near him.” The running men had no intention of helping and they ran straight at The Boy, toppling him over. In the red light of the flare he could see their eyes were solely white, no pupils or iris within. And that was definitely blood on their chins and around their mouths.
They bit into him at his arm and stomach. He felt their hands tearing at his chest, pulling the flesh apart to get at the organs inside. The Boy remembered there was talk on the ship about an infection in Chernarus, but being new, nobody really spoke to him about it. On the ship they called him a noob and being a noob, he had to learn things for himself because no one would tell him. As he bled to death
with these three monsters ripping and gnawing at his flesh his last thought was of the lame sheep he had put down last year, how its soft brown eyes looked up at him as he swung the axe above his head.