Note: the events portrayed are taken directly from real experiences in DayZ.

I woke up on the coast, with a Makarov in hand and the city of Chernogorsk to the west. How did I get here? “Must’ve been one hell of a party last night,” I thought to myself. My pockets were half filled ammo and medical supplies. “Yeah, quite a party.” The sun was low and the sky was blue, and in my best judgment I decided it was on the morning side of the day and a better time than any to get on the move. To where? For what? With whom? And how? I didn’t know. I didn’t care much. Although I definitely didn’t mind the thought of coming across some more beans. Mmm. Beans.


The road to Cherno’ was lined with wrecked cars but otherwise clear. After several months of “forgetting” to exercise, the first kilometer or two were brutal. The next, even more so. Coming up behind the nearest tree line was a collection of small buildings. “Maybe some beans in there,” I silently hoped. I crawled through a hole in the fence to the closest, largest house, but unsurprisingly, it was locked. A few dozen meters away was a visibly open concrete building, maybe seven or eight feet wide.


And then a sound. A low growl, seeming to come from the throat. It wasn’t aggressive, but it wasn’t human. It sounded animalistic, as if the life from the voice was taken away and replaced with primal instincts. “That must be Dave,” I knew the second it registered. “If I was blacked out all the way from Cherno’ to here, I can’t believe Dave is even surviving his hangover.” I approached him from a few meters behind as he shambled forward. Something I did must have startled him. His head snapped back, followed by his body, facing me, as if calculating the situation. “Alright, definitely not Dave,” I finally realized. “Dave couldn’t calculate s**t.”


In the second after our eyes locked, the person had taken a step forward, and I found my gun raised and pointed in his direction. He sprinted at me, his growls becoming hostile, and after two shots to the chest, he was down. My hand hurt from the recoil. I wanted beans. I had killed a man. There were probably still beans in that building.


I approached the body slowly. His skin was pale and he was covered in blood, much more than had come from the bullet wounds. This was not human. It was probably one of those zombie things that were supposed to be around, that would explain it. Or it could’ve been one of Dave’s friends. Either way, self-defense would hold up in court. If there was a court anymore.


And either way, there was still a building to check. After scanning the area for any other movement, I arched my leg in and pulled my body along.


There was a can. On the floor. A tin can. Not labeled. My eyes focused and my brows tensed. I took one step forward. It was open. And empty. The disappointment hit me like a great wave on a lonely, hung over post that wanted beans. “There’s nothing for me here.” I needed to keep moving.


As I ran along the coast, over a small hill, the harbors of Chernogorsk finally came into view. Across the road was another collection of buildings, and to my dismay but not surprise, three dark figures were shuffling between me and the town. My initial thoughts of “screw that” were overtaken by a familiar smell, seeming to come from an open barn to the north. A smell I knew was my calling. F**king beans, man.


I crouched down and made my way forward. The first zombie changed his path, startling me for a second, but sending him west and out of my way. The other two didn’t seem to be going anywhere. I approached a long wall to my left and dropped down to the ground. The barn was close, and though my elbows protested, I crawled past the second zombie. The third didn’t like this much and wanted to give me a stern talking to. Only a few meters left and I would be in the barn and out of his line of sight. I kept crawling, about as far from the entrance as the zombie was from me, moving at about the same speed. I was surprised it hadn’t noticed me already, but I was pushing my luck. Then he turned around. “Well that’s convenient”. I finally pulled myself back on me feet and entered, appreciating the shade. It seemed empty, at least of people, but with two wooden ledges on either side and some hay bales scattered around the floor. On the right side, in the corner, more empty cans. On the left, more cans.


But one of them caught my eye. There was some color to it, at least it appeared that way, not the unmarked tin or aluminum that I had seen before. Through closer inspection I knew. These were beans. I inspected them closer, and while I can’t recall exactly how, my mouth jumped in to help and then they were gone and I was finally satisfied. I checked the upper levels, more empty cans on the left, but a gun on the right. I didn’t know what it was, but it had one of those things you move with your hand that makes the bullets reload or whatever. And appropriately, there were some bullets beside it. Or shells, I don’t know. But whatever they were, making them go into a zombie’s head really fast would probably have pleasing results.


Back on the road, Cherno’ was easily in sight. Only ten or fifteen minutes and I would arrive, probably to find a large crowd of things wanting to kill me, but hey, at least I had goals. The break from running left me with enough energy for maybe twenty steps, and then I was back to wheezing and awkward power-shuffling.


A gunshot.


I dropped to the ground and crawled into the grass beside me. I looked around. The shot sounded relatively distant, but the impact was close. “What a Dick.” For all he knew I could’ve been handing out beans and porn. I’m sure he was deprived of one of those, or both, seeing how disgruntled he’d have to be to shoot at me like a Dick. I waited and kept searching for movement. I thought it might have come from the hills to the north, but wasn’t sure enough to look closely, and nothing caught my attention other than two zombies far to the west. I considered that Dick McPornlack might have been shooting at them, but again, the impact was close.


A couple minutes passed. I figured I could sit here and wait until either Dick found me or I died of hunger, or I could get up and risk his sexually famished wrath. So I got up. No bullets were flying at me, and for all I knew I wasn’t dead yet, so I kept moving, but stayed low to the ground and in the grass.


After a long and eventful journey, I had finally reached the east side of Chernogorsk. I went into a large, unfinished concrete building that seemed free of life. There were some bedrolls on the floor and more empty cans around, but nothing useful on any floors. Once I reached the roof, I examined the city and planned my route. I figured the only good reason to be here, since I hadn’t considered it earlier, would be to find supplies. The southern half of the city seemed to be more fruitful, with more open buildings and a supermarket somewhere in the center. I decided to stay north, making a line west toward large, industrial buildings, and once I was near the middle of the city, I would head south and west out the other side. And after that, if I survived, I’d improvise. The zombie population was obviously more dense, but I knew if I took my time I might have a good chance, unless I ran into another one of the McPornlacks, the sorry bunch. I was satisfied enough, picked up my big gun with the hand reloady thing, went back to ground level and headed out into the city.