I meet this guy named Trebor when I arrived a settlement in Colorado. He told me he had just lost his partner, and was looking for someone to watch his back. I didn’t know why at the time. I was coming in from North Dakota, and there hadn’t been much between me and here. Anyway, he gave this notebook. He said it would help to write things down. I found the first few pages filled, and asked him about it. He said it belonged to a good man named Haversman. I didn’t ask any further, I could see he was still shaken from the loss. Poor dude.
Anyway, I read the journal. Only one entry. I realized Colorado was not a safe place to be. Now, I know Colorado isn’t a safe place to be. Oh, and Haversman cussed. A lot.
I had found a pistol on my way down. I came through a town called Crystal Lake Resort, or something. Anyway, the convenience store was all barricaded, so I moved on. I found this shotgun just lying next to a car. Anyway, when I met up with Trebor, he gave me a reload for the shotgun and a mag for my pistol. I didn’t ask where it came from, and he was toting a shotgun as well. Folk at the settlement called my pistol a Jericho, and our shotguns were Mossbergs. I guess brand recognition helps, but I don’t know shit about guns.
Anyway, he was telling me about this area, down south, that was new territory for him. He had heard that there was food and guns to be found, so that’s where we were going. I noticed we went around Campos City. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell he was scared of the place.
On the way, he taught me about my Jericho. He told me how to turn the safety on and off, but I’m ashamed to say I wasn’t a quick learner. I accidentally shot him! It was a graze, but for a split second I saw him reach for his Mossberg. I bandaged him up and apologized. He told me I was going to take the lead, so I did.
We made it to this tunnel, and it was full of zombies. Turns out I’m a wicked shot with this gun, cuz I took on eleven zombies with twelve shots. Trebor got scratched up, and I got bashed in the back, but we made it through. He was blaming my gun for attracting them, but he watched me lay out three in a row. We cleared out a gas station, found another clip of 9mm, and head up this mountain where we found a farm.
Man, it was crazy. Zombies were coming from outta nowhere! Trebor even whipped out his shotgun and was blastin’ zeds. I emptied both my remaining clips. Turns out I had beginners luck in the tunnel, but I think I maintained a good hit ratio. We got pretty banged up, but Trebor had a medkit and plenty of bandages. Anyway, Trebor heard about this other safe settlement down the road a ways. We started to head there, as we wanted walls around us to catch some Z’s, and not the undead variety.
As we were nearing this tiny town, we heard someone shout behind us, asking if we were friendly. I guess that’s common in Colorado? Anyway, we pulled out our shotguns and he approached. I said something cool, like, “That’s close enough!” He gave us a three-sixty turn, showing us he was unarmed. He said his bud was holed up in some airfield and he was headed that way. Said his name was “War”. I didn’t ask why.
The three of us came to that tiny town and started moping up zombies. Trebor and I got real got with those hammers, though he had some practice by the look of it. Anyway, we gave War a helmet and a big ass backpack, since I already had them, and War had some dinky little backpack, like a school kid's or something. We cleared the town with him, and we told him where we were going. We thought we’d part ways, but he decided to head there with us. I guess he didn’t feel safe alone.
So, we started walking. Trebor always said to keep off the road. We were walking alongside side it and could see the road that we figured led to the settlement. Pop, pop, pop! Some jerk was shooting at us! We hit the deck like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t see my pals, but I ducked behind a bush and got the Mossberg out. The guy started shooting again, and I could see the flash from a tree across the street. I thought my Jericho would better the distance, but I remembered I had emptied it, like an idiot. I let of a few rounds from the Mossberg, but the damn thing had birdshot or something. I don’t know if I hit him or not. He stopped firing though. I thought we were in the clear but I kept my head down. Suddenly, the whole dang hillside was popping and I could see four separate muzzle flashes. These bandits ran in a pack. I could hear Trebor or War, or both, screaming in pain. Somebody yelled for us to run, and that’s what I did.
I booked it over our hill and ran til I couldn’t. I hide for a good long while, waiting. I heard something coming up. I shoved my shotgun in Trebor’s face, poor guy. He was bleeding all over. The bandits almost had gotten him. I helped him get moving and we made for the settlement as fast as we could. Word was the guards would protect us.
So, we were going up this hill when we finally saw the watchtowers. Trebor was so weak, we had to stop. We found a nice tree to hide under. Trebor and I wrapped him in bandages, after cleaning his wounds. Poor guy blacked out. I’m just sitting here, writing all this down, watching his back. He was right, it does calm the nerves.
I saw the look in his eyes when he saw me after the firefight. Even with my shotgun in his face, I couldn’t believe the relief on his face. I thought about Haversman, who ever he was. I wish he didn’t have to be dead for me to have such a good guy watching my back. It’s been a day, and I know Trebor has got my back through the thick. Lord knows I’ll need him down the road.
If you find this, my name is Gabriel Vecchi. Keep this journal. I hope to make many more entries, but if not, someone has to remember Haversman, and me. Don’t give up, there are good men out there, like Trebor. Good luck.
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