To set the mood.
So I’m sitting in my creepy abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere on the edge of a road not far from the lab I spawned in brewing some mutagen form zombies I butchered earlier in the week when suddenly…
To the north you hear wump!
“Well that’s strange” I think to myself, telling the game to stop crafting so I can examine the source of this peculiar noise. I walk over to a window I’ve deboarded to let light into the room but put curtains on for safety reasons. (Don’t need any angry moose jumping through the window to assault me.) and upon opening the window I’m met with a rather unpleasant surprise.
A horde from the neighboring Mega-City One has decided to investigate the fart it heard. Just from my limited view from the window there’s at least 20 zombies, which probably means there’s a couple hundred that I can’t see. In a panic, I make matters worse and really (F)uck up my day. I slap F, draw my 12 Gauge Pistol (The Zip-Gun variety) from it’s holster and cap the brute outside the window.
Now, for those of you new to the game, the worst possible thing you can do when you’ve got wandering hordes turned on, is make a noise louder than a fart in a pillow. I just fired an unsuppressed shotgun. Now, small spoiler, this basically means I’ve alerted every zombie on the planet to my location. Let’s get back to my series of bad choices.
Now I’ve got a small cache of weapons, as well as about 12 gallons of clean water stored here that’d be difficult to replace. As well as almost a hundred reptile eggs, a few hundred gallons of bleach and ammonia that I painstakingly transported from my lab to this little cook-house/shelter in bum-fuck nowhere. This lizard-man is not about to lose his shit. So, with the horde descending on my cook-house I grab my guns, and the water and load it into my car. The car, a simple four door with no modifications to it, is nearly full, there isn’t enough room for the bleach, ammonia, zombie meat, and lizard eggs I’ve got waiting to flee. Which leaves me with two options:
Abandon the Lizard Mutagen materials, which we all know isn’t about to fucking happen.
or
Cook and Fight.
Having chosen option B, I grabbed an MP-5 I found in a lab, and all the 9mm ammo I had, boarded up the windows in my cook-room, and started a fire in the wood stove. I’ve got about five gallons of Mutagen to brew, 200 9mm rounds, and what I remember from my most recent run of the Rats mission in Payday 2.
about a hundred assorted re-dead undead later I’ve got an infected wound, two untreated wounds, less than 30% overall health, nothing but a pair of duffle bags on, and four and a half gallons of lizard mutagen. I scoop the chemistry set off the floor, grab the syringe from the counter, and make a run for the fucking car as a hulk cool-aid man’s his way through the north wall, causing the north side of my cook-house to collapse and the stove’s fire to be not so contained anymore.
Here’s to hoping I can escape and that my greed doesn’t end me.
