It’s a teeny bit dark. Actually scratch that – it’s pitch fucking black and I can’t see a hand in front of my face, let alone the shoreline just a few short metres away. I can hear the waves lapping, and I have a few remaining flares. I drop one to get my bearings, knowing the risk.
It pops and hisses on the ground in front of me, throwing silhouettes across the nightscape like so many flickering ghosts. I’ve been moving along the coastline for a while now and in the dim light I can make out the outline of a large crane, and what looks like the outskirts of a town. I’m about to move on when ‘Friendly approaching flare at beach’ appears in the chat text. I freeze. Out of the darkness looms another survivor – as poorly equipped as me by the looks of it, wielding the default and rather weedy pistol.
I’ve only been playing for an hour or so but I know if I’m to have any hope of surviving, I need to find a group. Entering a town alone is suicide, pure and simple. This guy doesn’t have the Bandit skin, he’s not marked for killing players yet. Maybe he’ll have something to barter… I have a spare tin of beans, but in this darkness, my flares are not for trade. Hoping for the best, I reply ‘friendly’ and try to nod – in my shock, I’ve forgotten the salute key.
There are two short pops as he kills me, one almost certainly a headshot. I swear repeatedly – this is the first time I’ve been killed by another player. But no Bandit skin… maybe I was his first blood. He saw the opportunity, and took it. Given different circumstances, I can’t honestly say I’d have taken the nobler path. Praying that he chokes to death on my now-looted food, I respawn at the start point. This time I head into the forest, darkness be damned.
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