Journal: First Day

[Roaven]

'The Jackal.' An arms dealer, considered extremely dangerous. Orders are to terminate. More or less, this is what my employers told me. My first day here in Africa. Caught up on my sleep on the plane, and waited about an hour for my taxi driver to show up. This place is falling apart, so I guess I should consider it lucky he showed up at all.

When I say this place is falling apart, I mean it. There are wildfires, people breaking the rules left and right, and armed militia everywhere. Foreigners, most of them. My driver gave me a pretty good tour of the place on the way to Pala. My luck got better though. I caught Malaria. Passed out in the taxi and woke up a little later in my room.

Someone was going through my stuff in the far corner of my inn room. My gun was there too, so I was pretty defenseless at the time. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be The Jackal. Took my gun and read my orders aloud, mockingly pointing is gun at himself when he read the sentence "Orders are to terminate." He proceeded to dismiss me as no longer being a threat, and stab a machete inches from my face. He quoted a book about human's need to discharge strength, tossed the handgun on the nightstand, and left.

If I had been able to summon the ability, I would have shot him right there, get it over with. But instead, I succumbed to the darkness tugging at my vision. When I woke, I was still ill, my vision tinted an eerie yellow. I grabbed my journal after a few slips, and slid off of the bed, turning to the door. There was gunfire in the background, and an explosion tore through the door, stopping a few meters from me. I pulled the machete from the wall and picked up the pistol, ready to fight.

I managed to scale the rubble in my doorway to get to the courtyard, where a body was laying across it. I glanced down and saw nothing interesting on the bottom floor, sweeping the area with my handgun and examining the body. There was a rifle, a G3 model, beside it. Grimacing, I took it and a single spare magazine, walking to the bottom floor and outside. The sun nearly blinded me at first, the Alliacne for Popular Resistance and the United Front for Liberation and something fighting openly.

Waiting for an opening, I sprinted across the street, feeling a sharp impact in my leg, but shrugging it off. A grenade detonated about 50 meters from me, showering me in shrapnel, none of which embedded itself in me luckily. I ducked through the hole it created in the metal wall, and sprinted for the bridge I had crossed on my way into the city.

I sighed in relief as I made it, leaning against the side, still weary from the encounter. The throbbing in my leg became more definite as the adrenaline wore off. My malaria flared up again, encompassing my vision and causing me to slowly lose consciousness. I felt the rifle slip from my grasp and my face against the metal of the bridge before my vision faded completely. I heard a car and a door slamming before I completely blacked out, slipping into unconsciousness.

[Ricamundo]

Nicely written, Roaven.

[PZ]

Excellent story Roaven, thanks for posting, and am looking forward to more like these.  We might need to develop an easy way to access journal entries, troublesome diamond posts, etc.

Welcome to farcry2maps!