In no way do I own anything in regards to HOTD or any related IPs.

Heavily inspired by the S.T.A.L.K.E.R game franchise.

Zone Of The Dead

Prologue: The Japan Dead Zone

In the five years that followed after the initial zombie epidemic of 2012 that brought the world to its knees emerged, the world as we know it has changed irreversibly. Every nation across the planet has long since gone silent. The human population of the planet has been brought down to a mere 5% of its former number, all scattered across the world. Of the 350 million people left, a scant 2 million remained in Japan, with the odd million or so dotted around the world, all facing similar plights.

Humanity has reverted to a primal, clan-like way of life. Groups of survivors who had survived the initial outbreak had banded together with other groups to form factions and secure territories. While not entirely negative, some of these factions are solely focused on banditry and their own survival with ruthless cruelty. Entrapment and slavery are common place amongst the bandit factions, as is pillaging smaller factions, capturing men to work them to death, training children to become their next generation of raiders, and women to increase their numbers. The bandit factions are in a constant state of warfare with each other and factions trying to enforce order.

Other factions take it upon themselves to be exterminators of the undead and as military police for small settlements. However, these factions are not without their problems. They have strained relations with the settled survivors who make up the populations of the settlements and the Loners who pass through. The people they protect dislike the strict laws and curfews, as well as the draconian punishments for disobedience, though severe breaches of their laws aren't enacted too often. The Loners who wander Japan on their lonesome are met with distrust, made to holster their weapons at the gate, then watched at gunpoint until they leave.

For most that actively live, fight and operate in the Dead Lands, the majority of open Japan, the undead are now just a part of life. The most seasoned soldiers, bandits and Loners feel no fear of them, seeing them as part of the scenery or an annoyance at most. However, these veterans are rare these days, as many were around from the beginning of the epidemic, and thus have died more than the more cautious, or even cowardly survivors. The majority of these experienced survivors are Loners, with some being faction leaders.

The JSDF had abandoned all notions of saving people three years after the outbreak, and retreated to their bases and holed up in their fortresses. Units of the JSDF patrol Tokyo or now known as The Rot, a massive necropolis of un-life only kept in check by the soldiers at Camp Asaka. Many Loners who have ventured there for supplies, loot, ammunition, and weapons never returned. Too experienced and too smart to fall prey to the undead, many suggest the JSDF remnants or a large bandit faction in the area are responsible for the disappearances.

The Nuclear power plants across the world had gone into meltdown for various reasons. Some due to neglect, some to poor maintenance even before the outbreak, others to natural disasters, and skirmishes between factions. The undead wondering about in these facilities didn't help either, as some would get themselves chewed up by turbines and other machinery, hurrying the degradation of the power stations. Most notably, Fukushima's already tenuous condition made itself known when Loners reported the station melting down in the autumn of 2015, 3 years after the outbreak. A 20 kilometre exclusion zone was unofficially imposed around the Fukushima prefecture by both the Loners and the JSDF. Though it isn't policed, people are warned against entering as the creatures and undead there had later began mutating, the undead more so than the native creatures. However, no one is quite sure how the undead have mutated as no one who has entered the Fukushima exclusion zone have left. Through careful, distanced observation by field agents of the remnants of the Ministry of the Environment, the factions and Loners as well as settlement communities have been made aware of the strange mutations in the Fukushima prefecture, though they stated that more mutations are yet to be seen.

Now only a field of razor wire and land mines separates the Dead Lands of Japan from the irradiated exclusion zone of Fukushima prefecture. A single checkpoint is manned for entry and exit, though Loners or bandits entering is all the checkpoint has seen.

Through ingenuity and a lot of work, the electrical grid that was knocked out several days after the outbreak via EMP was somewhat restored. Isolated areas where settlements and occupied military bases had their power restored by engineers and electricians that had survived. Plumbing and sewage disposal has been limited, but through knowledge of water purification, waste disposal, and germ spread, these same settlements and bases have become fully functioning towns and fortresses, though these small towns only make up several city blocks or a single city block depending on the location and population.

Though they are often given little thought, perhaps how they prefer it, the Loners who roam the Dead Lands have lent helping hands to all factions, as they are not bound by a single morality or goal. They are simply exceptional survivors who go their own way. As such, they have gained a mystique that has people talking in whispers when word arrives a Loner is nearby or passing through a settlement. All Loners are met with different reactions dependant on their actions. Some are met with suspicion, some with outright hostility, others with praise and a free drink. Though one thing remains the same, they are viewed as something greater than everyone else. They defy the odds against them in the Dead Lands, whether it's the undead, the JSDF, bandits, other factions, the weather, even other Loners.

Some Loners have come together over the years and set up rest stops for other Loners in hangars, subway tunnels, car parks, sports stadiums, factories, and bridges. These places are rather safe and rarely have trouble with bandits or invading factions as a group of Loners is seen as something to never tangle with.

Now, winter has settled in, the wasteland of post apocalyptic Japan lies frostbitten and deathly silent, with naught but the groans of the undead and distant gunfire disturbing the low howl of the icy wind.

Friday, November 14th, 2017

Akira Masaki

Outer Tokunosu City

The frigid wind bites at me, waking me from a light, broken sleep. I run my woollen-gloved hands down my face and sigh tiredly, my breath billowing upward as vapour in the cold, still air. I sit up out of my sleeping bag and look down at my wristwatch. The old, dinged watch reads 07:04am. Still dark out. Standing, I move to a makeshift rifle stand of a pool cue stand and a shoe box where my M4 carbine waits to be used. I'd long forgot about putting on the safety and removing the clip. The last thing I wanna do is get killed messing around with decidedly menial things. The only light in the room of the long evacuated apartment is a light bulb hooked up to a car battery. You do what you can I guess.

Empty food tins, military rations and water bottles are piled in the corner just under the broken window, some of them mine, some not. I pick up a large shard of a broken mirror from the surface of the dusty vanity and checked my face. I look like shit. My face is covered in dust and grime, a scraggly beard has consumed the lower half of my face like ivy on a wall. Large, dark bags under my eyes remind me of my almost permanent state of exhaustion, and my bloodshot eyes only compound it. My cheeks are gaunt and my skin has gone pale. Shit, tired and sick. My hair, once short, spiky and fitting for a high-schooler, is now long and messy. Well, when surviving for five years since the world went to shit, you have to look the part I suppose.

Over the past week and a half, my situation has been becoming dire. I'm almost all out of food, I'm rationing my last bottle of water, and I'm out of medicine, which I desperately need. My ammo stocks are alright though. When the shambling bastards that make up most of Japan are blind and rely on their hearing, you tend to be a bit hesitant to go in guns blazing. I had a few spare air filters for my gas mask, a Russian-made PMG gas mask I'd looted from an apartment that had apparently belonged to some kind of foreign collector. Probably one of my best hauls, as I'd found quite a bit of ammunition in there. No clue how he got that past customs, especially since guns were illegal to the public.

I checked my pack, a large woodland patterned rucksack and found everything in order. There are eight 30 round box magazines, all fully loaded, a rudimentary med-kit, five packaged military rations, a water bottle, a torch, a PDA, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and some regular alcohol to take the edge off.

I then check the pockets of my similarly patterned smock. Each pocket is full of various things; empty paracetamol boxes, hair pins, the odd 5.56 round, snack wrappers, a bag of bolts, and rolls of thread. Honestly, besides the bag of bolts I have no idea what some of it was doing in there.

Having taken stock, I'm set to get moving again. I wait another hour, and now dawn has broken. Looking outside, the entirety of the surrounding area is blanketed with snow and thick fog. I see the old tracks of Them and pass it off as nothing. Those rotting bastards are nothing special any more. To your average survivor who's holed up in one of the Bastions will still fear the Shufflers. Nah, the only real danger out here is the living. Carelessness will get you killed by one of the Biters, a human will hunt you down, kill you, and steal your shit with purpose and ruthless planning. Only your survival instinct and smarts will help you survive against another person out here. At this point, we're all killers.

I look down at my boots and question their reliability in the snow. They've served me well, being a pair of sturdy black military-style boots, and not one time have I felt them leak in the three years I've had them. I sneeze, taking myself by surprise. I'm gonna need to get that under control, lest the Shamblers hear me.

Once I got outside, the cold really hit me. Even through my smock, woollen pullover and vest, it still made me shiver. The work pants I wear do a decent job at keeping my legs warm though. As much as I would like to keep my hands as warm as possible, I needed my finger tips free for dexterity. Fucking fingerless gloves. My M4 is at the ready, being held firmly in my hands. The low howl of the wind and the crunching of snow under my boots are the only sounds out here. Even the groans of the Biters isn't there. It's the first time in a while I've been unnerved. I suppose it's only natural since coming back to where it all started for me. Nothing's changed since that day.

The Shufflers myself and others killed that day have gone skeletal, with bits of clothing, both civilian and student, clinging to their bones. Not even the rats and the birds wanted them. Everywhere I went, whether it was Osaka, Okoyama, Hiroshima, Kyoto, Nagoya, it all felt the same. But coming back to Tokunosu, it scares me.

This city is my childhood home. Well, was my childhood home. Where there were sidewalks full of people going about their business, meeting friends, running businesses, shopping, hanging out, there's now corpses, old blood stains, abandoned cars and derelict buildings. I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

'Come on, you're a 21 year old man not some lost kid, focus!'

I suddenly hear groaning close by. So this place isn't as empty as I thought. It still surprises me how long these things last. Sure are looking worse for ware though. They're definitely going skeletal, and a lot of them can barely walk as the tendons and ligaments in their legs have either started or completely rotted away. Now it's only a matter of time. I took the entrenching tool I looted from the same foreign collector's place from a clip on my hip and held it ready. I let the M4 hang from the makeshift strap around my shoulders and gently made my way towards the source of the groan. I press my back against the wall of a run-down convenience store and heard the groan again from around the corner. It sounds a little too… lively.

I peak around the corner and get a good look. It looks like a woman, fairly tall, long purple hair, and a sword. From the way they're walking, using the wall for support and holding their side, they're wounded. Unfortunately, I sneeze and the woman turns and is on me with frightening speed. Her sword glances just off the bladed edge of my E-tool. Shit, she might be wounded but god damn is she fast! She swings some more, a savage look in her eyes as she keeps trying to murder me. She's off balance, that much I can tell, but she's also clearly a master of her art.

''Dammit woman, stop attacking me!'' I shout, still defending myself with my E-tool.

Clearly she's not listening at all. I can see her left hand is stained crimson with blood, and it's steadily flowing from a bullet wound on her left side. Strange, I didn't hear a gunshot at any point this morning or last night.

''Must...f-find...'' she mutters raggedly, eyeing me the whole time. ''C-can't… mustn't…'' she swings violently again, but she's way off the mark and stumbles, falling past me and to the ground. Her sword clatters and her body lands with a rough thump. She struggles to get up, and shakily lifts herself with her sword.

''Listen to me, stop attacking me and I can help you.'' I say, imploring her to stop. Who am I kidding? I'm barely getting by on my own. I'm sick, I'm low on supplies, and I don't exactly know where I'm going. Putting the E-tool back on its clip, I cautiously stepped closer to the woman and hold my hands up as a sign of peace.

She glares at me fiercely with fiery dark blue eyes and I see her sword hand tighten around the hilt of her sword. She's awfully pale and tired-looking, no doubt from blood loss, but she's undoubtedly beautiful. Actually, she looks kinda familiar to me.

''What… do you want?'' she demands. Her body is still tense, but hey, at least she's stopped swinging that damned katana.

''Look, you're wounded, there are Biters around, and I'm sure there's bandits around here judging by that bullet wound. Besides, you are not at all dressed for this weather.'' I stop for a moment. ''You had to leave in a rush, didn't you.''

She nods, her shoulders becoming slack. ''Ambushed… separated… have to… find...'' she passes out momentarily and hits the wall of the convenience store, though still stays on her feet.

I soften my gaze. She clearly needs help, and I'd rather not have her on my conscience should I leave her here. Between frostbite, Them, and bandits, she's lucky I found her. I walk to her and take off my smock, putting it around her shoulders. I shiver at the sudden loss of a layer as the cold slightly gets through my black pullover. I look around to make sure there's nothing around us, only to find my action in vain as the fog was so dense, visibility was practically zero.

''Come on. If we don't get somewhere sheltered then your chances won't look too good.'' I say as I put her right left arm over my shoulders whilst being mindful of her sword. I'll need to dress her wound soon or she'll bleed out.

''You can walk alright?'' I ask as I help her stand from the wall. She winces and takes and uncertain step and I move in tandem. She nods, giving the go-ahead to start walking. I hold my M4 by the grip and lightly rest my finger on the trigger. It wasn't lost on me just how vulnerable I'd made myself out here, but I wasn't about to let this woman die. I'd built a reputation as a so called 'Loner' for being a neutral, but helpful wanderer of the Dead Lands. I'd helped other survivors, other Loners, some of the more lawful groups, and the occasional bandit, so I wasn't about to abandon someone when I didn't have to.

We get further down the snow-buried street and find that the area is still empty of both life and un-life. It's honestly weird. The only other place so quiet was Osaka, but that was down to the massive purges and quick abandonment of the place. None of Them or people were there when I last passed through. The only evidence of life ever being there was the corpses and the looted shops and homes. Everything else burned.

I keep glancing at her to see if she's still conscious, and she's really not looking good. Between blood loss and the cold, her presumably naturally pale skin is deathly white. Her eyes are glassy and her steps are becoming weaker, being little more than forced shuffles through the snow. I'm desperately looking around now, and spot an arrow spray painted in green, pointing towards a row of houses, each boarded up but with the furthest one away having the door slightly ajar. The door is similarly spray painted with an arrow pointing inward. A recent-looking corpse rests in the snow just beside the door with a large splat of blood and brain matter above them. Bandits?

I look at the woman again, now barely conscious and breathing shallowly. I have to take a chance. Recruiting more of my strength, I march us to the house and briefly examine the corpse before entering. It's a man, recently killed. The snow has barely covered his body and his blood is still fresh, though frozen to the wall. I stop just at the edge of the doorway and listen very closely. I wait, and wait, and wait. Nothing. Lightly kicking the door open, I peek around the corner and see a dully lit hallway, with the rest of the house being very dark. I take a breath and take us inside, closing the door behind us. Using the dim sunlight, bathing the hall in grey light, I sit the woman against the wall and take off my rucksack to search through it.

I dig out my torch, a solid aluminium construction, and switch it on, running a careful sweep of the place as I walk from the hallway and into the lounge. The place is in a bad state as debris and decay have overrun the room. The carpet is patchy with squishy beds of mould. Bullet casings, food packets, bottles, and old, bloody bandages litter the floor. The walls are peeling and marked with black mould. A fine layer of dust laminate the upturned table and the smashed television. This place wasn't clean, far from ideal for patching someone up, but it would have to do.

Back to the woman, I had dug out my med-kit and opened it up. Gauze, tweezers, plasters, painkillers, cotton buds and some antiseptic lay inside, as well as a couple of pairs of latex gloves. She seems to be a little more lucid since sitting down, enough that I could get some reaction out of her.

''You good with pain?'' I ask. She nods and takes her hand from the bullet wound.

''Get on with it.'' she says hoarsely. I grunt and carry on, taking the rubbing alcohol out of my bag, uncapping it and upturning it with a cotton bud, then dabbing and wiping the wound. She hisses and bites her bottom lip, but nods to me when I move my eyes to her face.

''How did you even end up like this?'' I ask as I go about my task.

''My group was… ambushed.'' she replies with a wince. ''We got back here recently, having come from Tokyo. Well, barely.'' I look at her inquisitively. Tokyo? Almost no one comes back from there. Aside from that, what were they even doing there? There's nothing there but Biters, bandits, and what's left of the JSDF. Well, except for….

''The only secure route to Fukushima is in Tokyo. You were heading there. Weren't you.'' I state gravely. Many Loners who went to Tokyo never returned, but the JSDF and bandits denied any involvement with the disappearances. Most Loners who went there were way too experienced to get themselves chowed on by some Shufflers. Bar chatter at many of the Loner stops I visited suggested that there was something at Fukushima of incredible value, or directly linked to Z-day.

''Yeah. We barely got out. A couple of us were injured pretty bad, so we came back here where we have a safe house. It was the best option since we know this place.'' she says. She hisses again as I extract a dented 9mm round.

''Hmm. Hit your rib. You're lucky, you'd have bleed out a lot faster if that had passed all the way through. If it were a hollow point you'd have been dead long before I found you.'' I said idly as I toss the bullet away. ''This where it all started for you?''

She nods. ''Pretty much. I was a third year when it happened. At the time I was the president of the Kendo club at Fujimi Academy.'' I chuckle and get a strange look from her. I swear if I was good with names I'd remember it. She looks so familiar to me but I just can't remember who she is.

''So we went to the same school? Wow, small world.'' I say with wide eyes. ''We were probably in the same class. 3-A and captain of the boxing club.'' The woman begins chuckling herself, but quickly stops as her wound causes her pain in doing so.

''No way, Akira Masaki! I'd have never have recognised you. You remember me right?'' she questions, her face pensive. Oh shit. This is awkward. I have no clue what her name is. Honestly back in school I was probably just focused on boxing and her chest. If I was, I can see why.

''Uhhhhhh...'' I stall dumbly. She merely shakes her head with an amused smile.

''Saeko Busujima.'' she clarifies, much to my embarrassment. I finish dressing her wound and take off my latex gloves, putting my woollen fingerless ones back on.

''Right, sorry about that. I was kinda bad with names even before everything went to shit.'' I say lightly, still embarrassed. My mood suddenly switches as I hear a thump against the door. I look at Saeko, wordlessly telling her to stay put. My hands grip my M4 and I move carefully towards the door and put my back against the adjacent wall. There's a small window on the other side of the door frame. Quickly I duck and step over to it and look out. Dammit, it's only translucent, so the best I'm getting is a silhouette. Oh well, good enough. The thump at the door is human, armed, and tall. So we've been found. By the looks of it, the person has a pump action shotgun going by its profile, so I'm at a disadvantage at such close quarters. Also I don't want to attract any of Them by firing my gun. I've searched far and wide, but I have yet to find a damned silencer. Scopes and sights are no problem though.

''You find something?'' I hear a voice. Fuck, there's more of them.

''Yeah, saw 'em go in here about 20 minutes ago. Some guy and a woman.'' he paused. ''Get that look off your face, we're here to kill 'em and loot 'em, none of you brand of 'fun'.''

''Look, I just wanna fuck something that's actually alive for a change, is that such a problem?'' Ew. Desperate times I guess. ''You try having to set up a heater and leave it for half an hour before it even starts to feel-''

''Shut the fuck up! You make it so hard not shooting you.'' Tell me about it. Okay, the sick fuck gets it first. I move back to Saeko.

''We gotta move.'' I state firmly. She nods and offers her arm whilst grabbing her sword. I take it and sling it over my shoulder to support her while she is still unsteady on her feet. I look for a back door and find it in the kitchen, where it opens up into a small but wide garden. I suddenly hear to two enter as their heavy footsteps on the laminated floor of the hallway reverberate out into the back yard.

Around us is a six foot wall, about as tall as myself. Dammit, Saeko's not climbing that quickly in her condition. Alright, so I'll have to use one of my little strategies for avoiding Them when I fire my gun. It's simple really, since they're solely reliant on sound, you just have to move fast from the last position you made the noise. People figured that out fairly quickly after Z-day, but many didn't. However, it doesn't work nearly as well with hordes since the sheer number of them will cut off your escape unless you're really lucky, resourceful, or can climb like a god damned spider monkey.

I look to Saeko, shivering but trying to keep it together, and then I made my choice. ''Saeko, go as far as you can to the wall behind the door way. I'll join you but stay quiet.'' She nods and moves as I do. She stays standing but presses her back to the wall, while I crouch at an angle to the doorway. I fumble in my pocket of a moment and pull out a large bolt with the nut still attached, and throw it. It bounces off of the door frame and into the house, rolling to a stop near the door way. My moment arrives.

Aiming down the iron sights of my rifle, one of the men's heads comes briefly into view, just far enough out and just long enough for me to take the shot. I pull the trigger and his head from one temple to the other explodes in a thick spray of blood and brains, the contents of his skull splashing the door frame and floor with a wet, meaty slap. He slumps forward bonelessly initially face-planting the snowy ground with his ass in the air, then his body falls to one side with a muffled thud. Stupid bastard, who picks up a bolt when it was clearly thrown from the direction of someone who's trying to kill you?

I make a note to loot his corpse of his clothing as it is thick and suited for the cold conditions. I feel like Saeko won't like it, but she strikes me as pragmatic and willing to endure discomfort for the sake of survival. I wait for the other one, but it's silent in the house. Where is he? I swear he entered at the same time as his dead friend. I've experienced this before. When someone is smart in a situation like this, they could be doing any number of things. If I'm correct, then his 'friend' was little more than a meat shield, and now he's fully aware of his prey being both armed and dangerous. To say I didn't expect something like this to happen when entering the house, that would be a lie. I've fallen obliviously into traps like this before, but this was a calculated risk. Just then, beyond the wall, I hear Them start to groan hungrily with their fetid vocal cords. Shit, shit, shit! Now my only way back out is through the house. I need to finish this quickly.

Just then, I hear a shotgun blast, and another. Oh no. I peek inside to see the man with the shotgun wrestling with a Biter, using his shotgun as a barrier between him and it. However, I have no idea how he could have been taken by surprise. There were none when I checked, unless… unless they were upstairs, somewhere I'd forgotten to check. I don't hesitate and act swiftly. I let my M4 hang and pull up my E-tool and the bladed shovel head folds out with a metallic snap. I rush in and mercilessly smash the tool against the bandit's head with a bony crack filling my ears as he drops to the floor convulsing and haemorrhaging. The Biter goes for me and I turn swinging, taking it's lower jaw off of its brittle joints. When it doesn't go down, I swing again, backhanding the swing and spitting it's skull, splashing the stairs with blackened ichor. It went down and stayed down, sprawled stiffly at the foot of the stairs.

I'm panting, but victorious. Quickly I scavenge what I can from the bandit; an H&K USP with 60 rounds of .40S&W, a lighter, a pack of cigarettes, and a bottle of Sake. The USP is a nice replacement for my old side arm that I had to trade. Cigarettes are a rare and expensive item nowadays, so they fetch a nice price in most settlements. However, his clothes would be far too big for Saeko as this guy was both taller and wider than me, around 6'4 easily. I go back to the first one I killed, finding his clothes were more suited to Saeko's build. I look around the corner and find her still dithering and nod to her.

''They're dealt with but the other-'' I'm cut off as I'm tackled from behind. Fuck, the big guy had been bitten! I desperately try to clamber to my feet, twisting my body to face him. He rears his head back and goes to bite down of my shin, but I quickly kick him in the jaw and go to stomping on his face. He leaps up and forces his full weight on me as blood and drool wet my cheek while I hold him at bay.

I quiet but piercing whistle cuts through the air and the Bandit Biter ceases all movement. His head slides from his neck and his forehead strikes mine. Both repulsed and in pain, I make a noise between a grunt and a squeal. I look up and see Saeko with a small grin on her face, all shivering gone from her body.

''Not quiet the victory cry I was expecting, but I won't tell anyone.'' she teases mockingly. I level a glare at her and stand, wiping Shuffler drool off of my face.

''Just grab your fucking clothes.'' I order flatly as I point at the smaller bandit's corpse. She merely laughs and goes about looting him. I look at the corpses and think, not for the first time, that these two were normal people once, in a different world to the one we live in today. I sigh.

'Such is life in The Zone.'

Hey guys! Now after playing S.T.A.L.K.E.R Lost Alpha, I figured that something like that and HOTD would actually work quite well if done in a certain way. So here's this. I don't really have much to say about this one. Well anyway, I'll update at some point, but I feel like I'll actually enjoy writing this one.

Remember to REVIEW, FAV, FOLLOW and all that good stuff. Later.