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About this project
Survivor11 watched as Jonas knelt over a river, using a knife to shave his face. He did this every other day, like clockwork. “What’s the point?” Survivor wondered aloud. “The knife,” Jonas replied.
Ah yes. The dumb jokes. Wonderful.
Survivor ignored the joke and continued, “Why do you shave? It just takes up time. It would be easier to let it grow some.” Jonas replied, “It keeps me from losing my ever loving mind.” Survivor scoffed and inspected his weapon. It was painted gold. He really didn’t care what color the gun was, as long as it worked. Jonas wanted them to be “flashy” though.
“I never shave,” Survivor said. Jonas washed the blade off in the river and replied, “You don’t grow hair.” This was true. Something about... whatever happened in that lab... changed his genes so he couldn’t grow hair. One of the many curious mysteries about that lab that Survivor didn’t have the answers to, and doubted he ever would.
Jonas hefted his rifle and asked, “Where are we headed to today?” Survivor stood and said, “We will go back to the camp to pick up supplies, and then find a fast way to Sierra Blanca. I’m done letting the Coalition run circles around us.” Jonas shrugged as if to say, “Sounds good to me,” and the two began to walk towards the camp.
Jonas has expressed concern a few weeks prior that they were being followed by something. Survivor initially chalked this up as paranoia. They had ticked off some people in the past, but none of them would be vindictive enough to hunt them down. As of late however, Survivor11 had been getting a similar feelings. He couldn’t explain them, but they were there. He kept them buried, as to not distract him from their daily tasks.
However, that day would cause those feelings to boil over, and that day would begin a series of events that would return to haunt him for the rest of his days.