Taking the safer, more circuitous route through the woods requires a multi-night effort by foot, and 'safety' is a relative concept. Just getting to the meetup point is grueling. In such a state, it could take me a few days of play just to collect enough equipment to survive once more on my own I don't have that kind of time. I'm also haunted by the memories of my second life’s final moments, trapped alone in a barn by a pack of zombies-legs broken, unable to move, quickly devoured. Death means no pistol, no hatchet, no food. If all else fails, I have a single M67 defensive grenade.ĭeath at this point would force me back to one of the spawn points on the beach, supplied with nothing more than a single bandage and a flashlight. Hopefully I would burn through the six 30-round magazines of 5.45mm ammunition for my AK-74 before it comes to that. If I run into trouble, either human or Zed, two morphine injectors can get me back on my feet while the painkillers keep shock at bay. In those two weeks, I've stocked my ALICE pack with everything needed to survive the game's harsh environment for days without having to take the time to hunt and cook: two cans of beans, a hunk of wild boar meat, and three full canteens of water. I'm two weeks into my third life in DayZ, a zombie-infused mod for modern military shooter ArmA II that now has over 500,000 players despite still being in alpha. I have never been in those woods, but they're just north of my rendezvous point and offer concealment the whole way to the meeting.

Instead, I decide to head due east, skirting along low stone walls for a kilometer and a half, and then move south towards the Black Forest. Here in Chernarus, those built-up areas will be filled with the walking Zed and criss-crossed by survivors scavenging for food and equipment. If I head straight to my objective, southeast from my current position, I will have to wade through two large towns. I check that he is still hidden from all angles, then open my in-game map. My avatar remains concealed, wedged under the bush where I left him.

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