Entry 4 – date unknown – evening of day 3

I’m getting tired of playing the delivery boy, yet there is nothing I can do about it. For every bit of information I get I have to spend entire hours in the wilds, putting my life on the line. It might be fate, but I feel as if I’m being forced down a railroad with only symbolic choices put before me. I also noticed that even though I’m by far not the only stalker in the Zone, I seem to be the only one doing something. The rest of the guys just roam around their favorite spot, never even trying to go somewhere else. Perhaps it is the radiation that’s doing this to them…
 

My health seems to be suffering as well – I do my best to eat at regular intervals and I’ve so far managed to keep my radiation levels down with the help of vodka and anti-rad meds, but I passed out when in the lab. I had some flashes of what I can only guess are my memories before I hit the ground, but there was nothing in there that I could use in my situation.

I laugh now at my early attempts to use weapons. I was looking at the whole thing from the wrong perspective. It wasn’t me that was bad with the pistol; it was the pistol that sucked. The machine gun I picked up from a dead soldier is proving to be very effective at killing humans and mutants alike and with the scope I installed on it I have so far managed to wipe out entire camps without taking a single hit.

*several pages missing*





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