Organ Trail: Director’s Cut
The date is June 27th, 2013.
It was Thunderbolt’s annual trip to E3. This year’s event had promised to be something truly spectacular as the unspoken promise of new console announcements laid ahead of us. There was Philip Morton, Editor, Sean Kelley and Calvin Kemph, Associate Editors, Barry Scott, the man himself, and I, Shane Ryan. The night before we’d caught up for some celebratory beers. Times were good. Then it happened.
First the news reports started. Soon the nation was swept with hordes of flesh eating undead. In the ensuing panic I was separated from the group, taking shelter as screams of the living surrounded me. Hope came in the form of a man named Clements who offered me the little food he had and a ride. With an educated guess of where my group may have holed up, we both took to the road in his ride. On the short journey there we managed to avoid becoming overrun with the walking dead. But these weren’t our only worries.
“One of the undead”First, as we drove, Clements managed to break his arm. I’d momentarily dazed off when this happened and no matter how hard I pressed he never revealed how it’d happened. Bravely he fought on and continued to take the wheel. Then dysentery hit. But still his constitution held strong, our destination in sight. I let out a sigh of relief. Things were looking up. Then Clements screamed and swerved to the side of the road. His arm was bleeding from a bit wound. Immediately, with a panic in my gut, I moved from the back of my seat and darted around, preparing to defend myself from some corpse that’d gone unnoticed on the back seat. There was nothing there.
As I write this the hunger further clouds my mind. How Clements was bit makes no logical sense. Yet it happened regardless. It was as if bad luck was personified. Taking a seat in the back of that car with us both. Striking out in the most evil of manners. It was left for me to ensure Clements didn’t turn into one of the undead. It was his last wish and, using his shotgun, ended what life of his remained.
Taking the car keys from his pocket, never looking up at what remained of his face, I took the car and its contents further on the road. Arriving back at the hotel I found my friends. We were reunited once again. A grave look still graced their faces, however, and they told me of news heard on an automatic radio broadcast. Soon the government would be unleashing a nuclear attack on the area in a bid to retain control.
“Early signs of psychosis”Running low on money, fuel and food, we took on a job offer from a friendly holdout we came across. If we cleared out some local bandits we’d be rewarded with enough food to last us the next trip of the journey. I drew the short straw. Taking shelter behind a convenient wall, a shootout began. Clements’ shotgun handled like crap but a clean shot had enough buck to take down any human. I lived to tell that tale. The same can’t be said for those bandits. Back at the town we traded some necessities with other survivors and drove on.
Continuing our journey, Sean was the first to fall ill with dysentery. We pulled up and rested until he’d recovered. This time cut further into our supplies. Things were getting grim, and Calvin had begun making annoying noises in the car out of frustration. Possibly early signs of psychosis. Then this damned car came to a grinding holt. The engine had given up the ghost. So here I am. Sat in this freezing car. Food is running out. Eventually one of us will need to head out and scavenge for scraps to repair engine with. Should you find this journal, know that we did the best we could in the face of overwhelming adversity…
The Men Who Wear Many Hats’ Organ Trail: Director’s Cut is an 8-bit retro inspired iOS adventure that does its utmost to inconvenience your survival; from missing food, an awkward shotgun, a car that constantly breaks down, sudden illness, and everything but the kitchen sink being thrown at you. Not to be taken seriously, it becomes comedic in how much abuse you’ll receive. Try to play it seriously and only anger and frustration awaits. It’s lovable in attitude for a short while but once you begin repeating cycles it soon runs out of fuel. Much like the car now abandoned on that highway.