Hello, my name is Robert. I was for some time a soldier in the Canadian forces, and my job didn't stop with the outbreak, the opposite actually, it truly picked up. I was there when the barricades collapsed in Kingston and the undead poured over the survivors like a tide of damnation. I barely escape the city with my life, making my way to my home only to find my father dead, and my brother missing, along with a note telling me that my mother's home was over run. I packed up some things and took the abandoned car out front of my house, and started north to find my girlfriend.
I ran into my girlfriend by some fluke, and we headed back to the nation's capital, and took refuge in her basement apartment. We've barricaded the windows and entrance, and we are taking in survivors, but I fear this place could very well become my tomb.
In these dark days I am reminded of something a friend told to me. He told me "We are in a Golden Age now, and sooner or later something will happen to tear this all away from us. We'll be left to survive once more." These words echo in my mind, reminding me that nothing is eternal.