If you've already made it far enough that you're out of bullets and surrounded by zombies, now is hardly the time to just give up. I'd spend the last bullet on the ghoul closest too me then use my gun as a hammer if need be.
George W. Bush is widely considered the worst president in American history. His formerly leftist political leanings aside right now, Thomas Luke was desperately thankful that Georgey had let the ban on assault weapons expire. The 16th casing spun out of the receiver of his Sig Sauer 556, and if its firer had cared to pay attention he would have noted the think trail of smoke still wafting from it's neck, held in place by the damp, chill air of the Maine dawn. Luke's ears rang slightly as the…See More
H&K P30. Quality and reliability of any Heckler and Koch, in my experience it's dead accurate, comes with night sights and fires the plentiful 9mmx19 round. The recoil is definitely manageable, plus it's quiet enough that your ears…
A clap of thunder that shook the lonely farmhouse down to its weathered foundation jolted the man out of his uneasy sleep. He sat bolt upright in his increasingly tattered Coleman sleeping bag, the half unzipped flap of which let the chill air creep in but allowed for fast mobility in case of a disturbance such as the current one. Blinking in the dark, dust-smelling air, he looked around, heard the din of the downpour on the neglected shingles, and eased his hand from the grip of the Glock 23…See More
I just threw my TV out of my third floor window Jimmy Moon style. As hard as he ever rocked, I doubt he deep-sixed anything to bust the skull of his newly reanimated landlord. The grouchy bastard is now lying in a pool of his caved head contents sprinkled with shattered bits of glass and plastic. It was time to upgrade to the plasma anyway. I rack the slide of my trusty HK 45 compact and shove it in my shoulder holster. My plan is to make for my grandfather's cabin in the Ontario wilderness.…See More
George W. Bush is widely considered the worst president in American history. His formerly leftist political leanings aside right now, Thomas Luke was desperately thankful that Georgey had let the ban on assault weapons expire. The 16th casing spun out of the receiver of his Sig Sauer 556, and if its firer had cared to pay attention he would have noted the think trail of smoke still wafting from it's neck, held in place by the damp, chill air of the Maine dawn. Luke's ears rang slightly as the… Continue
A clap of thunder that shook the lonely farmhouse down to its weathered foundation jolted the man out of his uneasy sleep. He sat bolt upright in his increasingly tattered Coleman sleeping bag, the half unzipped flap of which let the chill air creep in but allowed for fast mobility in case of a disturbance such as the current one. Blinking in the dark, dust-smelling air, he looked around, heard the din of the downpour on the neglected shingles, and eased his hand from the grip of the Glock 23… Continue
I just threw my TV out of my third floor window Jimmy Moon style. As hard as he ever rocked, I doubt he deep-sixed anything to bust the skull of his newly reanimated landlord. The grouchy bastard is now lying in a pool of his caved head contents sprinkled with shattered bits of glass and plastic. It was time to upgrade to the plasma anyway. I rack the slide of my trusty HK 45 compact and shove it in my shoulder holster. My plan is to make for my grandfather's cabin in the Ontario wilderness.… Continue