The postman only moans twice...

A short time ago, I managed to get my hands on a wildly anticipated package.

A journey outside the A.R.M. safety zone, led my small group of survivor's to the remnant's of Mingo counties devastated landscape. A nigh stupid 40 mile journey across the lands of the living dead.
In the hopes of retrieving a small keepsake of these last day's. My promo pack.

To whichever member of the lost zombies org. That packaged it...
Thank you.
I realise the danger you faced in taking the time to make a run for the postal service line.
Whether facing the legion's of undead, or the massively overweight, lone survivor dressed in tattered postal clerk attire, who continuously rub's himself with last month's Vicky Secret catalogue.
You have provided hope to the survivor's in Southern WV. We will be heading out tonight, to face the dead army. Each of us will carry a card, We will place the rest in conspicuous locale's about the ghoul infested city. Even if we fall, we now know for certain, that if we do not survive, our brethren will fight the good fight, and ensure our final walk will be a short one....

Survivor's...... we face a common enemy, with our brother's and sister's. We shall not stumble, we shall not falter. We will prevail. Never forget. If you kill the brain, you kill the ghoul

Stranger
Trail of the Dead