It's been a few days since my last blog post, and I've had an eventful few days. The biters are traveling in groups now for some unknown reason. I can't quite put my finger on it. It's as if they're trying to keep each other warm in a sense. I didn't know the damned creatures could even "feel" anything, so I have no clue why they're traveling in packs like wild wolves. Anyhow, I've been defending my safehouse as best as I could. I had to even venture out a couple of times to slaughter a group of zeds by myself. On one occasion of night time defending, a small group of three survivors came through. Three guys. One of them looked army affiliated. They saw me fighting a small horde of walkers, and they joined in on the slaughter-fest. About ten minutes or so later we had finished our murderous job, and I invited them into my safehouse for a drink. I finally was able to get a good look at them in my safehouse while I was making their rum and cokes. The army affiliated one was bald and had a brown goatee. He was about my height, 5'6'', and looked pretty athletic. He fashioned a combat knife on his left hip, and toted an M16 carbine assault rifle. I later found out his name was Kenny Haskins. The second of the group was a bit overweight, and about six feet tall. He carried a shotgun. He had red hair, and a handlebar mustache. He looked like a biker from his attire. His name was simply "Tubs". The last of the three companions was tall and wiry. He had sandy blonder hair, and small reading glasses adorned his face. He carried a baseball bat. His name was Tyler. Didn't ever get a last name. Probably because he looked very startled about the surrounding death presented before him.
We drank a bit, and then we talked about everything we've been through. Private Haskins, Tubs, and Tyler were at a makeshift military base located close by on the outskirts of town. Apparently the base had been overrun by the undead, and they were the only three to make it out unscathed. After our talk, I let them stay at my safehouse for the night. In the morning, they decided to leave out. Apparently there was another military compound located in the next town over. I gave them some food supplies, and a water bottle each. They thanked me and took off. Great to see that there are still survivors around my little town here in Kentucky. Yay!
Oh, I found a radio at a local pawn shop down here! Stocked up on batteries for it, too. I plan on trying to listen in for some music to help me get through each day. I also plan on finding a CB radio or some type of walkie talkie. Maybe I'll be able to call out and find more survivors. Then, that got me to thinking about what my CB handle would be. I was thinking "Sticky" because of the sticky situation I'm in. haha
Also, I was bitten. I believe I might be turning into a zombie. This fever is gettng....okay. APRIL FOOLS! I'm fine. haha
Well, I'm going to get off of here, and try to get some sleep. Gotta get more gas tomorrow for my generator. Talk to you guys later!
Question of the Day: What would your CB radio handle be?