Severed A.R.M.

As the dawn broke on November 1st, The remnant's of the Appalachian Resistance Movement watched from across the barrier that seperated West Virginia's known survivors, from the massing legions of undead confronting them. Whether drawn by the scent of life, or the sounds echoing from their defense of the theatre. The Dead legions neared well into the thousands. Cut off from any form of reinforcement. Haggard from the month long seige, and low on ammo, e surviving members of A.R.M. watched as the ghoul army staggered, and shambled in to the masses rear, building their forces by the dozens. The wall's of the complex have been weakened from the extended onslaught of death knocking.
We are the Appalachian Resistance Movement. Our defenses are crumbling, the Captain seems now to have accepted the desperation of our situation. There appears to be no chance for our holding off through the night. A small group of our defenders may make a break for it after dark, in hopes of reaching other survivors. Hear me now, as you read this. The Coal Fields have fallen. There is no safe haven left. If we make no more contact after tonight. You must avoid Southern West Virginia at all costs. Logan county is Lost. Pockets of limited resistance in Mingo county are all the contact we've managed. They have reported similar circumstances.

I repeat. Avoid West Virginia at all costs. There will be noone left to help you.


The Stranger
A.R.M.