Surviving 12

It’s been six months since the News stopped. I still check the radio, going from empty frequency to empty frequency. Once in a while I still get some military bands, one claiming that Washington D.C. is still in human hands. Sometimes, some lunatic would be on the air, screaming about the FILL IN THE BLANK retribution. God, Allah, name it. I’d finally gotten around to getting into all the bunkers. Other than the explosives bunker, which I finally realized was far from the others after walking to and from it. I discovered one other with weapons. In it were five crates, each holding 12 rifles apiece, filled with old style M-16 rifles. The big bonus was one CAR-15, which I took for my own. I still carry my AK, but rounds for it are getting scarce. I also discovered, oh, I don’t know, 500,000 rounds of ammo, all still weather proofed. Judging from the serial numbers on the rifles, they were likely laid down during Viet Nam. I made it a point to clean each of them carefully of the grease they were packed in, and then carefully re-wrapped them in oiled rags. I constantly patrol the fence, making sure it’s secure. I’ve chopped all the branches from any trees that were any danger of leaning over, so that’s been made secure. It’s tiring and to be honest, I’m fucking tired of being alone. There’s been more than one night when I thought about eating a bullet. Very few of the creatures have been around. Rather than letting the branches go to waste, I chopped them up and made stakes. I plan on making some tiger pits inside and outside the fence, the better to trap any of them. I’ve also left sticks with fire hardened points at various points along the fence. The other day, on a patrol, I found one creature, badly rotted, wearing a DEAD HEAD shirt. I laughed for nearly five minutes while the creature, one side of its face rubbed off as if it had been pressed against a giant sander, gone. The good eye was constantly up and the thing was so emaciated, I felt pity as I drove a stick in through the good eye, shoving it back until bone stopped it. The creature collapsed outside the fence and I left it there. Scavenging animals would take care of it. I still wanted some company and to get any, I was going to have to go out into the world. Starting to plan my excursion, I wondered if the former State Troopers were still running their despotic little town? Or had a wave of the creatures done them in? Could it be possible I am the last man alive? I surely hoped not.