the store tomorrow.
-Adrian
October 13 th
The best laid plans of mice and men right? I hate my fucking life.
Alright so the maintenance dump truck I grabbed started fine, no problem. I gathered up my gas cans, the Sig, the shotgun, and my short sword. It’s the smallest high quality sword I own, and if possible, I would rather use that first. However, driving with a sword sheathed on your hip is really awkward. I totally can see why a cop would take a nightstick off their belt when driving. I wound up just tossing it on the seat beside me.
So I was up early to get down there. About 8am. I’m pretty fortunate in that my girlfriend bought me one of those self winding watches that always stay running as long as you’re moving. You know I bet there are a shitload of these watches that are gonna run forever on the arms of zombies. How weird is that?
So I grabbed a good sized bite to eat (frozen bagel with jelly, can of beans, and two glasses of OJ from concentrate) and set off down the road to the gas station. The campus is pretty high in altitude relative to the valley we’re situated next to. We’re almost on a plateau really. What that means is our road (well, I guess it’s just MY road now) is pretty steep going downhill, and has a few ups and downs. The truck made it about two miles before it started hiccupping and coughing, and came to a halt. I pulled over after the power steering died (which if you’ve never done it is a pretty herculean task)
Turned the key off, tried to start it, and it tried real hard, but just sputtered and died. Lather, rinse, repeat a few times, and still a dead truck. So I had to make a decision, walk back and scrap the trip? Or walk back, get truck #1, and do it with that one. I’d be missing out on a lot of fuel doing that way, but at the very least it’d be a recon mission. I decided to do that. I got out into the cold morning air and immediately felt some burning fury and frustration. This shit always seems to happen to me. Always the crap that should NEVER go wrong, goes wrong. I should’ve expected this shit.
I started a slow jog. I had 2 miles, mostly uphill, and I didn’t want to gas out on this unnecessary and unexpected jog. I paced myself, and everything was fine until I got to the nice cape home that’s about a half mile from campus. It was on the right side of the road, set back about 50 feet with a long, curved driveway. It had lovely crème color siding and a very nice veranda connecting the garage to the main house. It also had two zombies meandering in the yard , one in the wilting center flower garden, and one right in front of the garage. I only noticed them because I happened to stop jogging right next to the house and glanced absently sideways. Had I not stopped, I would’ve jogged right past them. Well they sure as shit noticed me. When I finally took them in, they were both shuffling with their stiff, clumsy walk at me, arms sweeping, feet dragging.
My cursory examination of them pegged them as a couple. Probably the snooty people who owned this 300k house here in the hills. The guy had a sweater vest for Christ’s sake. In can only imagine the prick he was in life. Fashion notwithstanding, they were a threat, and they were moving pretty good. Their yard tilted to the road and I think they were building steam coming downhill at me. Course maybe I was just scared shitless. I brought up the shotgun, racked up a shell, and was about to drop mom, when I realized I really didn’t want to waste rounds, or make noise. I slung the shotgun once I figured I had time to use the sword (which I’d put on my belt when I left the truck). I drew the sword, and entered into an old fashioned ass whupping. Zombies don’t block or dodge anything, so it’s not a fair fight if you just keep your spacing. They have no sense of self preservation. I took off her right arm with a backswing at the elbow, sending her into a wobbling tailspin. Once she stumbled to a
-Adrian
October 13 th
The best laid plans of mice and men right? I hate my fucking life.
Alright so the maintenance dump truck I grabbed started fine, no problem. I gathered up my gas cans, the Sig, the shotgun, and my short sword. It’s the smallest high quality sword I own, and if possible, I would rather use that first. However, driving with a sword sheathed on your hip is really awkward. I totally can see why a cop would take a nightstick off their belt when driving. I wound up just tossing it on the seat beside me.
So I was up early to get down there. About 8am. I’m pretty fortunate in that my girlfriend bought me one of those self winding watches that always stay running as long as you’re moving. You know I bet there are a shitload of these watches that are gonna run forever on the arms of zombies. How weird is that?
So I grabbed a good sized bite to eat (frozen bagel with jelly, can of beans, and two glasses of OJ from concentrate) and set off down the road to the gas station. The campus is pretty high in altitude relative to the valley we’re situated next to. We’re almost on a plateau really. What that means is our road (well, I guess it’s just MY road now) is pretty steep going downhill, and has a few ups and downs. The truck made it about two miles before it started hiccupping and coughing, and came to a halt. I pulled over after the power steering died (which if you’ve never done it is a pretty herculean task)
Turned the key off, tried to start it, and it tried real hard, but just sputtered and died. Lather, rinse, repeat a few times, and still a dead truck. So I had to make a decision, walk back and scrap the trip? Or walk back, get truck #1, and do it with that one. I’d be missing out on a lot of fuel doing that way, but at the very least it’d be a recon mission. I decided to do that. I got out into the cold morning air and immediately felt some burning fury and frustration. This shit always seems to happen to me. Always the crap that should NEVER go wrong, goes wrong. I should’ve expected this shit.
I started a slow jog. I had 2 miles, mostly uphill, and I didn’t want to gas out on this unnecessary and unexpected jog. I paced myself, and everything was fine until I got to the nice cape home that’s about a half mile from campus. It was on the right side of the road, set back about 50 feet with a long, curved driveway. It had lovely crème color siding and a very nice veranda connecting the garage to the main house. It also had two zombies meandering in the yard , one in the wilting center flower garden, and one right in front of the garage. I only noticed them because I happened to stop jogging right next to the house and glanced absently sideways. Had I not stopped, I would’ve jogged right past them. Well they sure as shit noticed me. When I finally took them in, they were both shuffling with their stiff, clumsy walk at me, arms sweeping, feet dragging.
My cursory examination of them pegged them as a couple. Probably the snooty people who owned this 300k house here in the hills. The guy had a sweater vest for Christ’s sake. In can only imagine the prick he was in life. Fashion notwithstanding, they were a threat, and they were moving pretty good. Their yard tilted to the road and I think they were building steam coming downhill at me. Course maybe I was just scared shitless. I brought up the shotgun, racked up a shell, and was about to drop mom, when I realized I really didn’t want to waste rounds, or make noise. I slung the shotgun once I figured I had time to use the sword (which I’d put on my belt when I left the truck). I drew the sword, and entered into an old fashioned ass whupping. Zombies don’t block or dodge anything, so it’s not a fair fight if you just keep your spacing. They have no sense of self preservation. I took off her right arm with a backswing at the elbow, sending her into a wobbling tailspin. Once she stumbled to a
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