I was on my way back from Am-Ko getting some lamb for dinner, and as I was driving, I noticed some odd looking folk doing something odd in Scott Park, off of Springfield. It looked like someone was getting attacked by some thugs. I pulled over, and was pulling out my cell phone to call the police, when one of the attackers tore off the arm of the victim and began to eat it. At this, I decided discretion was the better part of valor, and drove home as fast as my 1992 Tempo could take me.

I started getting some reports of zombies starting to roam the earth.

This troubled me.

I tried calling people, but it appears the phone network is out. Next step: try online. As Chip is never 5 seconds from something that communicates digitally, I tried contacting him. Apparently, the Black family is planning to hole up in their house in the middle of nowhere. As long as they don’t attract too much attention, I’m sure they could stay that way for a good long while.

I can’t stay at my apartment. It’s not safe. The windows are too big and too low, and I don’t have nearly enough supplies. There’s some places around town that would be safe had I prepared, but I simply haven’t. Hopefully I can go up to Gifford with Chip and try to make it there. There, I have a chance. Here, I’ve none.

Categories: Life of Peawee