April 14, 2017
- – Weapon(s): SIG P226, Knife x3, Hand Axe
- – Ammo: Handgun Ammo x15
- – Food: Canned food x1
Not much to say today. I spent time scavenging, doing drills and practice, and ‘patrolling’ for hordes of shamblers, but otherwise I didn’t do much else. It’s about the only routine I engage in, and the pattern starts to reassert itself whenever I stay somewhere long enough to get to know the terrain. I wake up, drink water, eat some small amount of food and do morning drill sets. Then I head out, scavenge and patrol the outskirts of town looking for wandering hordes to intercept.
I know I should do more to socialize and fit in with the locals, but I can’t bring myself to it. It’s one thing to be casual with the TFR, who are often more like military than civilians, but I find I have little to offer most ‘regular’ people despite having more in common with them now than I ever did before the Outbreak.
One thing that never really leaves you when you enter ‘safe zones’ is the knowledge that everyone can get got, at any time. The less ‘sturdy’ the person you’re talking to is, the more likely they’ll be the next to go. How do you make friends when you know they could die at any moment? I’m not sure I want to, but I should.
I’m running out of food and water again, so I’d better bust my ass back ‘home’. There’s never enough, of anything, to last. Not even peace, no matter how much I might want to believe in the possibility.
Stay sharp, stay alive,