Well, this is Arklay is it?

The “community”.

So far, haven’t seen anything spectacular. Took me nearly a week of waiting before I even got noticed by someone at the hospital/shelter that could show me were the so called food was they handed out to people.

And what was in the bag? A tin of cat food and an apple.

I’m not above eating cat/dog food by any means. That was an epicurean meal. A delicacy a couple of nights when the hunger had gone down into starvation.

Still smells like shit though.

Apparently, there’s jobs around here…where you are paid in cash. Money. What good is money anymore?

Food, water, shelter, ammo. Those are the things that matter these days. Not paper or coin money. I still have my wallet on me with the money in there that I hadn’t burned when the days were too wet to get the wood to burn. But now I’m EXPECTED to pay with money?

This place certainly isn’t what I thought it’d be.

But here I am. Nothing for it now except to see if I’m sticking around.

Before all this, it’d been months since I’d considered getting around other people. Everyone I’d saved from the military base either left to find their families or they are dead. By the undead or by my hand because no one else had the balls to end someone’s life before they turned.

By now, I’ve forgotten how many of the undead and survivors alike I’ve had to kill to get this far.

In any case, if the people here are still around at least it means they are smart enough to stay alive. Makes me wonder how many of them actually spent time our there and how long. A few days? Weeks? Months? Since the beginning? It’s that last group I’d trust. They know what it really takes to give it all to survive. Might be military or just damned lucky.

For now, I’ll stay at the hospital/shelter and see what else I can learn around her. At least the hunting is good. Bagged me a deer and a couple of smaller critters I could cook up and eat later.

Seems the place isn’t Fort Knox though as zombies still get in here. No matter where I go, always have to stay on my guard.

I wonder if I’ll even be able to sleep tonight or if I’ll wake up hearing the sounds of walkers in my head and reaching for the gun that isn’t there but locked up three floors down.

Maybe I’ll keep writing in this old water stained notebook I picked up or if I’ll end up using it for kindling as well.