It had been over a day now since I had last seen one of them. Where were they? Obviously, they no longer possessed the brainsss to hide, plan or play a waiting game. So they had either left for fleshier pastures or were all dead (again?). I was paranoid about being lucky and I wanted to be sure about their whereabouts.
So here I was standing on the roof of an arcade gaming plaza. We had lined up the outside of the store with gas cans scavenged from a nearby gas station. We had packed the inside of the store with some propane tanks, gas cans and plenty of boxes of nails and makeshift shrapnel from the hardware store. We stocked the basement of the store with all the propane tanks we could scavenge from around the block. We had dragged a diesel generator onto the roof and had plugged it into the gaming consoles downstairs. We had lined the outside of the store with speakers and strobe lights.
Kim and I walked. Nowhere in particular. We didn’t have a plan and I decided we should have one. So I gave it a thought or two.
What would other survivors like us do? Would they try to barricade and try holding out? Unlikely. After all, how many days could you hide before you ran out of supplies. And we still didn’t know how many days (or heaven forbid months) these walking dead could survive starvation. The survivors would likely head to a place where supplies would last them a long time.
A lone survivor would already have a great deal of courage, resilience and awesome luck to go with a stock of supplies and possibly a weapon. Multiply all of that a hundred times and it gives you a fight-back and surviving chance like no other. A place that could sustain more than a handful or survivors would be the ideal location.
The more I gave it a thought, the more one survival tip came to mind.
I had decided on abandoning the search for a bigger & badder weapon. The cricket bat in my hand should suffice for most cases and for the extreme ones I would have to rely on my limbs. Definitely not the upper ones (unless it was a zombie mosquito). But I do run fast, faster than the zombies at least.
With renewed determination (or was it hunger), I walked briskly in search of a grocery store. Ten minutes of walking got me my first smile of the day. Far away at a distance, I recognized the familiar stone building with the big bold WALMART brandishing the blue billboard. In my joy, I almost jogged my way there, before slowing down in the parking lot. Walmart had food and had plenty of it. By now, the store had either turned into a feasting ground for those zombies or a safe haven for survivors. It could very well play out both ways, the only surety was that it would not turn out empty.
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