Dave's Zombie Proof Bunker and Refuge for Unattached Wimmens

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Wandering down a long unused corridor, I'm laboring under the weight of two old, orange five gallon buckets, one hanging in each of my hands. They are full, very full, every once in a while, something falls out of one and tinkles across the concrete floor.

Eventually, I arrive at the door outside of Animal's new armory. If he wants to do the loading, I'll let him. Besides, I wasn't much impressed with the existing armory, since it was only a large room where we stored all the scavenged ammo and reloading supplies.

I scribble on a piece of paper--Geez, it's been a long time since I've had to write anything. How do you spell...nah, never mind.

I walk away whistling.

The note says, "5.45x39 and 5.7x28, please."

Both buckets are full of empty brass from the underground rifle range that served as the basis for the bunker when I started building it. But, since the whole world is a free fire zone now, it just doesn't seem necessary to practice anymore.

Time to rustle up some grub. Wonder if there's any meat in the fridge?
 
"Rabbit."

I know he didn't see me sitting at the table, but to his credit he didn't jump when I spoke. "I can't kill any of the bigger animals, and I hate plucking birds, so there's only rabbit in the fridge right now for meat, dear."

Animal and Dave have both seemed preoccupied... when they're around. And lord only knows where Whip and Ella have gotten off to. I started going a little stir crazy, but the last time I left didn't do me any good, so I've been trying to avoid starting out on my own again.

But time alone in my room hasn't done me any favors either.

I watch Dave from my seat, tracing the grain of the tabletop with my thumbnail for a moment before heading back out to find something to do in the yard.

I call back over my shoulder just before the door closes, "You know where to find me if anyone needs me."
 
Not me, Lady. You've got the wrong guy.

I'm physically repulsive.

Who said anything about physical aspects?

I've got no room to judge on that, darlin', so I try not to. Let the mirror tell you what you wanna hear, I'm just tellin' you what's true.
 
Hey Dave and friends! I thought of this thread and everyone last night... I have a silly game app on my phone, Zombie Smasher. It is exactly as it sounds, you tap the phone to smash the zombies. Last night I was playing it with my kiddos and it made my think of this thread.

http://screenshots.en.sftcdn.net/en/scrn/69654000/69654601/zombie-smasher-01-535x535.png

Well, you come back anytime you want, Sweetness. You're always welcome to shelter from the outside world with us, anytime you want.
 
Sitting solemnly in the corner, finishing the last of a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle Bourbon, I am clearly very drunk. So drunk that I hope I don't have to get up tonight and do anything. So drunk that I couldn't eat without becoming sick. So drunk in fact, that I have pushed my own rifle out of reach so that I don't drunkenly attempt to fire it indoors and hurt someone.

I can't believe what this world has become.

I can't believe what all of us have been forced to become.

The things we've had to do, just to survive, make it hard to maintain our sanity. Desperately holding onto our humanity may be enough...

I had to shoot an ex-girlfriend today. One of the few who would still talk to me after we'd split up. Sweet girl--or at least she was before she turned.

She was still wearing a locket that I'd given her for our third anniversary. It was the hardest time I've ever had, trying to pull the trigger on her...
 
*covers Dave with a blanket while he sleeps, nudging the firearm another foot or two away... giving it a moment of thought before taking a seat on the floor, head on his knee*
 
*Comes out of the workroom I've set up, buckets of freshly loaded ammunition neatly labeled and arranged. Stopping by Whip's door, leaving a large box with a note on the floor where she'll see it.*

"Whip,

Reloaded some rounds for your rifle. I took it out and did some work, made some measurements and calculations. These rounds will hold 1/2 MOA out to 800 yards, use them for the longer 'must make' shots.

Animal"

*Heads to the shower to clean up then go see who's about*
 
*sits in the sun, watching the beautiful weather and wondering where all the zombies are today*

"Surely, we didn't kill them all already?"
 
*Sitting atop the observation tower shirtless and enjoying a cold beer, having found a brewing kit and some pre-fab hopped malt extract a few weeks ago, looking out over the sun-drenched expanse, wondering the same thing Dave is.....there's a definite lack of deadheads today. Might they be light or temperature sensitive?*
 
*wanders into the yard* This place hasn't changed too much Dave. I'm not a zombie though, so don't shoot me.
 
*wanders into the yard* This place hasn't changed too much Dave. I'm not a zombie though, so don't shoot me.

Jumps up, runs down several flights of stairs, out through the security door, across the drawbridge, and across the field that separates us.

Gropetackles you and enjoys a happy, tearful reunion there on the ground.

"Oh, look at that. Your clothes fell off. Sorry. It seems to...just come naturally to me. Let's get inside."
 
Jumps up, runs down several flights of stairs, out through the security door, across the drawbridge, and across the field that separates us.

Gropetackles you and enjoys a happy, tearful reunion there on the ground.

"Oh, look at that. Your clothes fell off. Sorry. It seems to...just come naturally to me. Let's get inside."

Woohoo! My clothes seem to do that when you're around... Wonder why that is?

How's things been around here?
 
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