While Chloe sat, waiting for drone images to come up, Moria readjusted her office. With the heater blowing reliably strong now, her office was heating up, and she was grateful for the warmth. As her fingers and toes regained more feeling, she straightened up the blankets that had made up her little nest with her laptop and made herself a cup of cocoa in her microwave.
Moria had replaced the tarps in place over the windows, but checked occasionally for action outside. Sadly, the barricade she had placed in front of the doors in the stairwell had fallen with the zombies desperately seeking out the alarm that had blared for thirty minutes across town. Thankfully, however, the hallway was now reasonably empty, and it only took a small amount of bravery to shut the door and barricade it off again, before racing back to her office, grabbing a basket at the receptionist station that held a wide selection of teas and cocoas for people who had been working during the holidays, as she did. Now, Moria sat in front of her window, amazed at how fast a handful of zombies had trickled back to this area after the alarm stopped, and waited for the anticipated snow to begin to fall.
“Any word?” Moria finally texted to Chloe, the girl who had helped her get the nice heat she was enjoying.
“Nothing.” Came the response. “The alarm went off, sounded like it was cut off instead of died off, so I am hoping that maybe that means they shut it off, meaning they are alive.”
“Have they been injured by them before?” Moria asked, checking her own non-necrosis having bite wound.
“Yeah, both seem to be immune, both were bit, no dead skin, so they thought they were the best to go on the trip for supplies.”
“I guess this is why they said not to go out.”
“Oh, ‘they’, you mean the one person that seems to know this is happening outside of the city?”
Moria laughed out loud in her office. “Fair point. Mark said to stay in, but it seemed a smart thing to do.”
“Yeah, I didn’t want them to, but they insisted if the power went, or if the snow came, we could all get stuck for a week or longer, with no way to cook or anything…”
Moria felt her stomach tighten. She was getting by thanks to her coffee maker and microwave, along with the small number of dishes and plastic wear she was able to scavenge from her own office and the breakroom. If the power went out, she wouldn’t have a way to cook anything, which would mean some of the food, like the instant mac, wouldn’t do her much good.
“Oh, I hope the power doesn’t go out…” Moria responded finally.
Chloe’s response came as a slight reassurance, but only slightly. “Well, its attached to the morgue so it would have backup generators. Normally they kick on automatically, right?”
Moria considered this, recalling the year previously when people were housed in this building, camping in offices, because the hospital, even the administration floors, still had power and so many parts of town had been without power during that big snow storm.
“Yeah, we double as a shelter sometimes.” Moria responded.
“See! That’s good. Eat the microwave food first if you can, to be safe.”
“Because other than snow, we have zombies?” Quipped Moria.
“Exactly. Do you have food?” Chloe asked.
Moria assessed her food, a pretty healthy collection of food that didn’t require heat, and several assorted quick meals, like microwave mac n cheese, microwavable containers of ravioli and soup, oatmeal, and cup of noodle. The floor was well stocked, having been restocked before the holidays, and having not had many people back to work yet, Moria did a quick count.
“Eating pretty often, I could still survive a week or two, longer if I’m careful, less if the water or power goes. Won’t be healthy eating, but…”
“Good.” Came Chloe’s first response before the second, more hopeful, text. “Maybe by then, we will have help. Or have gotten out of here.”
Moria sipped her cocoa, hopeful as well, but in her gut knowing that in two weeks’ time, they would still be in this city.
After a few more minutes, the screen on her lap blinked, and a new feed came up, first of Marks footage from outside the city. Moria turned up her computer a little, noticing how much more natural he was behind the camera talking versus in front of it reporting. After Mark’s footage, the drone’s blurry images of the horrifying zombies making a long and all too quick trek towards the sporting goods store. Moria watched, mesmerized, and the hundreds and thousands of zombies were everywhere.
“Are you seeing this?” Moria asked Chloe via text.
“Yes.” Came Chloe’s one word response, her own eyes glued to her screen.
When the drone’s image finally came to its target, the drone showed images of what looked like thousands of the zombies in the city, all swarming the building to the right of the store, as well as the store. Zombies swarmed all around the buildings in the area, thousands, breaking into windows, entering places that had or hadn’t been entered yet. There was no sound on the video, and Mark had set it to a time lapse, which made both Moria and Chloe fear that there were no answers on the footage.
Before long, their hunches were confirmed, with the alarm finally stopping, evident by the zombies slowing leaving the area after a period of time. Mark got back on, giving a recap that they didn’t know anything, but would continue to send the drone to the area to survey it. He asked if anyone who was watching could send footage, and then, spoke frankly to the camera.
“Flake City, I am Mark Wassermann, and I am just a writer. I don’t have a team of people, just some tech guys to help. If you have any information, or technology, to get us more eyes on the inside, reach out to me. You may not be alone, but together, we are. We have to help ourselves. Together, Flake City.”
Moria considered this, and for the first time was a little impressed by Mark. Moria eyed the document that had finished transferring to her laptop, and noticed the lap reports he had sent were ready for her to read. Moria pulled her laptop to her and opened the first document, a horrific set of pictures showing symptoms of the zombies.
In these pictures, Moria saw several zombies, but they were clearly dead, laid out on a morgue table, all too similar to her own. Moria looked for a source of infection, but didn’t see a bite mark, just the gray yellow skin that the reanimated dead seemed to have, darkened eye sockets, blood on her hands, body and mouth. Moria read on, finding out that the patient, unnamed obviously, had attacked several of the other lab workers, injuring 7 people in the lab, one of which fatally, before finally someone had hit him in the back of the head with a fire extinguisher, crushing his skull, and stopping the patient from killing more people.
The person who had died reanimated in under four hours, the shortest an injured person succumbed to the injuries and died, was 12 hours, although they suspected they died earlier from the situation at hand, which accelerated the reanimation time-line. As far as Moria could tell, the situation went from bad, to nearly manageable, to really bad, and then it got out of the facility, landing where it did now. Moria, after reading the lab accounts, was amazed she had lived, finding many of the lab workers had not been immune. Apparently, only two people in the facility had been immune, one of which escaped, one of which died in the facility, from injuries sustained from zombies. Moria remembered watching one person get torn to pieces, and knew all too well the fate of some of these people who died in the lab.
The reports made no mention of water solubility tests, making Moria think perhaps water was never an issue. Moria combed through the reports and notice no known infection from water, only bodily fluids, and one fairly cryptic report stated, “There are more of the creatures than us, so we are certain it isn’t airborne, only because some of us are alive.” Made Moria breathe easier in her warming office. Moria sent text messages to Mark and Chloe informing her of what she had learned, mostly to enjoy the thrill of communicating with people, and settled in with a notebook and her glowing monitor screen to put together a time-line of events from the lab.
Chloe sat, anxiously, in her apartment, hoping for news from Charlie or Damian. Both had turned their phones on silent, to avoid noise issues, but neither had answered any of her messages. Chloe sent them each another, asking for any update that they were safe. Chloe looked over the maps she had been staring at, and pulled out her sketch pad and colored pencils.
Absentmindedly, Chloe had been drawing out a crude map that showed the zombie landscape of Flake City. Chloe had disregarded the ground, and instead looked at the city in an overview, with the heights considered, to make a map of how to get around the city using mostly the rooftops. Chloe had sent a message to Mark regarding tips for cold weather, and after some chiding from herself and Moria, had added a “Watch for Zombies” warning for anyone daring to go outside. Mark had argued that they shouldn’t give advice on how to go about going outside, until Chloe and Moria reminded him how hard it was to survive without heat or water. Now, the tips included taking someone to watch for zombies, staying quiet to not alert zombies, and after doing everything you needed outside, securing yourself inside- barricading doors and windows. Chloe took some pictures from her survival books about the first 48 hours, and sent those as well, hoping he would make use of the information that advised keeping gear ready to go, at high ground, ready to retreat, and standing guard at all times.
It was nearly dawn when a noise outside alerted Chloe to the balcony. Chloe already had her gun on her, and quickly took it out. Chloe listened, and could hear someone climbing the outside. From the sound of it, they were nearly in her balcony, but were most certainly human. Chloe breathed deeply, keeping her gun at the ready, and slid open the door to greet the twenty something year old guy with dirty blonde hair and brown eyes who was trying to find a way to open the door.
“Knocking works. Can I help you?” Asked Chloe, her stormy ocean blue eyes meeting his own with an intensity he couldn’t look away from.
“I was coming to rob you.” The man blurted out, before shaking his head.
“Go on.” Chloe prompted him. “That’s not what you wanted to say, but please, do try again.”
“I wanted to tell you I was racing from zombies, and I needed some help, get you to trust me, kill you, I need a gun.”
Chloe nodded. “Yeah, people like you always come out in a bad time. Can’t just, I don’t know, be a decent person, can you?”
The man looked at her, wondering why he hadn’t said the lie he had crafted. He took a step forward, and Chloe drew her gun quickly, without hesitation, or even a tremor of fear, a tell-tale sign the man, Geoff, was used to seeing in all the women he interacted with. “I don’t know why I can’t lie, but that just means you will die scared, because I can’t lie to you.”
Chloe smiled. “You won’t kill me, so, obviously, you are able to lie.” Geoff moved forward again, and she shot, without question, accurately hitting his shoulder. “I won’t miss again.” She promised as clutched the bloody wound. “Are you alone?”
“You, dumb bitch! Yes! That’s why I need a fucking gun! All those fucking things are coming now!” He screamed, lunging at her. Chloe shot again, this time in his stomach, and looked where he had pointed while Geoff tried to hold himself up from shock.
“Well look at that, more truth.” Chloe muttered as the screaming zombies ran from all directions towards her building. With that Chloe now advanced on the stranger, lifting slightly to push the man over her the ledge of her balcony, to the waiting hordes of zombies, and returned inside to her apartment, calmly. “And now they think they got the noise, and they will leave.” Chloe said, listening as the sounds were already retreating.
The zombies had torn the man apart, instantly, as around a hundred or so had already gathered when he fell, so, Chloe told herself as the calm gave way to panic and the shakes began in her body, at least he wouldn’t become a vengeful zombie.
Chloe sat down for a moment, letting the shakes in her hands and body subside. She felt her phone buzz, and with trembling fingers she unlocked it, hoping to see a message from Damian. Instead, it was Moria, asking how she was doing.
Chloe laughed to herself, thinking of the many times her particular oddity of making people around her say the truth had saved her life, versus the times it just made life awkward and uncomfortable. “On one hand,” Chloe told herself out loud. “gross perverts like Brinaforte straight up tell you they want to get you in the back room to try and touch you inappropriately, which is awkward, but sometimes, murderous thugs admit their plan, and you send them to their death…” Chloe bit her hand, trying to not cry or scream, also hoping guilt wouldn’t eat her alive.
“No one was here. It didn’t happen.” Chloe finally said. “Just like every other weird time, it never happened.” Chloe reasoned, knowing that, like so many other times, no one would have seen it anyways, so she could just pretend it didn’t happen. With a deep breath, Chloe stood up, picked up and holstered her gun and went to the bathroom to wash her face and hands before putting on another pot of coffee.
“It’s been pretty boring.” Chloe finally typed back to Moria’s question. “How about you? Learn anything cool?” With that, Chloe set her phone back down on the counter, and continued working on her map, wishing Charlie or Damian would respond, or that Mark would at least report something with his drones, desperately trying to think of anything but what had just happened.
Mark paced the small motel room, after having done yet another sweep for the government placed monitoring devices, and removing one, he had made up a list of various warnings the news channel needed, while Martin and Henry manned the drone. Mark had been getting regular updates from Moria, and was trying to overcome what felt like the first instance of writers block he had ever encountered in his entire life.
“How do you write a story like this? ‘Hi, I’m Mark Wassermann, and I know less than you. Back to you.’” He mocked himself in his mirror.
“No one is coming to help.” Mark said out loud.
“You are the help.” Came back a voice. Mark jumped, looking around, trying to find the source. Nothing in his room was on.
“Hello?” Asked Mark, curiously. The silence of the room was almost deafening with the sound that had been in it before. Everything in the room, even the low hum of his computer, seemed to fall silent. Then, the same voice, louder than before, as if right in his ear said, “YOU ARE THE HELP.” Mark leapt around, searching for the sound, when his door swung open, breaking the bubble of silence he had been in, the noises came rushing back to his ears, and he looked at Martin’s confused face.
“What happened?” Asked Martin, who hadn’t been able to hear thoughts from Mark’s room, and also noting Mark’s ashen, terrified face.
“I…I… honestly don’t know.” Mark said, walking to his bottle of scotch. Mark held the bottle before setting it back down, and looking to his right. An unopened bottle of his preferred gin sat next to him, as if it had been there all along, when in fact, it hadn’t been when the last bug had been placed, nor had it been when Mark had spun around searching for the voice. Opting to ignore it’s weird arrival, but not it’s existence, Mark opened the bottle, poured a glass over some ice, and shook the feeling off.
“That was weird…” Martin’s voice trailed off. “Anyways, um, hey, so, the drone isn’t charged, we have to bring it back to charge it. Thankfully, the backup battery pack is charged, so it’s only about a ten-minute down time.”
“Oh, only ten minutes until the consumer grade drone can fly back to the zombie infested city with trapped civilians, to give us fuzzy pictures of a horrible situation, in which we can do nothing? We need better gear!” Mark snapped. “Sorry. I shouldn’t snap at you. I just don’t know what to do, and what the hell are we even using?”
“Well, strictly speaking, we aren’t allowed to use it either. We just are.” Martin said with a grin. “And it’s okay to snap, I’m a telepath, I knew you felt bad about it before you did, guilt is weird like that.” Martin said with a bigger smile, one that made him look much older than he ever had previously.
“We need help in there. And we can’t even have the thing we do have. What can I even do?” Mark asked, defeated.
“Well, you are doing a pretty good job of keeping people from knowing what you are doing. I was already given another bug to plant in your room, which means you already took out all of theirs.”
Mark laughed, amazed at Martin’s candor. “Sure, yeah, I don’t let bugs in my space.” Mark stood, took the small bud from Martin, and looked to him. “Can you listen on whatever they bug?”
“Yeah.” Martin said. “Well, Henry can hack it. I just listen.”
Mark smiled, wondering if maybe a plan could come from the bugs, and dug out an envelope he had that would block the signal, without destroying the device.
“Savings plan.” Mark said with a smile, tucking it between some towels.
Martin shrugged. “So, no sign of them, we will send the drone back. We got told that the military can also get us pizza’s, not just McDonalds, so, our menu doubled.
“Great.” Mark groaned, hoping food was better in the future, and joined Martin and Henry in the lobby of the motel, where Henry had set up a make shift command center for inside Flake City, which Martin and Mark were hoping to finish setting up with drones and more camera feeds.
“If we had enough survivors, even webcams on laptops could make a kind of CCTV to help the residents know where the heavy concentrations are, so on and so forth, if we even had enough survivors.”
“ZCTV would be cool.” Martin said with a boyish grin. “What? Neither of you were thinking it, and that’s the real crime.”
Martin edited the front page of the news channel, to now include a page asking for anyone with cameras, even on laptops, to get additional feeds of the zombie footage. Now, the rolling clips that played were the most recent broadcasts, the weather, the weather proofing tips, zombie avoidance tips, the most recent drone footage and the hotline number.
Martin had used Mark’s phone to relay that the drones had to go down for a minute, and the person, Chloe, called the phone to verify.
“Just answer.” Mark said as he looked over a report Moria had emailed him.
“Hello?” Martin answered. Martin didn’t care for phones, his telepathy didn’t seem to work over the phone, and he didn’t like having normal conversations with strangers.
“Hi, you aren’t Mark?” Came the voice, Chloe.
“Nope, I’m Martin,” Martin said with a smile,
“Oh. How long will the drone be down?”
“About twenty minutes” Martin said freely.
“And are you qualified to know that?” Chloe finally asked.
“Sure, I’m the telepath, I know everything.” Martin blurted before clamping a hand over his mouth. Henry looked to him with large eyes, Mark continued reading, oblivious.
“Hey, hey, Martin, shhh its okay!” Came the voice. Martin slowly put it back to his ear. “Hey, it’s fine!” Chloe’s voice said, in a very kind tone. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that. I know you are qualified, I don’t need to ask, that was rude. Our little secret. Okay?”
Martin was silent for a minute before finding his voice. “it’s…okay…Uh…I will, um, get the drone out as fast as I can.” Martin promised.
“Thanks.” Chloe said before hanging up.
Martin looked to Henry, who made the “not here” gesture to him. Martin took a sip of his soda and shook his head, wondering what on earth was hidden in Flake City, other than the zombies.
Chloe hung her head, disappointed in herself for snapping, being rude to someone answering the hot line, “like qualifications even mattered anyways”…and praying that she hadn’t scared one of the two people Mark had helping him on the outside. Chloe eyed the TV, waiting for any indication of anything happening. It had been a long night. The snow storm was coming, quickly, but it seemed that dawn would break before it did. The weather reporting of Flake City, had it not been overtaken so quickly, save for a small room in the center, would normally explain on the weather reports how storms sometimes got held up in the mountains, normally building momentum before dumping onto Flake City.
Sometimes, it would die out, or go out to the water, but when it got delayed in the mountains, it normally built. Weather reporters normally used this time to advise people to go out and grab last minute supplies of wood, food, water, and candles, since they had an extended window of time and the storm would obviously be increased. Chloe considered all of this as the sun forced the sky to glow a weird angry red of morning’s dawn, with dark angry clouds bubbling over the mountains, threatening to break the city. Chloe stood on her balcony, waiting for the snow flakes, keeping an eye out for the building the guys would use to come back. Her map, which she had now nearly perfected, showed all the buildings that were easily accessible from one next to it, making a bridge. Surprisingly, if you were a little creative in a few key places, and went a long way around, you could get around most of the entire city, on rooftops, assuming no major building collapses. Chloe watched, waiting for a sound, anything at all, when she heard a few loud shrieks, and the sound of running feet. Chloe looked around, trying to see where the zombies were headed, and what they were chasing. As Chloe’s visitor, last night had shown her, sometimes the zombies were chasing things she needed to be worried about too.
Chloe heard a loud crack of thunder, which shook her from her thoughts, and she looked to the mountains. Chloe, never one to be scared of weather, found herself wanting to run inside, when she looked up, into the angry clouds. The clouds had violent bolts of lightning lighting up the clouds. Vivid ice blues, angry reds, even some sharp greens and bright white lights. Chloe watched in a fearful awe as lightening smashed in the clouds, with thunderous sounds clapping around her. Small fluffy snowflakes began to fall, almost whimsically, as the wind howled. Chloe looked back, and her heart soared as she saw an aluminum ladder, with what looked like some wood and pipe, attached to the ladder to reinforce it as a bridge. Charlie held it as Damian raced across the bridge, as if the wind wasn’t blowing at tremendous speeds. Chloe could barely breathe for the wind gusting, and yet Damian crossed, held the board, and a third person, one Chloe didn’t know, walked across, he looked injured, and yet, no issues with wind. Finally, Charlie, with what looked like an aching hip, limped across the bridge. Chloe’s heart was in her throat as she thought of how easily Charlie could fall, with the winds gusting so strong Chloe was glad there was a balcony, the wind was pushing her small frame around the small patio with ease. Chloe grabbed hold of her door and entered her apartment, panic about not weather proofing enough shooting through her body, Chloe shut and locked her door, and raced back to her door. They had told her to not open it, in case the stairwell had been breached by zombies, so Chloe unlocked her locks and looked out the peephole. Seeing nothing, Chloe nearly swung the door wide until she remembered the ones she hadn’t seem yesterday using the peephole window, and held it tight. When Chloe heard gun shots, she checked the peephole. A few shadows were cast along the hall, and finally Charlie was present, and quickly did the agreed upon ‘shave and a haircut’ knock.
“Chloe, it’s us. We made it.”
“Oh, thank god!” Chloe swung open the door to Charlie, Damian, and an injured stranger who looked familiar. “Quick, inside, I’ll get us all drinks- Is he hurt? I’ll get my kit!” Chloe said, locking the door behind them and securing it with the door jam.
“Chevay” Charlie said, looking to the man, “This is Chloe, Chloe, Chevay”
“Chev, really,” The man said, standing and greeting Chloe.
“Pleasure, please, sit, let me fix you up.” Chloe said gesturing to the table. Damian had pulled out the first aid kit, and now looked at Chloe with wide eyes.
“Warm up by the fire, then I can take your clothes, when you go to shower-” Chloe said looking into her friend’s eyes, normally a darker topaz, they were now the faintest of yellow, Damian looked scared, and cold. “Fresh clothes and stuff, in the bathroom.” She added, before turning her attention to Chev, who had a few nasty wounds, one on his head, and what looked like a bullet in the leg.
“What happened?” Asked Chloe after she got some fresh gauze on the leg, and started checking the head injury.
“People are not being their best selves.” Charlie replied, mocking Mark’s tone from his reports earlier, as Charlie searched the counter for the cigarettes Chloe had rolled for him. Chloe pointed to a small box by a stack of notes she had been taking about the internet pages that were still running, and began to clean Chev’s wound.
“This is all part of what’s to come.” Chev said with a groan as Chloe began putting some antibacterial medicine on his head wound.
“Yeah, we heard you, Chev” Damian said from the fire. “Glad we were what’s to come, or he would have been dead. People are murderous out there. This quiet little town…”
“Damian knew two of em…” Charlie explained. “He didn’t expect normally good people to snap.” Charlie looked to Damian with a gentle sigh. “None of us do. He was brave.”
“Saved me, I would have died, he is not wrong.” Chev said with a chuckle. “I may have put him on edge. It’s the mountains in me. I am sorry, Damian, and I know if you two hadn’t…” Chev trailed off.
Damian turned to the group, and smiled a genuine smile. “It’s fine. Just…frazzled.” Damian said with a shrug. “We are all lucky.”
Chloe wondered what had happened when her friends were gone, but figured first, she should tend to Chev. First, Chloe asked him some questions to get to know him, mostly assessing he didn’t have a major concussion.
“Well, it’s not great.” Chloe finally said. “And I don’t know how to treat the leg yet, but, I think you won’t die from the head injury, nor do I see any dead flesh, so hopefully you aren’t infected…” Chloe looked to Charlie, “Moria, the morgue worker? She has been reading the reports from the lab, trying to figure out some more information, seems the longest it took anyone to turn was 12 hours, shortest was 4- it could be longer or shorter, but that’s the window of time.”
“I got bit early on, I think I’m immune.” Chev said with a smirk. “All us mountain folk should be immune, I would bet.”
Chloe looked to him. “Well, Damian is from the Southside, and he managed to walk all the way to my apartment, so maybe not just you guys.”
Chev smiled. “Damian is of the mountain. Just like you. It’s an energy about you.” The man said, looking deep into Chloe’s eyes, before shaking his head. “Sorry, forgive an old man.” He smiled. “We go on about the spirits, the mystical, but when the dead rise, I’m sure a nice young lady like you do not want to hear about that.”
Chloe smiled, “No, I would love to, after we get you guys patched up and I hear what happened. We got Mark, the news guy, to send a drone in to get visuals, never saw you guys, I should send him a message, let him know you are safe back here.”
“I will text him.” Damian said, looking to Charlie. “Then, I think a hot shower, and some food, that storm is going to hit.” Damian dug his phone out of a duffle bag and sent a message before leaving to the restroom.
Chloe checked Chev’s leg, and with Charlie’s help, made sure no extra bits of bullet had been lodged. It seemed to be a nice clean shot, so they dressed it carefully, and got Chev seated in a chair with a hot cup of black coffee sweetened with honey. Chloe checked over Charlie who mostly had cuts and several scratches, and the limp of his aching hip. The wind howled outside, and it seemed like every gust of wind would somehow shoot pain into his leg, something he only noticed in bad snowstorms like the one they had years back.
“It’s going to be bad. I’m glad we set up the stuff downstairs…Hope this damn power holds.” Charlie muttered when Damian exited the bathroom. Charlie washed up, and helped Chev into the restroom to help him get cleaned off of extra blood and other assorted fluids. When the guys were done washing the details of their exploits off of them, Charlie and Damian cleaned up the bathroom and deposited the dirty remainders into the washer. Chloe had read that keeping everything clean was important, because when the power and water went out, cleaning became trickier, so having everything clean helped more, and this all lead to Chloe washing things every chance she had, and insisting the guys help out to do the same. Chloe had poured everyone coffee and placed out some food for everyone when the TV flicked to a live feed of Mark, in what looked like a motel lobby.
“Hi, Flake City Survivors, I’m Mark Wassermann, and this is News for Flake City. We have good news of some missing survivors, back safely, uninfected, which is great news. We have our number, and we are trying to connect people, so if you are out there, please, contact us, we want to help you.”
Mark looked around and took a breath before continuing. “We are in the early stages of the zombie outbreak of Flake City, and are gathering all information we can. For now, we know all communications in and out have been strictly throttled, and there is no way out of the city. This is for the safety of everyone outside, and I am here to help you, on the inside. We are currently making lists of everything needed inside of Flake City. With the incoming weather, any and all rescue efforts will be affected, so the most important thing to do now is to secure your home, and prepare to wait this out for at least a week, if not several more. The storm is about to hit, it seems to be holding at the mountains, building pressure. Please, do not risk going out, zombies are fast, active, and very dangerous. They are greatly attracted by noise, we do not know how well developed their sense of smell or sight are, so we encourage everyone to stay quiet, keep TV’s low, and loud noises to a minimum. This includes gunshots. As more information and tips about these zombies come in, we will be updating this page, but please, if you have information, call, but DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT try and interact with these zombies, all evidence points to 100% murderous intent with these creatures, and they will try to kill you.” Mark took another breath, steadying himself before giving the next bit of advice.
“They seem very able to break down windows, and we have some reports of slightly elevated intelligence, one that took down a small barricade, another that worked an elevator- Lock down all entrances and exits, secure all windows, with wood, or anything else you have- barricade all doors. Many advise having your supplies at a retreat able point- If your home is breached, where will you and your loved ones flee to hide? If this is upstairs, or in a more secure room, make sure you have supplies in there, before the zombies get in. These are terrifying times, but if everyone stays calm, the people of Flake City can easily overcome this disaster. We are hoping the weather also slows down the zombies, but we must also advise caution, we do not know how they will react to snow, if they will freeze. Exercise extreme caution only leave the safety of your home if the danger is life threatening, because between zombies and the freezing temperatures, outside your home is probably more life threatening.” Mark stopped, and smiled. “Now that is really the kind of thing you really go to college to say into a camera.” Mark said sarcastically. “We will update as we have more, our number is on the screen. I’m Mark Wassermann, and Flake City, you are not alone.”
“He’s getting better.” Charlie observed as Mark signed off.
Chloe nodded. “Yeah, maybe. Not like he could get much worse.”
The group laughed, for the first time all day, and watched the images of the storm coming in from the TV, having blocked most of the windows with wood, tape, and tarp, for the storm.
Outside, the wind howled, the mountains barely holding back the storm as it gained power, and 100,000 zombies began to have snow fall on their ashen dead skin.
Thank you for reading! Tune in next week for chapter seven!
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