« Last post by slejhamR on December 09, 2016, 07:29:23 AM »
I suppose it doesn't matter how many days it's been since I last wrote. Everything is going well, and the whole gang is still fighting (when is retirement for an everyday survivor?). I feel the need to convey my thoughts before this Christmas, so here I go.
My name... eh, just call me Sledge. I've been called that name so often I honestly forget what it used to be. Crazy, you live your whole life being called one name and then you lose what it was. But I'm getting off track here; if I'm right, someone is reading my journals, which means they want a story. Well, here's what's been happening since I woke up from that knock on the head.
Since the FO started mobilizing and spreading across the globe, hardly a day goes by where we don't hear helicopters buzzing overhead; I've only had to shoot down one redneck trying to take pot shots at the kids. Then we had to clean up the wreckage, loot the chopper for parts, and rush back to the base to start getting ready for the horde that would be coming as a result of the crash. It's amazing how those things are still walking. Nearly three years since I went topside and yet there are still walking corpses everywhere. Now I never finished my biotech degree, but something tells me that's not normal. Then again, this is coming from a young adult with a machete strapped to his armor, with an M4 on his back and a belt of grenades on his belt, so I guess normality is kind of gone now anyway.
We're done defending the town. I left that to Goer and his guys; they want to protect the town? They can have it. I'm done fighting a war for a shopping center, so I'm just going to do what I always planned on: fortify the hell out of the hill, and sit on the porch and blast the crap outta anything that moves. Sure am glad that it's worked out so far; typically, you get at least one crazy guy with an AK telling you that everything was theirs by now. Not that I'm complaining, though; it's nice to not worry about stepping on a landmine.
The kids are going on 15 now, and they're getting that teenage angst that we all go through. I just tell em that the world already has enough maniacs to deal with, and that I don't care what's cool nowadays; last I checked, the biters don't mind it either. They typically stay inside while manton and Catfish teach them math, science, and survival. Why? Because it's engineers like myself that keep us safe and keep the biters out, not to mention provide electricity. Oh yeah, I may have scrounged up some solar panels and long story short, we're able to get hot showers again. God knows there's a lot of soap and shampoo left in the world (even though Dave still won't shower). We're getting close to Christmas here, so everyone is trying to get everyone something nice, though it's not like there's a lot left in this area. Though, let's be honest, it's not like we can complain about the lack of dangerous trips into town just for some band aids.
Well, my pencil's almost run out of lead, so I'll end this entry here til I get more. To all survivors, I know it's cold outside, but try to tough it out. This is the time of year to celebrate surviving this long. To the good men and women of the FO, we toast to your success in bringing freedom to this lawless world.