More Work.

So I realized I’m not quite done working yet. I forgot to get a ladder to get from my first floor to my second floor. I moved all of the important stuff to the second floor, but my kitchen, big bathroom, and dog are all on the first floor. Not sure what to do with my dog. He needs to be able to shit in the basement, so I can’t really put him on the second floor. Especially since I forgot to get a ladder.

Yeah, I use a rope to climb from one floor to the other. It’s a pain in the ass and there’s no way I could get my dog up or down it. Unless I made a pulley system… But then I’d have to get a pulley. And understand how pulley systems work. (haha! I kid. I think I know how they work…). I’m not sure if zombies can climb ladders, but I’m not about to go sit on one in the middle of the road to find out. And besides, I can just pull it up after me and I’m golden. Except for my dog. Hm….

Today I peeked my head out the door like a cartoon character checking to see if the coast is clear. It was, at least in my yard. I crept out as quietly as possible (bat in hand for encounters and pistol in holster for emergencies) and took down my clothesline. It’s a nice, solid, steel cable. I secured one end to to a thick branch of a tree next to my garage and tossed the other into an open second story window. I meant to zipline to my bike to make an escape if necessary, but there were problems with that. The bike would need to be far enough from my house that I could zip over any hordes trying to knock the walls down and simply bike away behind them. But it also needed to be where I could use my air compressor on it to top off the tires. Also, the air compressor is loud. I screwed some garage hangers to the outside wall and hung up my bike.

I decided to connect all of the extra compressor hose that I had and secure the nozzle to the bent pipe I’m going to use as a pulley to zip down it. That way, the noise would come from my house and I’d have time to fill the tires before I rode off. I also tied some rope to a very high, but sturdy branch that was actually in danger of poking my house. That way, I could Tarzan swing back from the tree into the house if I have to.

The other problem was arming myself. My Five-seveN is reliable, but it fires an uncommon round that might be hard to find. Then again, since the gun is uncommon, people might not have snatched up the ammo for it. I wanted to find a 9mm Glock which is far more ubiquitous and thus easier to find ammo for. On the other hand, the ammo might ironically be impossible to find since everyone may have grabbed it. Either way, I want one just to have options. The only place I could think of in town that sells guns is Gander Mountain. So I hopped on my bike and took off up town.

There were a lot more zombies hobbling around to weave through. There was a bit of a mess in the Gander Mountain parking lot, cars all abandoned after being rammed into each other. I actually saw a five-car star-crash, as if all of them had tried to drive to the exact same spot from five perfectly different directions.

I stepped through a broken glass pane on the sliding doors and looked around cautiously. The place had been looted to hell and was a total mess. I drew my Five-seveN and held it at the ready as I crept through the store toward the firearm section. Stripped clean, as far as I could tell. I thought I heard a noise several aisles away, like someone had knocked something off a shelf. Great. Zombies walking around everywhere and I get blasted by some bastard in an empty Gander Mountain.

I got even lower and sneaked to where the store receives incoming merchandise. A few boxes were ripped open, but otherwise there were a few full pallets of untouched stuff. People don’t know that’s there? I started scanning the pallets for brand names. I considered demolishing them to see if there was anything in the middle, but I didn’t want to make noise or spend too much time in there. Finally, on a pallet near the back, I spied a box with the word “Glock” on the side. I whipped out my knife and cut through the plastic wrap and box, and there they were: six pistolas, just chillin. I considered only taking like two, but then just cut more of the plastic away and took the whole box. Obviously, I need ammo for them, but I’ll worry about that later. I needed to get out of there.

I never saw whatever made that noise, if there even was someone there. I snatched a stray backpack on my way out and shoved the Glock box in it. I made it back to my bike and biked home, having to go around a few blocks due to high concentrations of zombies.

Then, as you’re aware, the power went out AGAIN so I didn’t get to put this up until now. But here it is! Like, days later. I guess we’re lucky the power’s still up. We might need to figure out a way to maintain that condition or we’ll all be dark and unable to communicate.


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