Extra writing, Zombie Novel.

"Seriously. It had to be zombies didn't it?"

I thought to myself

"Oh well" i said aloud

I Grabbed the bowl and spoon as I get up from the breakfast table after watching the news. Washing the dishes would have been the

next thing on my list but not with shufflers roaming the streets. No. I had to get ready.

I go upstairs into my room and grab several items instantly; I start with my tactical harness, a rigid hikers pack and a small satchel, I begin packing. First I grab a change of clothes, it's Winter so the heavy double thick carpenters pants and Light coat worked well enough

"Armor later"

I say again to no one in particular. The Idea of a kevlar vest and riot helmet was entertained in my head for only a small time.

"Wouldn't help much"

I continue to pack my gear. In the tactical harness I throw five handgun magazines into their respective pouches, thirty-five .45s in those plus the ammo I threw into a ziplock bag in my satchel. Two Mags for the Remington, these held a bit more so about another Forty bullets on the ready all .308's the rest into the satchel the same as the .45's. I turn to look around my room trying to remember where I put it

"A-ha there you are" 

I say as I reach for my Machete under a pile of magazines.

"You're gonna come in handy"

I slide the chunk of hard carbon steel into it's sheath and put it on my belt and continue packing. quickly grabbing some utilities; a Leatherman Charge into the satchel, an aloksak first aid kit into the backpack, filled the waterbag in the backpack and threw in a few bottles as well, a roll of plastic rap and a few non perishable food items from the kitchen, a single person tent, another change of clothes and some boots finished off the backpack. Just for preparedness sake I grab a few carabiners and clip them onto the harness.

"Duct tape"

I grab a role and hook a large carabiner to the ductape and onto the backpacks handle.

"This bag is gonna be heavy"

I say as I put my Kimber 1911 into the holster on the harness. I look at my gun cabinet and think if I need more guns.

"Too much weight"

Except for my Remington AR platform all of my guns were for hunting and were too unwieldy so I decided less was more. Still it would suck to leave all this ammo so I throw ten of each kind into my satchel, leaving some for anyone who'd need it. Slinging my backpack over my harness and grabbing my satchel I head for the door. I put on my running shoes grab my Remington and car keys and open the back door.

"Oh Shit!"

As soon as I open the door I'm charged by a zombie. It knocks me down trying to bite my neck, thank god for my Backpack's straps. It gnaws briefly at the polyester before pulling it's head back to make another lunge. I snake my hand under it's chin clamping it's jaws shut with my forearm and grab it's head. It struggles heavily but it's not very strong. I roll the zombie over onto it's back and sit on whats left of it's chest still holding it in place. I take my hand off it's head, still pushing it's neck with my other hand, reach for my Kershaw every day carry knife and thrust it in through his eye socket upwards into the brain.

"Thank god for paranoid preparedness"