Done in a meeting, published 1.5 months later. Please pardon me constantly using the topic of a zombie apocalypse to write, its pretty much my backup topic in case I have nothing else.
Its every man for himself. There is no one else who I can trust. If you are still alive, it means you have supplies, which is reason enough for someone to put a 50 millimetre piece of lead in your head. You would think that our thriving communities would work together. You would think that it would take more than a few slow moving, rotting corpses to disrupt order and create pandemonium in every city. Big surprise; the world isn’t what you think it is anymore. Logic and reason sumersaulted out of the window as soon as corpses walked of their own free will. Any plans anyone thought of to combat the virus were crippled when people, their only weapon against the virus, started killing each other for a bottle of water or a can of beans. We can’t beat these things individually, but its hard to talk sense to a person pointing a fully loaded M1A4 at your head, demanding in a high pitched, panicked voice for your weapons, ammunition and supplies, or else. So, with a heavy sigh, I willingly surrender for the third time this fortnight one of my only two possessions; a clip of ammunition for some random gun I hoped I would find later on. They all let me keep my crappy rucksack. They know they could barely hold a piece of paper in it without it falling out. As I walked out of the building, I chided myself for venturing into the city again. Maybe one of these days, someone will listen to reason. Eh, probably not,