Free MZS: D. C. (Metropolitan Zombie Survivors Book 4) by K. D. McAdams

Basically we’re going to follow road signs that say south or west,” I say, explaining my loose semblance of a plan.
    There are no winners or losers in this argument. Conventional wisdom for surviving the zombie apocalypse doesn’t exist. When anyone tells me what I’m supposed to do, I know they are full of shit.
    I tried moving to be near family. Settling down and finding a real job were part of my plan. Making sacrifices and growing up were part of my daily thinking. Now look where I am.
    A boring job where I spend my day in a cube farm suddenly sounds fantastic. Having work that you can do every day without taxing the brain would be refreshing. The day job would take care of my security by providing money that I could turn into necessities.
    All the pressure from family and friends caused me to miss the real goal of finding a job. Looking for the perfect opportunity in the perfect field was doomed to fail. What I should have been looking for was something that I could live with. A tolerable job would still leave the opportunity to pursue my interests outside of work.
    What you are supposed to do is be happy. The problem is that too many people tell you what the acceptable means to happiness are. A house, a dog, kids, or some combination of those that is basically the same is supposed to deliver the classic American dream. But it doesn’t.
    It’s not just family, either. Every marketing campaign basically pulls on the strings of traditional family values. Movies try and convince you that finding that perfect someone will fulfill your life and deliver happiness. Restaurants make the bar area shady so that good people with families aren’t distracted by the crazy people who want to eat or drink alone.
    The problem is that the harder I look, the more difficult it is to find. Like when I’ve lost my keys or wallet. When I search frantically, I can’t seem to find anything. Stopping the search and quieting down to just be can sometimes make the missing item to spring into view.
    That must be where I am with McLean. The zombie hordes made me stop looking for my future. Now that I am not obsessing over finding the right girl, McLean stands out as perfect in a way she never did before.
    It’s hard to say that I’m happy with all the death that is occurring, but maybe this is what I was supposed to do. Survive with friends, fall in love, and start to rebuild the population.
    Maybe it’s time to restate my goals and let them get bigger. Be happy and protect McLean oddly feel within reason. They are specific enough to be measurable but abstract enough to allow for wiggle room. Now I have permission to do what I want to do and not what I am supposed to do.

 
McLean
     

Chapter 10
     
     
    I’ve been planning my life since I was in seventh grade. I can remember researching local art classes and telling my mother how to sign up. The first year was a little tricky, not knowing traffic patterns and distances from home, but I soon figured it out.
    Delayed gratification and working toward a goal came naturally to me. My dad worked so hard at his startup for years before he could sit back and enjoy the fruits of his success. I must have learned my drive from him. But now what?
    There is nothing left to plan and not much to strive for. What good is survival without the hope of something more? Summers in Europe are most definitely not in my future. Even a simple weekend getaway probably won’t happen again.
    Plan, evaluate, and execute defined my approach to life. It sounds cold and harsh—no wonder I struggled to find a guy that would fit in my life. I guess a little off-the-cuff living could have opened up my opportunities.
    In college I don’t even remember going out to a friend’s house and not knowing where I would sleep. When a friend told me there was no plan for coming home or that they weren’t sure where I could spend the night, I wouldn’t go. It wasn’t that I was afraid; it was more that I didn’t want to