Free K. T. Swartz by Zombie Bowl Page A

her layers on. There were mornings where her dreams drew her back to the life she had, only for her to find herself alone and trapped in this horrible nightmare when she woke. Knowing this was reality made her sick.
     
    ‘Sure, I can stay in my hole, live the rest of my life behind the impenetrable walls of my firehouse – and I’ve known people who have – but safety, as I know, is a poison. Once someone believes they’re safe, the rest of the world becomes too dangerous to circulate in. Leaving can get them killed, so why do it? And there they waste away, too terrified to do the simplest things. Too many good people have lost themselves, trapped in their ‘safe’ havens, to the point where it drives them crazy, attacking both friend and family because suddenly everything is a threat. These mini-fortresses I create always have that allure of ‘safety’. It whispers the dream of long years and no more fighting, but I can’t listen. I refuse.
    I have only good excuse, but it works every time. Jeremy.’
     
    • excerpt from August 30 th entry
     
    She ducked back inside. Changed her clothes. Today was a dangerous day. While the hardware store was relatively empty and easily accessible, while she had some food stocked at the trailer and the fire station, she still needed more. Danville had two major grocery/department stores close by and several more smaller stores on the outskirts of town. The biggest – All-Mart – would have the larger assortment. Both a good and bad thing. The second largest – Roger’s – wouldn’t; it didn’t have a garden center, nor did it have a hunting department, and she needed more bullets.
    She rolled a cherry around in her mouth, split it in half with her tongue. Worked the seed free and spat it into the trashcan.
     
    ‘In the hierarchy of food acquisition, convenience store supplies went first, being easy to access. When that ran out, people started hitting small grocery stores. The smaller ones are usually safer than the bigger ones. When those dry up, people move on to houses. But the large stores were pretty much left alone, because – well – the bigger the store, the greater the number of zombies. But necessity is necessity.
    Normally I don’t hit stores like All-Mart, but as its name suggests, it has everything. True, I can visit a bunch of smaller stores, thereby diminishing my chances of being overwhelmed, but there’s a chance they’re already picked clean. I don’t have the patience for wasted trips. Foolish human emotion, I know, but I’m ready for a little zombie slaughter. I’m sick of looking at my hometown and knowing these monsters are poisoning it. I want my home and my family back. I guess one out of two isn’t bad.’
     
    • excerpt from August 30 th entry
     
    She drove down the hill, parked in Morrow’s lot. Took out her binoculars. With a store as large as All-Mart, a different strategy for attack was needed. She knew the store like the back of her hand, had spent years grocery shopping there. Like Morrow’s, it was a giant warehouse, with exposed metal beams and ductwork high overhead. It was divided into sections: Groceries, Electronics, Toys, Clothing, Automotive, House wares… The easiest plan was to sneak into the building and cause a distraction to draw all the zombies into one area. If she had the ingredients, she could make a few more pipe bombs. Unfortunately some of those items were at All-Mart.
    What if she rigged the shelves to fall when a large number of zombies collected under them? Possible, but that would require a lot of prep-work and a few too many chances to attract attention. She could always find a high place in the store, like the bike rack and snipe whatever zombies came within range, but she could be there all day waiting for them to show, and the likelihood of finding a secure spot was minimal without being too far from the targets, not to mention lost the dark. Sneak attacks were probably the quietest method, but