Woke up late. No time to waste—I still need a bag. Every trip out, every risk I take, and still nothing. It’s frustrating, like the world is playing some cruel joke on me. But I can’t give up. Not now.
Grabbed my crowbar and stepped outside. Planned to hit the gas station first, but then I spotted the factory across the road. A massive, rusted building, standing like a relic of the past. It looked untouched, maybe even full of supplies. Maybe today would be different. Maybe today, I'd finally catch a break.
The air was thick with the stench of decay—the bodies of zeds I’d taken down over the last few days, now bloated and reeking in the summer heat. I swallowed back the nausea and pressed forward. The factory’s parking lot stretched before me, littered with LectroMax manufacturing vans. Rows of them, sitting still and abandoned. If just one of them worked, it could change everything.
Popped a few trunks, hoping for supplies. Then, jackpot—a gas can, already filled. My fingers tightened around the handle as a rush of relief hit me. First win of the day. Now, I just had to find the right van. After checking a few, I spotted one in solid condition, barely any rust, windows intact. Held my breath as I opened the glove box—there it was. The key, waiting for me. I exhaled a shaky laugh. Maybe, just maybe, luck wasn’t dead yet.
Pushed my luck and went inside the factory. The silence was unsettling. No moans, no shuffling feet. Just the sound of my own breathing and the quiet thud of my footsteps echoing through the vast, empty space. My heart pounded in my chest, each step making me more aware of how alone I was in here. The locker area was a ghost town—dusty benches, scattered papers, nothing of value. Then I found the storage section. Stacks of iron ingots, rows of tool handles, shelves lined with industrial junk. Things that once had purpose but were now just dead weight. I exhaled, disappointed but not surprised. Even in a place full of supplies, I still couldn’t find what I needed.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
A lone zed wandered down the hallway, its lifeless eyes scanning the empty space. I kept my distance, heart pounding, not wanting to risk the noise. Slipping past, each step felt heavier than the last. This place had nothing for me—no bag, no real supplies. But I had a van now. That alone made everything worth it.
Made it back to the van and drove home, the hum of the engine the only sound breaking the silence. No zeds clawing at the doors, no frantic escapes. For once, everything went smoothly. Almost too smoothly. It felt wrong to have a day without struggle, like the world was setting me up for something worse. But for now, I let myself enjoy the quiet victory.
Pulled into base and hid the van inside the repair shop’s garage. This was a game-changer. A working vehicle meant freedom—more mobility, more storage, a way to escape if things ever got too bad. But security came first. I barricaded the front door, sealing off the entrance I once relied on. From now on, the garage would be my way in and out—a controlled entry, safer, smarter. It was a small but necessary change, another step toward making this place truly mine.
By 8 PM, I was back out again, walking through the empty streets under the dimming sky. The hunt for fuel wasn’t just about convenience—it was survival. Every drop meant more freedom, more choices, more time. I hit every spot I could think of—the diner, the gas station, the trailer park, the factory, even the garage storage lots. Each stop meant waiting, listening, watching. Every siphon was a risk, every second exposed could be my last. Three long hours passed, my muscles aching, my nerves on edge. But when I finally looked at what I had gathered—a good stockpile of fuel—I knew it was worth it. This wasn’t just gas. It was a lifeline, a chance to keep moving forward.
By the time I got back, exhaustion weighed heavy on me. My arms ached, my legs felt like lead, but today was different. For once, there were no close calls, no desperate fights—just quiet, steady progress. It felt strange, almost unreal, to have a day where things actually went right. Maybe, just maybe, luck was finally on my side.
Maybe things are finally turning around.
Plans for Tomorrow:
- Finally find a bag. This is getting ridiculous.
- The town is calling, but am I ready for it?
- Look for more secure ways to reinforce the repair shop.
- Gather more supplies—food, water, anything useful.
End of Day 5