It's the 27th. The fight to
stay alive continues. I took
out several zombies who managed
to break through the barricades.
Now I'm cutting through the
chill with whisky, unloading my
Mossberg on anything undead.
That shotgun became a close
friend of mine. I've blasted
many a zombie into fertilizer
with it.

We've lost 13 men as of
yesterday. In 3 hours, we'll
bicker over trivial things in
the meeting room. It's a total
waste of time. When I finish
this bottle, my old friend
Mossberg will be turning one
last body into fertilizer.
Peace at last.
I can hardly wait...