I don't talk much.
Silent. I talk when I have something important to say.
A backpack with food, water, some flashlights. A shotgun and a crowbar. Another bag with camping gear. For when I need to rest.
I worked as a scientist before the zombie apocalypse hit, I was at home and watched reports of a virus on the news. A week later, I woke up to go to work, My answering machine had 30 messages, they all had something to do with zombies attacking them, or telling me to meet them in numerous places. It was Halloween the night before, so I thought it was a joke. That was until my neighbour was going through my trash, in my garage. Eating discarded meat, growling. He noticed me and attacked. I eventually had to bash his skull in with a crowbar next to my car. Then I realised this was the beginning of the apocalypse. I've been travelling for weeks. I'm still alive.