ladyvyola: an orange pansy against a bright blue background (Default)
Truer words were never spoken: You don't have to outrun the zombies, you just have to outrun the neighbors.

As I live with my parents in an "active senior living" community, I can outrun just about everybody around here. And should a widow with a bad hip get zombified instead of me, I'm not going to mourn. I'm just gonna be glad that she kept postponing that replacement surgery.

The golf cart I... appropriated... from the club is coming in handy. 9hp seems to be enough to run over the various canine zomboids coming out of the hedges -- thank heavens that most of the seniors go for lap dogs. But even the toy sizes are a threat for the unwary. I saw the gate guard go down under a slow-moving mass of Yorkies and Shih Tzus. I may never eat hamburger again.

The doors are barred, the windows barracaded, the golf cart gassed up. If we can't hold out here, I'm packing up my parents and making a run for my brother's. He's only five miles away. With me at the wheel, Mom serving as spotter, and Dad wielding his cane, I figure we can take on whatever's out there.

Six hours to sunrise. Good luck to whoever's still alive and reading this.