Chapter 3

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This is the end. For those who would call it that, this is the end. Not to get all deep and shit, but I would rather say it was a new beginning. For those of us left alive, that is.
The people who are dead, they're just. You know. Dead. And stuff.
Perhaps some religious nut would call my bluff, proclaim the beginning of a new life in good old Jesus Christ. But I  won't be hearing it, because - Guess what! - the religious nut is dead now, too. Poor bastard. Couldn't preach his way out of that one. Oh well. I hope he found happiness in, well, wherever the hell he went. Who knows? I wouldn't. I'm not dead.
In any case, I don't think God was the one who made this mess, so I won't be focusing on Him for long. If he exists, good for him.
Real good.
All of you are probably now pissed at me for the whole religion thing, but who cares. This world isn't about religion anymore. Not even about blame. Blame takes away from time for actions, and having no time to act gets you killed, eaten, or worse.
This world takes its own time now, even if that means taking yours, mine, or the hot guy's next door.
No time for laments, pissiness, whining, complaining. In other words, no time for being an idiot.
Idiocy gets you eaten, as I always say.
The zombies don't accept excuses. They don't accept anything, other than you in between their unspeaking, unrelenting, infecting jaws.
So, woman up! Get a gun, learn to use it if you don't know how for lack of sane parents. Find a knife, sword, spear, axe, get used to getting in close to the undead to use them. If you can, get a bow or crossbow. They have reusable ammo, and will last longer if you use them correctly.
Wish you the best of luck in the land of rot!
Try hard, die hard.

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