arrow would make it with the two bars attached.
He picked up the binoculars and looked over the area where he had seen the arm picking berries. It was about five minutes later when he saw the arm once again reach out and take more berries.
He looked around for a target. He had been practicing with the bow in the warehouse, but he wasn’t sure how much good that had done him. He spotted a tree about ten feet from the berry patch He hoped that would be a big enough target. He also hoped the arrow wouldn’t drift to the left and strike the person he was trying to make contact.
Tony stood at the window and pulled back on the bow. He aimed high in the air to try to give the arrow a high enough trajectory to travel the entire distance to the edge of the clearing. He pulled the string back as far as he could until the granola bars scraped against the bow.
This was as far as he could pull back the string. He angled the bow higher trying to compensate. Finally he let go. He watched the arrow travel through the air. It was flying straight, so he could stop worrying about it going wide and killing the person he wanted to contact. The distance however was short. The arrow dug into the ground about ten feet in front of the tree, about fifteen feet before the tree line in the field.
“Damn!” Tony said to himself. “With all the dead in front of the warehouse, he doubted whoever was out there would dare to venture out into the open to retrieve the food.”
Tony decided against shooting another arrow. He felt the one he did shoot was the best he could do. The distance was just too far for the arrow to travel with the food and note attached.
He picked up the binoculars and watched.
About an hour had passed and Tony was ready to give up.
He would watch again tomorrow. Maybe he would try again tomorrow. The next time he would try it with only one granola bar taped to the arrow. Maybe that would give him the extra ten feet he had needed to reach the tree.
Tony crawled into his sleeping bag and reached under the inflatable raft for his pen and pad.
The raft chirped as he pulled the pad out from underneath it. He made a mental note that when he did venture out from the warehouse not to take an inflatable raft to sleep on. The sleeping bag would be enough. The raft made too much noise.
He began to write his thoughts for the day.
“It is day twenty-two at the warehouse. I had a good day with the pellet gun. I think I eliminated forty of the dead today. Farmer George is still there but I didn’t waste any pellets on him today. I think it is best to use the pellets on the less formidable for now. Today for the first time, I finally spotted another living person. I tried to use the bow and arrow to send them out some granola bars and a note introducing myself. I’m afraid the arrow didn’t go far enough. Hopefully I will see them again tomorrow. It felt so good to know I am not alone in this screwed up world.”
Chapter 4
Tony once again woke up to find the intense heat radiating down on him from the tin roof above.
He slid out of his sleeping bag and into his blue jogging pants. He would wait to put his football jersey on when he went down into the warehouse. The jersey felt good yesterday, but this morning it was just too warm to wear it now. Maybe when he went down to the floor he would go find a cooler t-shirt to wear in this heat.
Tony got up and walked over to the window and looked down. Farmer George staggered through the group wandering around below. He watched as George made his way through the middle of the mob. Smaller zombies were bounced out of his way and often fell to the ground as he passed by them.
Tony had to resist the urge to get one of his weapons and start shooting at George. He had always hated bullies. The way George rambled through the crowd, he reminded Tony of a bully. More evidence that zombies didn’t think. If they had half a brain they would gang up on George.
Tony laughed to
He picked up the binoculars and looked over the area where he had seen the arm picking berries. It was about five minutes later when he saw the arm once again reach out and take more berries.
He looked around for a target. He had been practicing with the bow in the warehouse, but he wasn’t sure how much good that had done him. He spotted a tree about ten feet from the berry patch He hoped that would be a big enough target. He also hoped the arrow wouldn’t drift to the left and strike the person he was trying to make contact.
Tony stood at the window and pulled back on the bow. He aimed high in the air to try to give the arrow a high enough trajectory to travel the entire distance to the edge of the clearing. He pulled the string back as far as he could until the granola bars scraped against the bow.
This was as far as he could pull back the string. He angled the bow higher trying to compensate. Finally he let go. He watched the arrow travel through the air. It was flying straight, so he could stop worrying about it going wide and killing the person he wanted to contact. The distance however was short. The arrow dug into the ground about ten feet in front of the tree, about fifteen feet before the tree line in the field.
“Damn!” Tony said to himself. “With all the dead in front of the warehouse, he doubted whoever was out there would dare to venture out into the open to retrieve the food.”
Tony decided against shooting another arrow. He felt the one he did shoot was the best he could do. The distance was just too far for the arrow to travel with the food and note attached.
He picked up the binoculars and watched.
About an hour had passed and Tony was ready to give up.
He would watch again tomorrow. Maybe he would try again tomorrow. The next time he would try it with only one granola bar taped to the arrow. Maybe that would give him the extra ten feet he had needed to reach the tree.
Tony crawled into his sleeping bag and reached under the inflatable raft for his pen and pad.
The raft chirped as he pulled the pad out from underneath it. He made a mental note that when he did venture out from the warehouse not to take an inflatable raft to sleep on. The sleeping bag would be enough. The raft made too much noise.
He began to write his thoughts for the day.
“It is day twenty-two at the warehouse. I had a good day with the pellet gun. I think I eliminated forty of the dead today. Farmer George is still there but I didn’t waste any pellets on him today. I think it is best to use the pellets on the less formidable for now. Today for the first time, I finally spotted another living person. I tried to use the bow and arrow to send them out some granola bars and a note introducing myself. I’m afraid the arrow didn’t go far enough. Hopefully I will see them again tomorrow. It felt so good to know I am not alone in this screwed up world.”
Chapter 4
Tony once again woke up to find the intense heat radiating down on him from the tin roof above.
He slid out of his sleeping bag and into his blue jogging pants. He would wait to put his football jersey on when he went down into the warehouse. The jersey felt good yesterday, but this morning it was just too warm to wear it now. Maybe when he went down to the floor he would go find a cooler t-shirt to wear in this heat.
Tony got up and walked over to the window and looked down. Farmer George staggered through the group wandering around below. He watched as George made his way through the middle of the mob. Smaller zombies were bounced out of his way and often fell to the ground as he passed by them.
Tony had to resist the urge to get one of his weapons and start shooting at George. He had always hated bullies. The way George rambled through the crowd, he reminded Tony of a bully. More evidence that zombies didn’t think. If they had half a brain they would gang up on George.
Tony laughed to
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