Dark Recollections Read Online Free PDF Page B

the Red Sea. I’m a big dude, and frequently people see me and my tattoos and I get a wide berth anyway, but this was an adult-strength wide berth. 20 feet solid. That kinda felt good. I was getting a hardcore adrenaline rush the whole time and I’m not gonna lie, it felt kind of good.
    I scooped my groceries into the trunk of my car, topping it off. I grabbed the box of shotgun shells from the passenger seat of my car, loaded a replacement shell in for the one I just shot, and got in the car.
    Next stop: Friends and family.

    See you soon Mr. Journal.

    -Adrian

October 7 th

    I am kinda bored Mr. Journal. Instead of my planned once weekly entries I’m doubling up this week. I know I’ve got enough gas to power the generator to keep me in heat and electricity for winter so I can waste a little juice on keeping the laptop running.
    It’s Thursday, I just ate some lunch, and things are pretty good here. Got my deck fully reinforced and I pulled up all the stairs leading off of it. Now there’s no way they can get in via that entrance. Hall E has all the windows on the first floor barred up adequately and the fire doors are strong enough to hold back a siege. I’ve also got clear lines of sight to all entrance to pick off a ton of Zombies should things get desperate. I have a lot of lumber left over as well so I’m starting to think of what else I should really be reinforcing. I don’t know yet, this place is pretty huge and I don’t want to waste the wood.
    Otis is well, nice of you to ask. I’m definitely wishing I had grabbed more cat food for him though. I only thought to grab two large bags of food, and that’s getting low. I know I can share my food with him, but that’s not ideal cat food, ya know? I guess eventually I’ll have to seriously consider a run back into town to restock. There has to be food still in town somewhere, and I can’t imagine that our residents thought to grab up all the cat food. In all honesty, I really ought to start formulating a plan to get down there as soon as possible. I’m starting to notice food choices are getting slim at dinner, and if there are other survivors in town, I want to make sure I get the food before them. Selfish, but it’s the reality now. I’m as likely to get shot and killed by another living person as I am to get eaten alive by the undead.
    I’ll start to look at my options this week. I can tell it’s gonna be a pisser of a winter, and I don’t want to have to leave here in a snowstorm. I should also stop by my house and get more of my own stuff. I’ll be cooped up inside for most of the coming winter and I don’t want to get stir crazy. It’s entirely possible boredom might drive me to desperate measures, and I’d rather cut that off at the pass.
    What to talk about? Me? The past? More of the story from the day it all started? I don’t really want to say much about myself. I think we are all delusional about our self image anyway. What I type in this little journal will be just a vision of myself, not a real accounting of reality. I guess eventually I’ll have to say something, but for now, go fly a kite. You already know my name, my height, and that I’ve got a lot of tattoos. I also mentioned briefly that I had experience with violence. I worked concert security and did bouncing for 13 years on the weekends. I also did some bodyguard work here and there, and did my stint in the Army. Plus Dad and three brothers were all military so that was my culture at home. Anyway, I’m feeling like dropping more history now about the day the world ended, so let’s get that ball rolling.
    Ha, had to open my last journal entry to see where I left off. So by the time I got all my groceries into my truck it was 6pm. I figured I had another solid hour of twilight before dark, and I really wanted to be done here in town before it was dark. The thought of wandering around in the dark with the undead wandering still sends ice water through my veins. I checked