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 Apocalypse Rising: Dylan's Journey. (From the Journal of Mark Filson)

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Trent Washington

Trent Washington

Aries Cat
Posts : 185
Join date : 2013-10-13
Age : 20

Apocalypse Rising: Dylan's Journey. (From the Journal of Mark Filson) Empty
PostSubject: Apocalypse Rising: Dylan's Journey. (From the Journal of Mark Filson)   Apocalypse Rising: Dylan's Journey. (From the Journal of Mark Filson) Icon_minitimeSat Mar 08, 2014 10:29 pm

Day 2.
Time:6:00 Pm.
Amount of Food and Water: Four bags of beef jerky, one half eaten box of cereal. Eight bottles of water, two bottles of "Sprite" and "Crush" soda. One first aid kit.
Weapons: One baseball bat. One Crowbar. Two Makarovs, twelve Mags total. One Machete. Two Hammers.
(Written from Mark's perspective)

- Dylan has become quiet now. He has put down about ten of the "Dead" Things now. It hit him the hardest, which is unexpected since he knew of this being possible, he must have not really put much thought into it. We are now in a small town outside of Olke. I figured this was a good time to being writing. The past two days have been harsh. Carolina has been the life of the group I should say, trying her best to keep our spirits up as we trudge through the now abandoned town. Scavenging for supplies and anything we could use. Dylan is on the roof of this small shack we are 'sleeping' in, if we can even bare to call sitting up all night waiting for dawn 'sleep'. Carolina sits across from me in the corner. Looking out at the stars above through a small skylight, she is worried about Dylan, as am I. He barely eats, Doesn't eat, or drink until Carolina and I have had our fill. He know's what he's doing, only speaking occasionally to give orders. "Search through there." "Hide here while I check the area out." And the occasional side joke, which isn't really a joke mostly. Just a remark he makes at sudden things. He plans to take us to the old ruins down south. Make a small shelter, live there until this all blows over. That's a unrealistic dream of course, we'd need a working car, enough gas to make the estimated one thousand mile trudge down south. All of the cars we have come across so far are either long since broken down, or in total ruin. I will continue this journal, for now I am going to go up and check on Dylan. I hear him speaking, well. Muttering about something.
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Apocalypse Rising: Dylan's Journey. (From the Journal of Mark Filson)
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