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Otto peered out of the crack in his boarded-up apartment window at the hundreds of rows of figures below him. Their silhouettes were lit up by the burning, setting sun and he thankfully couldn’t make out the horrid details of their blank stares or decaying bodies. Apart from the odd sway, he could have mistaken them for statues if he had not known the truth.
The day it started seemed like so long ago – how long had it actually been? About a week, maybe two. It was getting harder to keep track of time as the days began to melt together. Not as bad as the years that passed at his droning office job, though, he thought. He had reminded himself a lot of that fact since the zombie apocalypse had begun.
His job had involved tireless hours that had put a strain on his body. As he moved away from the window and bent down to inspect the security of the wooden panels shielding his window, he happily noted that his body was still more full of energy than it had ever been working there.
He frowned slightly as he felt the splintering details of the bottom panels from the near break-in that had occurred the day before. It was in need of some refurbishment and repairs. He knew his defensive measures needed to increase to keep up with the growing zombie population. At least given the circumstances, it wasn’t hard to find a hardware store within walking distance from Bentleigh. No point waiting for staff to check in before you started browsing during an event like this.
He made a mental list of the other building supplies he would have to pick up. His plumbing and electrical had been sorted out a few days earlier and food was still plenty in stock. Whilst he was there it would be smart to pick up a few spare sheets of metal, a hammer and nails, a new saw and maybe some tools and batteries depending on what was still available in the ghost town that had once been bustling, suburban Cheltenham. Timber was definitely at the top of the ‘need’ list – when you were locked inside for days, you picked up activities to clear your head pretty quickly. It had become a somewhat occupying hobby for him to spend his spare time woodworking.
Otto took one last peer out of the window and then glanced up toward the setting sky. There was still about an hour left before dark. He found that, for whatever reason, the zombies entered a somewhat sleepful resting state around golden hour. Making sure his DIY armour (a protective layer of knee pads, skateboard helmet and thick jacket) was secure, he opened his apartment door and silently prayed for the trip to go smoothly.
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