Derrick yawned and glanced out the window of his two story house, watching the undead walk by, not aware of him. He yawned again and grabbed a breakfast bar, his eyes blurry. He checked on the barricade that was on the stairs, making sure it wouldn't give way anytime soon. He checked his watch and took a shower, drying off and making sure the R700 was loaded and ready, his hunting rifle's bullets on the table next to it, the gun laying in the corner. He sighed and did his daily duties, then pulled a chair up to the window and watched the undead limp, drag, crawl.

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