It was a sunny, cool day around the settlement. A few clouds were in the sky, but none large enough to block out the late morning sunshine. Ten o'clock AM on a Wednesday, the eighteenth of November, though days and months mattered little in the post apocalyptic world the survivors were unfortunate enough to find themselves in. They were now just a way for the people who still kept track of them to ready themselves for the changing seasons. Winter would be upon them in a few weeks, and the many pessimists assumed that it would be a terrible one to come.

It was a quiet morning, as a few crows flapped their black wings over town, their eyes on the people below, the birds were in search of any carrion in the area. There was none of that to be found in the settlement. It had been almost a week since the settlement had to deal with a dead person, they had since burnt and buried the corpse away from town. But there was a buzz in the air among the people of the settlement, food supplies were starting to run low, they would need to send out a scavenging party, maybe others to hunt for wildlife in the dangerous area that was around them.

---

Logan Walsh moved through town like a man on a mission, with each footstep his green eyes scanned the sights in front of him. He was an early riser, always had been, the change to a post apocalyptic world had only invigorated that in him. The thoughts in his mind were focused on the food, their supply of rations was dwindling by the day, but the thought of assembling a party to go out and find food always scared the cautious man.

He walked into the beaten wooden house across from the towering church, pushing open the front door as he entered, it popping open with a creak. When he had originally come upon the abandoned settlement, the door was off the hinges outside of the building. Some of the Haven's residents put it back onto its hinges but the creaking was something that wasn't addressed.

The house had become a sleeping area for some of the settlement's residents, it had a roof over most of it, that was enough for the people that took shelter within its walls. He walked into a room, what used to be a den, and found his own daughter Alexandra on the floor, her hands holding a book as she turned a page. Though her beautiful blue eyes focused on her father as he entered the room with a knock. Her eyes were always something that made him somber to look upon, they were like his wife's own ocean blue irises.

"I'm surprised your awake, how long have you been up?" Logan asked her as he leaned against the door frame.

"A couple of hours, I don't sleep that well anymore." Alexandra replied as her blue eyes drifted back to the book.

"What are you reading?"

"Some old book I found in one of the bedrooms, its about this college kid that left his old life behind to live in the woods up in Alaska." She said.

"That would be a nice place to live with all of the zombies running around." Logan said with a smile.

"Yeah, well he died because he was totally unprepared to live there. It's sad."

"I'm sure. But you can't sit around and read all day, what were you going to do today?"

"Well, I heard that we're running out of food. I thought that I could volunteer to go out and search for some?" She said, her words turning into a question directed at her father who was one of the leaders in the settlement.

"No, it's too dangerous. It's a completely different way out there, you never know what or who you will run into. I think you'd be better off helping out Jane or Morgan with the wounded, you'd probably learn something." He said back, his voice with a stern tone to it.

"Come on dad. You know I can help out there, please?" She asked as he popped to her feet and left the book on the floor in the process.

"Still no, we have people that I think would be best at it."

"But you said yourself that everyone has to help out, I can help them." She said, looking right at him with her ocean eyes.

"Yes, you can help, medically. You're a smart kid, I'd love it if you focused that on saving lives. We can never have enough doctors around here." Logan said back, then folded his arms before his daughter stormed past him, upset that her father had shot down the idea.

---

---

Nelson had awaken tied to a branch in a tree at day break like he did every morning, all nestled up inside of his sleeping bag so that he didn't get eaten alive by bugs. He was also high enough that a undead couldn't reach him and nor could any other forms of wildlife. It wasn't a glorious sleep but he would take being safe over being reckless and sleeping on the ground, especially with no one to watch his back. Nelson made sure that he was perfectly leveled on the branch before he opened his sleeping bag and untied the rope from around his waist and legs. Once he had untied himself he let his sleeping bag fall to the ground and dropped the rope so he had less things to carry down the tree with him. It took roughly 15 minutes for Nelson to get untie himself and get out of the tree plus packing all of his sleeping gear before he was ready to continue traveling along the woods. He made sure that his Busse was in the perfect spot on his hip so that it could be withdrawn quickly in case of an emergency. After rapidly drawing his blade twice from its sheath with no issues he figured that he was ready to continue on his journey.

Nelson wasn't 100% where he was going since he didn't have a map since he had been chased by undead and wasn't entirely sure how to get back to his vehicle safely. Every time that he tried to circle around and get back he would run into another damn zombie so eventually he had abandoned the idea and started to walk in the direction that he knew would take him to civilization eventually. Not nearly two months after seeing the first one, it also didn't help that he was limited to traveling only by the day light and had to make detours every time there had been numerous numbers of zombies. He would fair alright against one but that was really it given his circumstances.

He had been walking for a few hours now since the sun looked like it was getting near its highest point in the sky and it was throwing off a decent amount of heat today for being mid-November. But Nelson was getting slightly desperate to find some establishment since he really didn't want to get stuck in the woods when the temperatures dropped significantly and snow started to fall. He had heard the sound of a stream that was nearby, he stopped and waited a moment to accurately try and establish where the sound was coming from. Nelson had started to walk towards an elevated level so he could get a slightly better vantage point but while he was on his way he spotted a little bit coming down the rocks on his right side. Nelson followed the water up to find the source of the water so that he could get something better than water dribbled on rocks. He also wanted to do a test before consuming it, so he placed his hands under the water and brought it up to his nose and smelled to see if it had an unusual aroma. It wasn't the most accurate method of testing but it was pretty much all he had for now. The water tasted quite refreshing at the moment and while he was there Nelson also filled up his little 591ml water bottle that he happened to have with him on his last day of work before the awakening of the dead.

Nelson was started to get a little bit tired and sat down on a flat rock for a moment to rest his legs and noticed that there was a slight parting in the trees and looked further down to notice that there was a path. Nelsons heart started to race, a path usually means that you are coming to the entrance of an area. Nelson got up immediately and walked towards the opening in the tree line however when he got there he had noticed that there was a zombie looking back at him from beside a tree. As if his heart wasn't racing before, now it was for a different reason. Normally Nelson would have avoided a zombie since he would rather be safe than sorry but now that he found a path that could potentially lead him out of this forest he wasn't going to let that chance pass him by. Nelsons right hand slowly reached down to his waist where his 10" Busse was sitting in its sheath and popped it open and drawn his blade. He had the blade raised and was ready to take out this zombie swiftly but when he tried to quietly approach it he didn't notice the twig on the ground since he was so focused on the zombie that the twig snapped under Nelsons weight. It might have only been a small twig but the zombie heard it and turned his attention to Nelson and started to approach him at a pace that was about average for one of them. He knew that he would have to time his swing perfectly so that he could lob off its head without any risk to himself. When the zombie got an arm length and a half away Nelson took a swing as hard as he could at the moment and thankfully made contact with the zombies head cutting it clean in half. The blood from the zombie had splattered all over his shirt, pants, boots and neck. He was thrilled that he defeated it and could get onto the path but he had hoped to avoid getting all full of it. So before he made it on the path he rubbed as much of it off his clothes and body as possible.

Nelson was half walking half running with excitement, he had loved the woods but he would like a slight break from it since it has been two straight months since he was left the woods. It was twenty minutes but he still didn't see an end to the trees and his excitement slightly deteriorated and his pace slowed down however he continued to walk. Twenty more minutes had passed of walking but still nothing had changed, trees trees and more damn trees! He was about ready to take a break since he used a little more energy since he foolishly half ran for about twenty minutes but he thought he would take once more small walk before taking a break. Nelson had walked for a little bit longer before all of a sudden the tree line broke and his heart was pounding again, half for seeing an end to the forest but he also thought that he could have found an establishment since he could make out the steeple of a church. Nelson ran as fast as his body would allow with his amount of energy to the edge of the trees and stopped to gaze delightfully down at the little group of buildings that surrounded the church that he given him this immense hope. Nelson stood there for a few moments looking over the town, he had wiped the sweat that was rolling down his face. The only thing was that he was so excited that he found anything other than trees and a few cabins in the woods that he was covered in blood from killing that zombie roughly an hour ago. He had wiped more of it onto his face and had smeared dried up blood on his neck and even more dried blood on his shirt. He was also so tired and running low on energy that he was dragging his feet a little bit as he walked down the path that would bring him smack dab into the town center. Yes that is right, Nelson didn't noticed covered in blood emerging from the woods walking funny down a hill ... just like an undead.

Joseph Reed & Winifred Turner. Haven.

Night terrors were common. For those who had survived this far and had not let the undead drag them down or the looters and murders take their life from them, night terrors was a quite a common occurrence. Haven was full of survivors - those who had to commit unthinkable acts to keep themselves alive. There was no blame or judgement on their shoulders, survival was not an easy task when it was you against the world. Haven saved them from that.

Joseph Reed was no stranger to night terrors, or even lucid dreams. On good nights, he would see his farm in it's prime. Crops reaching for the clear blue sky, livestock crooning with delight, the sun smiling down at him and the life he had made for himself and his family. His wife would be down at the pond dipping her toes in the chilled water to keep herself cool during the scorching summer day. His son would be strolling through the fields, surveying the crops and running his tender hands across the leafs that displayed themselves like works of art.

On bad nights, the fields would be bare. The livestock dead or starving, nothing but miserable clouds towering above the farm. And Margaret and Tom would be tied up in the stable, blood dripping from their jaws and the calcium clouded in their eyes. They would growl at Joseph, almost hiss his very name. And nothing could drown out the sound of their gnawing teeth, their demented screeching, their gargling throats. And somehow, in all of it, there was always his name. With every snarl, his name was embedded within the sound.

Joseph!

Joseph!

Joseph!

"Joseph!" Winifred shook the man awake, holding onto the arm that was so tightly clenched. "Joseph, wake up."

His eyes fluttered open. This was here. This was now. On the floor of one of the buildings in Haven, with half conscious members strewn across the floor, half still holding onto their slumber, half already awake. He was safe. Joseph allowed the reality set in, letting go of the nightmare. His body slowly relaxed, his shoulders slumping back. He finally looked over to his adopted daughter, concern written all across her face. She was used to these violent night terrors - they were a regular occurrence. But time nor constant happenings could take away her worry.

"Hey, it's alright," she said soothingly to him, now caressing the arm that she had shaken.

"I know," was all that the bearded man said. Because he did know. Sure, everything around them had literally turned into a man-eat-man world, but Haven made it better. Tolerable. Anything was better than sulking in that lonely farm house or living out of his truck, wondering where their next meal was going to come from. And Joseph need not say more than what he had. Winifred knew too.

"What time is it?" he asked her. Judging by the number of residents that were still sleeping, Joseph reasoned that it couldn't have been that late.

Winifred shrugged. "Dunno. But the run's today."

Joseph gave her a challenging look. "I trust you don't have any bright ideas planned like last time." Despite being told sternly to stay in the town while the adults went out for the run, she managed to tag along, following the group from a distance until they had gotten too far to tell her to go back.

"Nah, I learned my lesson. Even though I held my own just fine without any help for a full two days. You remember that story, right?"

Joseph only blinked at her, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. It was too early for her energy. On mornings such as these, he could still remember the taste of hot coffee seeping down his throat. "I'm gonna get some fresh air," he told her softly, shakily getting to his feet and stepping around the scattered bodies, making his way to the door.

"I'll come with you," Winifred exclaimed, bouncing up to her feet and following him out.

As the man stretched, he sucked in a lung full of the morning air. Sometimes it was hard to believe that this was his life now. Before everything had gone to hell, he was certain he would die on the farm, in the bed that he shared with his wife. He never had any plans of leaving it behind in a fit of walkers and bullets.

"And I mean, you know Johnny's gonna die but you just can't help but think maybe, just maybe this time, he won't die. Like it's a book, you can't change it. But you can hope, you know?" Winifred was rambling on about her book, the only one she had managed to keep with her through all of this. And she had read the damn thing thirteen times through. Sometimes Joseph was convinced she said things just to say it. No real reason behind it, just because she couldn't stand not to say anything.

Her voice seemed to just fade into background noise as Joseph peered out into the open land surrounding the settlement. There were few people out on the streets at this time and it was not often that there was traffic around them. But that morning, Joseph could swear he saw something in the distance. Hobbling along the trail, shuffling it's feet and set straight for Haven.

"But it's not like Dallas can do anything to save him. The guy got stuck in a burning building. But he takes it to-"

"Winnie, do you see that?"

Gata had gotten used to sleepless nights. Hot encloses, where sometimes the sky could peak through the holed roof, filled her mind with heavy white noise. Her eyes failed to close, too terrified of what could be waiting on the inside of her eyelids, and her mouth sucked in raspy breaths. Everything was either too loud or too quiet, and when she couldn't get comfortable she would rise up and continue reading. This routine has continued for many weeks now, even after she had arrived in Haven, even though Gata had silently hoped for all her worries to wash away after arriving into the safest place she had seen in awhile. But no, instead she stares at the rotting ceiling, hugging her journal to her chest as the snores of strangers surround her.

Those noises had since faded, though, as the sun rose and the songs of crows replaced the snores and sighs of sleeping bodies. The cracked windows reflected the colors of orange and pink and white against the rough wood floor, revealing shadows of passing clouds and blowing soft gusts of chilling wind across the room. Morning had finally come, and Gata blinked as people rose around her, ready for another day of preparation. Preparation for, yes, that's right, winter was coming. They didn't have much time left, it seemed.

Gata rose from her makeshift bedspread, rubbing the back of her head as she examined the now half-empty room with strained eyes. No one really around to view her tired face, good, she needed a few moments to perk up after all. Gata slapped her cheeks lightly, sighing loudly before rising to her feet, pulling on her worn boots before stepping off the bedspread and onto the splintered, wooden floor. She had finally arrived to Haven only a mere five days ago, and though they weren't exactly as welcoming as she hoped, they did take her in, and as long as she did her share of the work she would be allowed to stay. A simple trade, a good enough deal to keep Gata around and safe.

She stretched as the floor creaked below her, groaning quietly before glancing down at her current "sleeping" spot. It was quite simple, really, a thick winter coat saved her back from the harsh wood floor, and her canvas bag acted as both a pillow and a luggage. Beside that, her usual clothes were messily folded, ready for another day of being worn for too long. Gata ran a hand through her hair, blinking as the short strands curled around her forehead before pulling together her outfit slowly, as if to waste the day away. Gata silently thanked God for the outfit she had, it was probably the best thing in her possession at the moment. All the materials were thick and heavy and dull in color, perfect for camouflaging among the western landscape and warm to boot. It could probably keep her alive for a good while now. After wrapping the shawl around her shoulder, Gata once again glanced down at her messy bed area. Eh, might as well clean up.

She bent at the waist slightly, shoving her journal back into her old bag and folding the winter jacket until it was small enough to be unassuming. She slung her canvas bag over her shoulder, tucking the coat in wherever it could fit among the various books before heading out towards the main hall.

The house was silent, save for creaking footsteps that formed as her boots clicked against the rotting floor, and Gata found herself feeling a bit anxious about stepping outside again. She wasn't exactly the strongest nor most helpful to the Haven, sure she did well with things like look out or watching the younger kids, but she was in no way one for heavy lifting or building. She didn't have the slightest clue about how she would spend the upcoming days as the others prepped for winter. And then her ears caught the sounds of a conversation. A man and a girl, talking in tones that varied from loving to arguing, discussed the current food shortage problem. Now, scavenging! That was an excellent idea, and Gata could definitely help out with something like that. Before she could enter the den to agree with the idea, someone brushed passed, a young girl probably only a few years younger than herself. Her face read 'annoyed' and her entire posture gave away her disappointment. Poor kid. Gata turned slightly, peering back into the room curiously.

A somewhat familiar back came into a view, the back of an older man who often trudged around Haven with a grim look on his face. What was his name, Leo or something? Gata shrugged to herself before leaning against the door frame, her thin frame twisting slightly as a soft smile met her lips,

"Teenage angst, is it? You know, if you keep sheltering her she may rebel one of these days." Gata warned, images of her old friend from her high school years popping into her head. Poor guy, but it taught her that too much protection and sheltering made the heart grow curious. And reckless. There were lessons to be learned in moments of despair, it seemed. She shifted slightly at the thought, dark eyes wavering over the empty, light-dappled room quickly before once again focusing on Logan, head tilting ever so slightly as she awaited a response, hoping she appeared a cheery as she normally did.

---

A sigh left David as he walked forward, hands shuffled in his pockets, the morning light blaring down on him. David Levitski had been up long before the sunrise, a sort of habit that the aged detective had previously programmed into his everyday functions. The events leading up to where he was now didn’t change it. Apocalypse be damned, it wasn’t going to change how he operated and functioned no matter how old he got. Then there was the thought that he wouldn’t have a choice about it when the time came, especially with the physically demanding role that David lived for decades— eventually at the end of the line it would all catch up with him unless he was exceptionally lucky. David quickly dismissed such a stupid thought.

Because that was what the thought was: stupid.

The chances are that he was already falling apart, he just didn’t know it. He refused to see some “doctor” at the camp they had set up here at Haven, and it wasn’t out of some fear of doctors or medicine; it was out of a feeling of extreme apathy. If he was going out, it was pointless to worry about it and honestly? He couldn’t care any less if it was painful or painless when it came. There was a void out there when it would happen and it wouldn’t really matter one way or the other. This line of thinking wasn’t one that came out often, but when it did it certainly put him harshly against those who believed in heaven and god.

But to David if they had an issue with how he thought it was their problem and not his. Not exactly a “team player” line of thinking, but sometimes you had to be honest with people and not sugarcoat how you felt. That kind of bottled up anxiety only led to you wanting to jump off a cliff and go splat against the pavement below. The sort of anxiety that had caused people to meet their supposed maker plenty of times before… and that was before the epidemic that they called an “apocalypse” happened.

A sigh left David as he walked forward, hands shuffled in his pockets as he heard a commotion in the house across the church-- seemed like they were into it again. Leaning against a shoulder-tall wooden fence he wondered what argument it was about this time… probably the same as last time.

“Again?” He muttered as he waited for the door to fling open.

Andrew Lee

Sitting on the top of an overturned Semi-truck, Andrew always wondered just how intelligent zombies were. How much of "Them" was still left. Themselves, their minds, and spiritually speaking, their souls. There was just so many questions and no answers. Andrew knew what a zombie was: he's seen the movies, the shows, the articles. The idea of a zombie apocalypse had been so ingrained in his mind that he could hardly believe that the world would fall to the undead. Hell, disease was incorporeal and humanity has beaten it back before. But this. This was different. Andrew simply had no idea how to explain how this all happened. Maybe it wasn't his place to do that. But that didn't make him any more at ease.

Andrew waited until the undead horde shambled out of sight. They never bothered to look for him, and as long as he kept quiet they wouldn't. The ones who scream, who shout, who cry, they're the ones that get taken down first. Andrew has learned to value the silence. It was his best defense even with his armor. Once the horde was well away Andrew got off the truck and back onto his bike. It was a good thing zombies had no material value because this bike was certainly top notch: the best he could have looted from a bike store. He was surprised to see the place relatively intact. "Guess people don't know how to ride bikes."

It was much easier to out run the undead on a bike then one foot or using a car. While not exactly as protective, a bike was quiet, and moved him quickly. He's been traveling for only three days since he got the thing, but he's already crossed about thirty miles. And the only time he had to fight a zombie was when one of them literally fell from the roof and onto him. Good thing it had broken it's arms falling down or Andrew would have had to grapple the damn thing. Anyways, Andrew was riding his bike through the ruins of America. Aside from the undead and the traffic, this place looked fairly unchanged. Sometimes he could even see lights. Looters either haven't touched this part of the city or simply know better then to cause too much of a mess.

Sure gangs and such would tag up buildings, break windows, and be a menace, but back then they only had to worry about cops who couldn't just gun them down due to reputation. Zombies had no such limitations. Those gangs that everyone tried to run with tried to fight the zombies. Sure they had guns, but what they lacked was a plan. "Shooting them" was hardly a good long term goal and was was a horrible short-term one. If only they hadn't attracted so many zombies Andrew would have looted them for their weapons. Bullets were about the only valuable thing left now that money was only good for tinder. And Andrew would need something to trade: He just found a settlement.

In the distance about a mile away was a small town. Andrew would have dismissed as a ghost town if he didn't see people milling about from a distance. But he had to be wary: not all small towns were innocent. Looters have also taken up residence in humble homes and despite what video games and movies would have taught him, sometimes the worse type of people look no different from him. The gang he saw didn't wear gang colors or makeshift body armor like he did. They were just a couple of casually dressed guys and girls with guns, trying to fight for their lives. Andrew was certain that they wouldn't look out of place in this little town either. Still it's not as though Andrew had any other options. It was either here or elsewhere, and at least if this place turns out to be a hellhole he could book it later that night. Assuming no one trashes his bike anyways. Taking a deep breath and checking his surroundings, Andrew kicked off his bike and headed towards Haven.

Andrew rode to the gates of Haven. Or some sort of fence door. Honestly, this place just looked like a cheap farming town. The fence was basic, the grass needed to be cut, and the roads could use some work. He supposed that it's not as if they could have done a whole lot within the two-months, but still. One would at least expect a guard or something. Just about anyone could waltz in here. Andrew certainly intended to. Dismounting from his bike Andrew walked passed the gate and headed towards Haven. He looked a bit odd from his armor, so he took off his helmet. He hoped people wouldn't shoot him on the spot. He came in peace after all.

Janette Allen

Janette was up early, as she's wont to do. One of the town "Elders" if only because she really is one of the oldest among them, and one of the few who was still lucid. Janette took care of everyone the best she could, either to help alleviate their ills, or end their pain. She's also taken it upon herself to manage the stock of Haven. Not everyone enjoys rationing their meals, but the reality of the fact was that there was only enough for everyone to get one meal a day. And hardly much either; just a bowl of stew using whatever they could spare.

Haven already had a bit of produce farming going, but that would only last for so long. They mainly grew soybeans and corn here, which at least gave them a supply of grains and protein. But it wouldn't be enough. The harvest wasn't perfect; some corn was diseased and not all the plots yielded anything sustainable. Before the end came this might have not been such a big deal; the owner of the farm would simply sell what he had and still rake in enough money to start over next season. But now the people of Haven needed to live off this stuff. Even if they stuck to rationing with only one meal a day, Janette guessed they would have about a month, maybe 40 days, before they would run out of supplies. Not enough to last through winter. And not enough to sustain the town if more joined them.

Hunting was a risky venture as well. Janette refused to allow anyone to hunt alone: She doesn't care how good of a hunter they think they are. They need a buddy to watch their back and bring back their catch. Not only that but there was also the matter of competition: while deer may be in season there are still plenty of wild animals out there that outnumber the people of Haven 10 to 1, and that's not even including the zombies who'd no doubt be attracted to the sounds of gunfire or the smell of blood. Or other hunters from other settlements looking to bag the same prey. And there was the simply fact that hunting wasn't efficient on it's own. Hunt too many bucks in the forest and they leave, coming back who knows when. Janette had to to limit the trips to once or twice a week, and only within a certain area, to ensure that they had a stable population near by. And then there were the few who thought they could hunt deer with only a knife or other melee weapon. Then they'd get a broken rib because a deer kicked them in the chest, or gored them with their antlers.

Sighing, Janette weighed their options. At a time like this farming was simply the best long term option. But that would take a few months before that yielded anything, and they'd have to get through winter first. Janette couldn't ensure the supply would last that long, and they'd certainly wouldn't be getting any more during the meantime. They needed to stock up while they can, and prep their supplies for the long winter. Janette thought long and hard about what they needed. They needed more then just food: They needed jars, preservatives, wood for fire and blankets to ward off heat. They needed cold weather clothing, shovels to deal with the snow, and many other things. There was just so much to do.

Janette walked out of one of the big houses and headed towards the church. It was usually during the mornings that everyone gathered for their task and a bit of preaching. Most have abandoned god, but Janette was still faithful. Even if he did not exist, even if he really did leave them, what good would it be to make him an enemy? Janette knew her death was near. If not because of the zombies, because her disease. If god was listening, all she wanted from him was for her to be able to pass along what little she knows so that the others could survive.

At the Church's steps Janette started to fill out two separate lists of things which need to be done. She'll need two groups: A hunting group and a foraging group. She'd also need some people to stay to help her harvest what they could from the fields. And lastly, someone to watch over Haven itself. It wouldn't be hard to steal from them if everyone was off trying to make ends meet. So four groups in all. She may have to cut it down to two in fact; there simply wasn't enough people right now that she'd rely on going in separate groups. Still, she'd need to wait here and see who would even get up. If not then she'd have to go knock on some doors and figure out who's still alive and kicking, and who needs to be given their last rites.

Sila Chanthavong

---

"You can make it another day," Sila whispered to himself as he lay on the hard floor of an abandoned home in Haven's center. Haven was the latest encampment that he had come across on his missionary journey to aid survivors in the fight against the undead. Sila sometimes liked to equate his nomadic trek away from his family to the trip that Paul the Apostle took to visit the surrounding areas of Israel, but if he was completely honest with himself, this was just a selfish escapade to keep his mind off of his family and all the other people that he left without saying bye to.

It had been over eight months since he had a night of sleep that was uninterrupted, and although life as the world knew it ended only about two months ago, Sila's life on the road began eight months before that. A full night of sleep started to feel like an elusive animal to him, and he had no tools to capture it. Part of this angst was due to the looming threat of a virus that turned humans to flesh-eating beasts, and the other part was attributed to the guilt of not being with his family. There still has not been a day that passed where he didn't rack his brain of thoughts of his mother, four aunts, and countless cousins that he considered to be his own little brothers and sisters. How desperately Sila wanted to be with his family, protecting and comforting them, but he had to settle with the thought that his cousins were taking that responsibility.

Movement outside by the church broke Sila out of his deep thought. He had to break the habit of doing that if he was going to survive. In this world, retreating into deep thought isn't an option for safety when an undead is trying to tear your face off. He peered outside his makeshift home to find Janette Allen on the steps of the church, obviously thinking to herself. Sila met Janette soon after he arrived at Haven. After expressing that he was a chef and that he wanted to help keep the encampment in the top nutritional health, he got the feeling that he was a little bit more welcome, and that put his mind at ease.

Sila sat back down to relax before the day started, and continued to fill his mind with thoughts for the day and how he could maximize the nutrition of the dwindling food supply that Janette kept track of. Winter was coming and food was key for survival. Up until two months ago, Sila never in his life had to worry about food, or where it would come from.

"It's time to learn how to survive," he sighed as he took a deep breath and picked himself up off the floor to get the day started.

Janette waited until the people of haven started to stir. Not many saw the point in working, but those who didn’t do their fair share of work didn’t stay in Haven. Janette may be a kind woman, but she wasn’t such a pushover that she would feed and house freeloaders. Once everyone assembled to the church Janette doled out the orders.

”Okay everyone, here’s today's plans: Currently our food stock isn’t sufficient to last us through the winter. Not even if we ate only once a day and ate only as little as we can. And that’s only assuming that we still have all our food by the time winter hits, because I can assure you once it does a lot of it might go bad. So I’m dividing everyone up into two teams: One team will go into the fields and try to harvest whatever corn or soybean is ripe and ready for processing. I know it’s not quite time for harvest, but we don’t know what the future may hold. Another team I want to go scavenging through the ruins. You know what that means: I want you to go into the city and try to find a source of supplies. I don’t expect you to be able to bring it all back, and I don’t want you too. It’ll be too risky to spend all day trying to make multiple trips. I want you to head into the city, find whatever supplies you can, and stash it. Once you get a nice pile keep it safe and protected however you can, and we’ll send a bigger group next time to acquire it. The supplies I want you all to get isn’t food either, though if you can find it take it if you can risk it. No, what we need is building supplies, nails, tools, the works. If there’s an Ace Hardware take it. Right now our fences aren’t even good enough to keep animals out, let alone zombies or thieves. We have plenty of wood if we can cut down the trees but last I check we only have one saw in this entire village. One last thing: Scavenger Team, take only handguns and only one magazine or chamber worth of bullets. This isn’t a hunt; I don’t want you to use your guns if you can help it.”

As new people arrived Janette was a bit cautious, but welcomed them all the same. She told them that they had no space for freeloaders and if they sought any shelter or help from them, they’d have to help Haven first, and informed them of the task.

The people Janette chose to stay behind to help harvest crops were Alexandra Walsh, Joseph Reed, Winifred Turner, Nelson Fortier, and Michelle Bennett. Janette of course would be staying with them to help with the harvest as well. While she expects all of them to help the harvest, she also picked a few in case danger comes to Haven. They still need fighters, and Janette wasn’t about to leave all their combat able to brave the city.

Everyone else, which meant Logan Walsh, Sila Chanthavong, David Levitski, Dani Salazar, Paul Braddock, and the newcomer Andrew Lee, were going to head into the city. Guns were a rarity and bullets even more so; Janette knew there were plenty of guns in the city, but it was a useless peice of metal without any bullets to shoot. She chose these people because they were healthy enough to handle whatever dangers might be in the city, but at the same time lacked the particular skills Janette felt would be helpful in cultivating the land. Not that she told them this, but that was simply how she thought about it. If they could find more survivors, she could afford to give them more specialized tasks which they would excel in. But for now, she’d have to make due with what she had right now.

“What about hunting wildlife? There’s tons of deer running around out there, we hit one or two and drag it back here then that would solve dinner for tonight.” Alexandra piped in as soon as Janette was finished, not exactly happy with being chosen to pick crops, but it was the less dangerous task. Her father was relieved she wasn’t picked to go into the city, which if things went to hell enough might have killed her and all the others.

He wasn’t too excited with the prospect himself, but at least he had a decent group with him, excluding the new guy, David who had just strolled into town, Logan meeting him with a nod and welcome as he handed over any guns, it was enough for him to be allowed in, as long as the man would hold his own with the workload.

Logan had moved away from the assembled group, then returned pushing a wheelbarrow of firearms, all unloaded of course, but there were bullets with them, exactly the amount for each that Jane had specified. The guns were a Model 70F, Beretta 90, Ruger SP101, Mossberg 500, Beretta M9, two Glock 19s, two Glock 22s, two M4 Carbines, Remington 870, a MP5, a P226, two AR15s and a M1911 which Logan took for himself, before he allowed everyone to pick their weapons he spoke.

“These are not toys, practice trigger discipline, these are your last line of defense. If there’s not other way to defend yourself, that includes running, then make sure you hit what you’re shooting. There is not a lot of ammo for any of these. If you’ve never used a gun then you may be better off just not taking one.” Logan said in a serious, stern tone as he holstered his own pistol.

Upon hearing that Janette was about to address the group, Joseph and Winifred returned inside the building, Joseph dismissed the humanoid figure he had seen walking towards Haven. He was probably just seeing things, after just waking up a few minutes ago.

Joseph sighed upon hearing that he was to stay back from going into the city. He reasoned that it was because of his knowledge of crops and also partly in due to Winifred's previous scene. She was less likely to run after them if Joseph was with her. He was an understanding man and, although he was a bit disappointed with his placement, he took it with a smile and a nod.

Even though he wanted to help out in the city, he was also looking forward to harvesting the crops. His hands had missed the feel of prickly leafs and damp soil. Since the outbreak, he had to change his mindset and routine. He missed the days of waking up at six in the morning. Waking Margaret with a kiss before dressing and heading outside to feed the livestock and start the day. Taking the horses out to graze, checking on the crops with his son, often fertilizing, and cutting the grass. Sometimes dipping his toes in the pond on a hot summer's day.

"I don't want to pick crops." Winifred's comment of discontent interrupted Joseph's reminiscing. He placed a hand on her shoulder, as if to shush her.

"We could make it fun," Joseph suggested.

"Yeah but you like that kind of stuff. I'd rather be out in the city, kicking ass and saving the world. What does picking crops have to do with surviving?"

"We need food to live, don't we?" While his tone was pleasant, the look he gave her told her that she better stop complaining. Haven had given them shelter and food. If they had to stay back and pick crops, so be it. The two took a step back from the group, waiting for the other crop pickers to gather together so they can head out.