Zombie Apocalypse

Hope has about run its course here. We’re all beyond exhausted; the only thing that keeps us moving at this point is sheer force of will. The zombies won’t stop coming, and no matter what we do, nothing ever seems to make a difference – until now.

A few months ago, we got in touch with some sort of government facility. They had been completely cut off from the rest of the government and couldn’t figure out why they had lost contact. I hated to tell them what had happened, but they took it well. It was almost like they were prepared for this sort of thing. They acted like it was business as usual, but they kept asking us for things, telling us that they were working on a cure. I guess someone else would have walked away after a while, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t give up on the chance that they might actually have something that we needed.

I must have been wrong. We had just brought a big delivery in when they suddenly stopped contact. I couldn’t shake the gut feeling that something was horribly wrong. We tried to get in, but we couldn’t make it through. The team that we sent in lost contact after an hour, so we have no idea what’s going on in there. That’s why I’m writing to you. If anyone would be able to do it, it’s gonna be you. You’re our only hope here. Imagine a cure; imagine a new world. A world where you don’t have to keep watch every night, where you can return to your home and your job, where you can celebrate birthday parties and not have to worry where your next meal is coming from.

We all want to go back to that world, and this is the only way we’re going to be able to do it. We’re counting on you. Let me know when you get to the area and I’ll get you set up.