March 10th

This is Jimmy Varn and my ass is still alive.

Wal-Mart was even creepier than I first thought. I am never going back there.

The first thing I did was head towards the pharmacy so I can get all their antibiotics. I could hear zombies moaning so I went real slowly. I figured since I killed Bow Guy, the place would be an open house.

The pharmacy was wiped clean. I mean absolutely empty. There wasn’t a single pill of anything left. I was disappointed but not surprised. I feel bad for anyone trying to survive the apocalypse with a pre-existing condition.

On a whim, I decided to check on the corpse of Bow Guy. The blood spatter was there, but the body was gone. At first I thought he might have reanimated but I shot the bastard through the skull. It took me a minute, but I realized someone else must have cleared the body.

Fuck. He must have had friends.

I stopped fucking around. I tried to go straight to where the bikes would be. Of course, being a fucking Wal-Mart, it was not easy to navigate around with all the lights on much less by flashlight. The dead zombies and dead people littering the floor were awful.

By accident I came across the gun section. The place was empty of weapons which was not a big surprise. It had plenty of bodies. Judging from the blood, bullets holes and carnage, it looked like this had been the scene of one nasty ass gun battle. People killed people here.

It was around there that I found my first zombie. As I took aim, I noticed the zombie was making no move to come at me. I studied him and saw why.

Someone had chained him to the floor. Shit. I don’t know if he was supposed to be some sort of a guard dog, or if he was just around to make that moaning noise. I decided against shooting him. I might need my ammo.

I came across three more chained zombies before I finally found some fucking bikes. How the hell did they manage to chain zombies? The question bothered me so much that I stopped to really examine one.

The zombie had a gun shot in his leg, with a lot of blood on his pants. I think he was chained up when he was alive, and then killed to be a zombie.

Sick shit.

I found the bikes and I am not ashamed to say I grabbed the first half way decent one that was my size. Funny how the guns, ammo, beer and drugs were all gone, but the bike area looked untouched. These bikes weren’t even chained. The hardest part was finding a box to stand on so I could get the fucker down from the high shelf it was on.

I did smile at the sign asking that customers ask for assistance for reaching items. No fucking thank you.

So yeah, I got my bike and rode it the way home. I pedaled my ass as fast as I could. I don’t know where the freaks living in Wal-Mart were staying. Maybe they had fortified the back storage area. Shit, there might be a whole community of freaks living there but I will never find out.

Fuck them.