March 19th

This is Jimmy Varn and I think everything will be okay.

It’s been raining today. Sweet glorious fire killing rain started last night and into the morning. I still see smoke but maybe it is just smoldering. I don’t care, as long as the fire is out, I don’t have to leave Home Base II

The rain seamed to stop the zombies homing in on the fire. I felt confident enough to go out and raid a couple of houses to resupply. I didn’t find much food, but I grabbed every rug, comforter or thick blanket I could. I put them all on the floor so maybe it won’t freeze so much in here.

I also enjoyed shooting some fucking zombies. Watching them kill those theater people had made me feel really helpless. Putting a few bullets into the skulls of slow moving targets made me feel a lot better. I killed about twenty of the fuckers from my front porch.

I think I may be heavily desensitized. I blew away a teenager zombie. She was barely thirteen and wearing a Jonas Brothers jacket. No hesitation, I just blew her away. It might make me a better zombie killer but I might be less of a person. Oh well, their fucking loss.

Granted, I have no proof the fires have stopped but I have to be optimistic. The thought of leaving was so damn depressing. I don’t want to go anywhere. I worked too hard for all the shit I have. Fuck, I took an arrow for the things I have. This is my home.

I am starting to get really pissed at how I only seem to find other people after they die. I need a way to let people know I am here. I need a way to get in touch with people like the Figs, and not with the crazies at Wal-mart.

Heh, I should take out a personal ad.

I do wonder if I could do my own radio broadcast. I have no idea how to do such a thing, but I bet I could learn. I know I check the radio every day, I’m sure other people are too. It might be the best way to find people. At least find them before they get killed.

Oh fuck, I am turning into Will Smith. All I need is a dog and Bob Marley music.