Quoted By:
Well, you’re more than stocked up. I’m fact there’s very little that you don’t have. You got shelves upon shelves of everything you need to survive, but not too much room. A little claustrophobic but you don’t seem to mind yet.
It’s WEEK ONE of life in the bunker and you’re enjoying your solitude, taking pride in the fact that you’re probably the only man in the word right now that has the privilege of laying back and chewing on pennican while sampling one of the countless books in your vast library or listening to some tunes. Clean water, power, enough guns to clear a small country. Holy fuck you’re living large.
You’ve spent your first couple days cutting down through the works of Stephen king, physical books taking up far too much valuable space for your liking. Though you can only imagine how rare they are right now, the last of their kind surely. God forbid something catches on fire down here, you could have sworn you brought the extinguisher with you when the sirens started but it’s gone. At least there’s well water.
While reading you hear banging come from above, sounding over the calls of Chuck Berry playing from your small MP3 player. You can’t see shit, but you can certainly hear the pounding on the hatch from above, and some wild snarling.
Looks like you’re not the only one that made it out.
What’s the plan?
