Last night I dreamed I had to hack my way through animated rotting flesh. I sense the Apocalypse is closer than we had anticipated. This new awareness coupled with a knowledge that my location has been compromised forced me to take action. Unfortunately the army surplus store only had one machete in stock and no sharpening kits. As the Metal as Fuck Lawyer(working on a better nickname for this bad-ass ally), must be armed as well I shall soon return for more weapons and the tools needed to keep them sharp.
As for the compromised location, the hunt is on for a new base of operations. Time is short and money is even shorter, but cash supplies matter not when the stores are staffed by the un-dead.
I'm off to speak with Ellen Stagg, responsible for helping keep my glamor model cover believable and Justine, an ally about potential hideouts and city escape plans.
