The Apocalypse touched us all, in different ways. Most collapsed under the weight of doomsday, some found ways to cope, and some only grew stronger as the world around them crumbled.

Terrel Jackson was a strong man, a hard man, an honest man.
This is how he died.

Jackson lived, as many others did, in a two-story brownstone home, which his father had purchased nearly eighty years ago. Terrel was smart enough to stay in his home in the early days of the outbreak, but he was running very low on food, and would soon have to sojourn out and into Knox County's undead-riddled streets. He had prepared for this day.

A quick look outside revealed no danger. As if anything can be called safe, now.
This house had curtains for nearly every window. Curtains are very nice for a safehouse, because while zombies cannot yet climb through windows, they can see you through them. Using existing curtains or bedsheets to block line of sight preserves your precious wooden planks for things like barricades.
Knowing he would likely never see his home again, Terrel made use of his stove to cook up what was left in his fridge. There wasn't much.
Some food in the game is perishable, and it just happens to be the best food. Steak, Chicken and Salmon will rot in two days outside of a fridge, but can fill 80% of your hunger bar if cooked. If you have ADD, just eat them raw- burnt food is almost worthless. Apples can last three days, and Bread can last four days outside of a fridge, while Carrots can last a whole week, longer than most players live. Refrigerators slow down the process of spoilage, ensuring that even the wisest player's food stocks will dwindle. Anything in a can, along with chips and chocolate, will last forever.
He donned his last clean shirt. Not too bad.
Terrel made the rounds, grabbing everything of conceivable use in his home. He took the bedsheets, a battery, a handful of rifle rounds that his father left behind when he left on his last supply run (They had drawn straws. The rifle was still out there, out in the rotting hell,) and a fire axe that Terrel had swiped from the station three days ago.
With the coast seemingly clear, Terrel went about chopping down his upstairs doors- after all, he wouldn't need them soon.
He didn't know just how prophetic that would be.
Apparently I was too loud when condemning the place, so much so that the zombies decided they wanted to see just what sort of delicious noise-maker there was up in our house.
There's only so much a fire axe could do. If we had a gun, or a weapon like a baseball bat, that pushed enemies away, we just might have lasted longer.Up next:
Ringo the Fourth and his noble attempt at colonizing the park.