We go searching through houses sometimes because we need things, but usually because we can’t sit still for too long. It’s almost always a good thing, because we get to stockpile useful resources. Unfortunately, we’re still using mostly blunt weapons. Zoic found a revolver, which she has been using, but bullets are limited, and she tries to conserve them. We’d been through two houses earlier with nothing to take but some canned and frozen food. Food is always good, but it doesn’t provide any real killing power for our future plans. We’ve been hoping for a good redneck house filled with tons of guns. We found something like it.

The house wasn’t too far from where we’re living, but it was in a richer neighborhood. There were bodies outside, no longer moving, and there appeared to be gunshot wounds. Yet the windows were broken, and the door was off its hinges. We yelled inside. There’s no rule book for the apocalypse, but it seems reasonable that making yourself known will avoid accidentally hurting or being hurt by humans, and it will bring the infected out of hiding. There was no response. I was hoping really hard that no one was inside and feeling crazy enough to fire on humans. That’s no way to die in the apocalypse.

We took care of the first two by the door. Adults, well dressed. Inside, there wasn’t much activity. It seems that whatever happened had happened a long time ago. There was a crawler (he had his lower limbs removed somehow) and we took care of that, but otherwise we had little trouble. The freezer had some nice veggies and the cupboard had some things to eat. We loaded these items back in the car, but we’re greedy, so we went back.

The bedroom was somehow entirely covered with blood. I’m not sure what happened as there wasn’t a body to speak of. Just blood. A shitton of blood. Under the bed, we found the rifle, loaded with only a few bullets. After ransacking the drawers, we found a box of bullets. Much better. Searching through the closet, we found another handgun with some bullets that Zoic thought she could use in her revolver. She threw the guns back and forth between hands, deciding which felt better in which. The heavier, she kept in her left. I got to use the rifle. I was a bit embarrassed to say that I had never fired a gun before. She said, “neither had I.”

I once had a friend who claimed to have guns hidden everywhere in his house. I told Zoic that I thought there would be more. We searched for an hour in every corner of the house. Finally, in the garage, I looked behind a tool shelf. At first it looked like nothing, but when I pulled it out, it appeared to be an AK-47. I don’t know anything about guns, but it says so on the body. After pulling it out, Zoic and I looked at each other a bit perplexed. It didn’t quite make sense at first. “Arizona,” she said. I nodded in agreement and aimed the gun at the other side of the garage. It felt a bit awkward and new. I’d get used to it, I decided. There didn’t appear to be any more ammunition, but it had a full clip.

We peeked out of the garage and saw that we had some new friends, and we decided to head out before things got any worse. All in all, not a bad find.