The idea of zombies coming alive and my plan to survive is something I think about more often than I should. The average person would tell you that they would go hide in a bunker full of guns and ammo but as for me, I’m going to my grandparents house. You see, my grandparents are about as conservative as they come so they have lots of guns, more than the average people do, but they are ready. My grandfather was in the military and now works for a wildlife company in Frankfort and so he knows all about land, farming, and hunting. They have always had a garden that supplies us with more food then my family can eat all season so my nutrition would be protected. He also goes hunting on a regular basis so that helps with two things; 1- shooting the zombies down, and 2- getting meat to eat.
Other than the average tools needed to survive, my grandparents land is out in the middle of the woods. They are 20 minutes of winding roads and scary dropoffs away from the nearest town and they sit at the very top of a steep hill. Steep enough we have to stop and take a break halfway up the hill so the zombies will take a long time to make it to the house, if they make it.
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