~~ Doug Walker was a freeloader and when he heard how the problems where getting worse decided to make a run out of town.

Having a passing interest in herbs, he thought it best to make it out on his own living off the land - maybe hole up in that shop he remembered out on the outskirts of town, he was not afraid of fighting, but tried to avoid if he could.

He never saw the need to keep things tidy and in containers and thought it best to keep things all within easy reach.

The quiet life saw Doug start to take an interest in fishing and animal husbandry, and saw him take care of pigs, sheep, rabbits, mice and, developed a special fondness for chickens.

His luck was great, avoiding zomboids from the trees time and again and even found many valuable items from the old world which he planned to collect at a more advantageous time.

His luck ran short however when he wanted to see how the sanitarium was holding up, he was a “visitor” of the facility in his younger years and to his mind thought it a palace in the wastes.

Little did he know that his journey would come to an end, when he stumbled too greedily into unknown dangers, as he was moving in to dispatch yet another of the shambling dead. He caught but a glimpse of something from the trees, that glimpse turned to panic as that something lunged out and before he could react, he felt a sharp pain at his side, he tried to break free but was bit again on the arm. The pain now starting to fade as adrenaline began to kick in as he tried desperately to break free from dead’s grip.

He succeeded, his body now burning, knowing and remembering from those early days of the Knox event that he was running on borrowed time.

Knowing this, he decided that in his last moments he will take destiny into his own hands and will enjoy the world from a view that he could appreciate.

That he would rather go out on his own terms and not slowly succumb to the cruelty this world.

He raced back to his home, that was only a month since he moved in, and on his way back thought about how he would go about this task without suffering. His idea, expose himself to the elements and have nature’s grip embrace him in its icy embrace and allows him to drift peacefully into that darkness, surrounded by what he loved.

He got home and reluctantly threw everything that he owned on the ground one last time, he thought - at length - of his life, and with the last piece of clothing removed, prepared himself for the end.

So this is it, I always thought I would go out more violently in the end, but it was a good life, even if I was alone in the end, I can at least be able to have the view of my chickens as a last pleasant thought before it all goes dark.

P.S.

To my brother, sorry I couldn’t prepare the place better. If you are still alive and read the note I left in the family home, then you should be able figure out where I have been - heh, I’ve always been a slob, sorry I couldn’t make it more homely as a parting gift. And if you ain’t my brother, sod off! But you’re welcome to anything you find, ain’t going to be needing it no more soon.

P.P.S. As I final wish of a dying man, would you name that plump red hen : “Gertrude”, always fancied the gal - always made the best eggs. ~~