I woke in the early hours of the morning to a quiet camp. Most of my new friends were either sleeping or out in the wilderness tending to their personal business. I sat under some cover and waited for the last of the night's rain to pass before building a small fire. The American doctor, Pete, was awake. We discussed our choice in firearms and chattered for a while whilst I smoked my morning cigarette and ate a little. Our conversation was cut short however, when we heard the roar of a bear just outside camp. We took up positions on the wall and prepared for a fight, but luckily for everyone the bear walked away. I must look at how we are storing our meat and other food, with the snow finally melting there are new hungry creatures lurking in the woods.
When the sun was high enough, the doctor and I decided to take a walk over to one of the nearby towns. There was a heavy presence of infected, and a few times we found ourselves in difficult situations. We watched each other's back and our worst injuries were some torn clothing. We did not find much of use (and still no FUCKING SHOVEL), but it was nice to get out of the camp and stretch our legs. We did find something that Cowboy or one of the technicians might find useful, but we will need to take them with us to find out. Pete is interesting to talk with, carries himself well in the wilderness, and is a good fighter. He carries some kind of sword and makes short work of these creatures. I still prefer the power and utility of my trusty axe, no fancy stuff. Just a crack over the head and even the thickest-skulled kurva drops like a sack of potatoes.