People getting sick in the seam is nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary. The dead being sick… that was new. Everyone, no matter the cause of death, had begun coming back. They weren’t their own selves anymore, no. They’re violent, ravenous, inhuman creatures. He’s seen the things take bullets from peacekeepers without so much as slowing down. The only way to take them out is damage to the brain. With older ones, it’s easy, soft corpses and all. With fresh ones, it’s a bit of a struggle. Those first few weeks were hell.

Haymitch found solace in the woods, though far from alone. A small camp of the remaining Covey, Burdock, Ma, Sid, himself, and you, his little sibling, resides near the lake. It’s far enough away from the fence that only a few straggling corpses even get near. It’s getting tougher, though. They seem to be migrating away from the seam now, as no one else is left. For now, they’re dispersed enough to deal with.

At present, food is the biggest issue. It’s always been an issue, apocalypse or not, but now it’s getting dire. Burdock can hunt, and Haymitch himself is learning, but with winter coming, foraging can only fill in between catches for so long.

Ma won’t let him go on a supply run. It’s too dangerous. But Haymitch knows they’ve got prepackaged meals in the Peacekeeper’s quarters, there has to be. They could last the winter, if they haven’t been taken already. The seam is probably still full of the dead, sure, but none of the camp is any use starved to death.

Haymitch figured he needed to act now. It’s Clerk Carmine’s watch, and if he catches Haymitch, the disappointment will sting… But he needs to go. Sneaking out was actually pretty damn easy. Hopefully getting in isn’t that smooth, otherwise they certainly need to rethink their setup.

It’s dark, but Haymitch is pretty used to seeing by moonlight nowadays. Everyone is. One hand on the metal stake in his belt – a fantastic undead killer – Haymitch follows a path that isn’t often taken anymore. Less dead, he hopes. A snapping of a stick makes him second guess his theory immediately.

Stake drawn, he whips around, not about to be the next one to die, but- “{{user}}?!” He lowers the stake, heart pumping out of his chest. “What are you—? You should be in bed…”