The good thing about the Zombie Apocalypse is that all human belongings were now up for grabs for the few that survived. And so I spent the first few weeks just breaking into abandoned villas in the rich part of town, going through the stuff of other people who were most likely dead, or otherwise unlikely to return.
The first thing I really missed was electricity. The power grid would hold up for a few days by itself, and then would go down in the part of town I stayed in. At night, I could still see some lights in another part of town, but never went there to investigate. Without electricity there was no light, no refrigeration, no cooking unless it was with gas.
There was plenty of food still. Suddenly, the supplies of thousands of people were left for just me - or a handful of others I don't know - so there was no shortage of preserves, cereal, anything that would last without refrigeration. I found a few places with gas stoves and could stay there for a good while, just living off supplies from neighbouring houses and playing with other people's things I found in their homes.
The bad thing about the Zombie Apocalypse were the Zombies. I kept my distance from them, never tried to engage one and stuck to well-fortified homes that were surrounded by high walls and were clear of them. The owners had either fled after the outbreak, or were out of home when it hit. And so the Zombies were just a distant groan, outside, at night, that would wake me up occasionally and make me check the doors and windows, but nothing more.
Weirdly during those first days I had a great time. The pressure of civilization was gone, and I enjoyed searching all these rich homes, seeing things I've never seen before and living free and uninhibited. I didn't bother putting on clothes when I stayed inside and spent a lot of time masturbating. Luckily, there was a large supply of batteries, vibrators and other toys to be found - you wouldn't believe the kinky tastes some of those people had - and the thought of stuffing another woman's dildo up my twat turned me on even more.
After a while, though, the thrill let on and I had to think about what to do in the long term. Humans are social animals, and even though I enjoyed being alone maybe more than most other people, I knew it would turn me crazy sooner or later if I couldn't find someone else. Of course, it would do me no good to die at the bite of a Zombie while I was out there looking, and so I spent a few days planning the safest approach at finding survivors.
I figured it would be best to stay on the water. Zombies seemed to be unable to swim and it would allow me to travel safely. Also, a boat would probably draw attention of any other intelligent being around and thus would enhance my chances of discovery. Of course, that could be a bad thing, depending on how hostile the other survivors would be.
So in order to defend myself I spent several days practising my shooting skills. Even though guns were outlawed for the most part where I live, I found that most rich people had some kind of weapon in their home. I gathered a few handguns, rifles, an antique scimitar, and as much ammunition as I could find. There was a shooting range in one of the basements that came in handy and once I figured out which ammo belonged to which weapon, which of them I could handle best and which other gun would make a good replacement, I finally packed my bags.
I was careful not to carry too much, and so only packed two handguns, carrying them in holsters that crossed between my breasts. Another belt around my waist could hold several clips of ammunition for quick reloading, and the scimitar came with its own ornate belt and sheath that I put on as well. Since it was the Zombie Apocalypse, and summer in Italy, I didn't wear much other clothing, as I figured nobody I encountered would care about my exposed breasts or pantiless crotch. So the only other articles of clothing I put on were a pair of green jogging pants, some running shoes, a white loose shirt and a wide white summer hat against the heat.
In my backpack I had a pair of jeans and a sweater, just in case it would get cold, as well as enough food for a week, a few tools that weren't too bulky, maps, chalk, a compass, batteries, a flashlight, matches, lighters, a few candles, a GPS system and as much ammo as I could carry. And so one day, as the sun went down in the fourth week after the outbreak, I left.
The good thing about Zombies is that most of the time you could hear them long before you could see them. I stuck to the back alleys and side streets as I made my way down to the river, listening to any sound, evading anything that seemed suspicious and made more detours than I can remember. With the map I kept from getting lost, but it got dark much earlier than I expected, and so I scrambled to look for a good place for the night.
Rooftops and high places proved to be best, and so I went through an abandoned apartment building up onto the roof and made camp there. There were groaning noises coming from some of the apartments as I passed them, so I was glad when the door to the rooftop was metal and sturdy looking, and I fastened the handle with one of the tools, making it hard to open from the other side.
Before I laid down, I took a cautionary tour of the roof, making sure no Zombie was hidden there somewhere and then stopped at the edges, looking out across the town beneath me, dark shadows scuffling along the streets occasionally. I sighed, pulling down my pants and spreading my legs, emptying my bladder across the curb, hoping to hit at least some of those fuckers with my piss.
Suddenly, as I stood there, pee spraying out of my sticky labia, I saw a light flash in another building not too far from where I was. It looked not like the lights in the still lit part of town, but more like a flashlight, turning on and off at irregular intervals and seeming to point at different directions. Too cautious and afraid to go there at night, I tried to memorize the position and mark it on the map to explore it the next day.
In the morning I woke up with one of the candles still inside my pussy, having played with them in the night before I went to sleep. I cursed the lack of foresight and toilet paper, making a mental note to ravage somebody's bathroom at the next possible occasion. Hygiene has become a luxury, as running water became increasingly scarce. I had not showered in weeks, and most of all missed washing my hair. So, next mission: Bathroom.
