The infection is spreading.

Zombies don’t wake up very early; though Mark Twain has a 1:1 human-to-zombie population now, none were sighted while walking to breakfast or work this morning. The first undead I saw very accidentally followed me from class; I spotted him first, and was able to score a kill. Before I could celebrate, though, two more appeared in the distance. Rather than take on two by myself, I ducked into the Memorial Union and hid in a bathroom as they shuffled on. I’ve been choosing my routes very carefully: during the day, the most-traveled pathways are the most dangerous.

I’m locked inside all evening in a closed-door defense meeting; some survivors are undertaking a mission tonight, though I’m unclear on the details. Justin will be going, and bring back a full report afterwards. We’ll meet afterwards to discuss plans for Saturday and Sunday’s missions, and tactics in general.