Bob Navarro’s house is pretty well setup; an oasis castle in this desert of death. We had barely managed to drag ourselves back to this suburban fortress when howling from the outside began. Navarro said the superzombies taunt him every night, he also said that we could stay as long as we didn’t jeopardize his safety. I didn’t want to come to this town in the first place and I hadn’t felt safe since we arrived. I won’t say I feel entirely safe around Navarro but he has an oddly genuine trustworthiness about him. Actually, Navarro’s house kinda feels like being back in the vault, home sweet home.
“Artie” was bitten by the superzombies, but managed to pull through. Navarro said he’d developed a a process to create a vaccine for zombism, but to produce it he needs a “live” superzombie. In a two-pronged effort of self-preservation, I’ve begun to lead the group out to capture superzombies. A vaccine like that will protect us, but its value for trade is almost limitless.
The superzombies aren’t the only danger in this town, though they seem to be the only ones out after dark. The radio broadcast we were tracking was not a message of hope but a trap to lure in unsuspecting victims in to be enslaved by an army of the best equipped individuls we’ve seen since we left the vault. The G.A.R, which stands for the Grand Aryan Revolution is a group of black men that have military uniforms and armor. Oddly they do not have similar weapons which leads to many questions about the origin of there supplies.