jimdattilo

Zombie Exodus: Stronghold Test Version (Oct 25, 2025)

Here's the link:

Test version (click here)

Stronghold is being re-written! It's over 17,000 words! Please check the log notes after loading the page above.

On CoGDemos, you must create a free account to save your game!

Also note, due to piracy, even for WIP games, you must now be logged in to Patreon to access this game.

Guidelines

• Please do not share details outside of here.

• Keep all comments in this thread.

• Good feedback is sometimes specific to your primary MC but should often be generalizable to other MCs.

To help with testing, please review the bulleted list in the change log on the first page of the test site.

Nora from ZEXSH

Here is a another version of Nora from when you first meet her in chapter 1.

Description: the image shows Nora standing with gray hair pulled back neatly into a low bun and light-colored eyes. She is wearing a brown and green plaid button-up shirt over a light gray T-shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Dark pants are visible below the shirt, and she is holding a wooden cane in her right hand.

Games by JimD Newsletter – Game Updates, Stronghold

Welcome to my 96th newsletter!

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4, is officially in the hands of Hosted Games! I will let you know as soon as I get some indication of when they will finish editing the files. It will most likely be early next year. The good thing is that I use only one app, instead of most games that use separate apps. ZEXSH is much easier to update.

We also haven’t talked about pricing. Hosted Games usually sets the price, and I tell them to lower it. And then we argue, and they typically do what they want. They are the publisher, so it’s usually not my choice. However, I have gotten them to keep prices low. I aim to make it $5 for Part 4 during the release month as a special offer.

I will have to wait before working on the free update for ZEXSH. Hosted Games is still working out some technical details with me, and when that is finalized, I have to put through the update for past bugs. That should come in November and fix many errors you have been requesting. After that goes in, I will have a more finalized copy that I can use to start on the free update.

Otherwise, I’m going to be working on Stronghold.

In this newsletter, I will review my development plans, as always. Let's get started.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4

Part 4 is 1,020,000 words, which is 14,000 words this month. There were parts that I made that no one has seen yet. These got in at the last moment before I had a chance to have anyone else playtest them. Most of the content involves events that occur at the junkyard between chapters. These are passive events that your group will have little control over. For example, your group has to deal with infestations of insects, attacks by zombies, wildlife, and disease. These can be mitigated by things you have built and also by defenses.

I have also reworked how the junkyard gets improved when the main character is not the MC. Jaime and Rachel will now be better about building things.

I also coded a way to create new characters, Part 4, for those rare players who don’t import a saved game or would rather jump right into the action. I didn’t want you to be at a severe handicap if you choose this option, so I provided a few extra items and some junkyard improvements beginning at Part 4.

Many of you also probably never experienced a new event in which you can ask Allison to dinner. This allows you to form a romantic relationship with her. Allison’s romance will be more slow-burning than others, but she has an interesting story.

I have also added a lot of checkpoints so that you can make use of saves between chapters.

Zombie Exodus: Stronghold

I will focus on developing this for the next month or so, while waiting for some of the technical issues to be solved by Hosted Games.

So far, the game is at 150,000 words and should reach nearly triple that when done. It will not be as branching as Safe Haven, and overall, it’s a more linear story. However, there are primary paths that you can take that will change the game dramatically. It’s hard to explain without giving away major spoilers in chapter 1. I can say that profession/background is even more important than Safe Haven, but there is no significant benefit to one profession over another.

Stronghold is also much more streamlined than Safe Haven. You can turn on stat updates to see when stats change. Of course, you can turn that off for a more immersive experience.

Since you are not in one location for long, you won’t need to improve your haven or create defenses. Some players love building up the junkyard in Safe Haven, while others don’t want that level of management.

Stronghold also has fewer characters overall. There are six primary supporting characters besides the main character, played by you. Characters will join and leave your group throughout the game, but the core six will stay with your character for most of the story (and yes, none of them have plot armor).

The six main characters are also romantic interests. Romance is handled much differently because the entire story happens over a very short time. There won’t be numerous love scenes. It’s more about the emotional and a buildup to what happens after the climax of the story. Many of you enjoy romance; I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.

A public version of the game is available, but I recommend holding off a few more days before you test it. I plan to release a new version for beta testers on Patreon on Saturday.

Deadbury Academy

Deadbury Academy was updated a few months ago, and I posted a new demo at the following location.

https://cogdemos.ink/play/jimd/deadbury-academy/mygame/

As you may remember, I put the development of this game on hold until I finish writing Safe Haven, Part 4.

That's all for this month.

ZEXSHp4 Credits

As part of your Patreon rewards, you may choose to have your name appear in the credits of Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4. Please indicate the name you would like to use. It can be your real name, nickname, or avatar.

Basically, anything that is not offensive.

List the name in the comments below.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven Part 4 Test Version (Oct 15, 2025)

Here's the link:

Test version (click here)

Part 4 is over 1,020,000 words! Please check the log notes after loading the page above.

This is the near final version that will be sent to Hosted Games!

On CoGDemos, you must create a free account to save your game!

Guidelines

• Please do not share details outside of here.

• Keep all comments in this thread.

• Good feedback is sometimes specific to your primary MC but should often be generalizable to other MCs.

• Your saved games cannot be loaded outside of the app. CoG does not give developers access to this.  I added an experimental save system if you want to try it out. It pops up at the top of the form after the first click on next.  For those familiar with CJW's save system, this is the one I'm using. It may not work between major updates.

To help with testing, please review the bulleted list in the change log on the first page of the test site.

Writing Updates

I’m about four days away from sending the files for Part 4 to Hosted Games. Right now, it’s sitting at just over 1 million words (1,019,320, to be exact), and that’s not counting the code or updates I’ve made to earlier parts.

What am I doing right now?
I’m playing through the game on different paths, fixing grammar errors, and catching any obvious bugs. I’m also checking for continuity: making sure that choices, stats, and storylines stay consistent. Basically, I’m trying to break the game before you can, so the final release runs smoothly.

What happens next?
Once I submit the files, the production staff will send them to a copyeditor. That process can take several months. I’ve already done multiple editing passes myself, so I’m hoping it won’t be too long. Copyeditors follow strict standards: checking for Oxford commas, consistent tense, and grammatical accuracy. It’s slow, detailed work, but it ensures a clean final product.

What will I work on while Part 4 is in production?
I ran a Patreon poll to see what people wanted next. The clear favorite was the free update for Safe Haven, so that’s where I’ll start. I’m also continuing to work on Zombie Exodus: Stronghold.

Not many people voted for me to juggle two projects, but it’s necessary. If I delay Stronghold another six months, it’ll be over a year before publication, and I want it out next year. New games attract new players to the series, and Stronghold is shaping up to be something special.

It’s a bit more linear, as your character moves from point A to point B through interconnected zones while being chased by a zombie horde. It also introduces some new features (like visible stat changes in text, similar to Vampire: The Masquerade – Out for Blood). Your background heavily influences the story, and the core premise is something I haven’t seen done before.

As for the free update (currently called Part 4-2 until I think of a better name), the to-do list keeps growing. If there’s anything you’d like added or expanded in earlier parts, let me know in the comments.

ZE: Safe Haven Sneak Peek

I had to rewrite the confrontation between Bailey and Madison in chapter 15, because it didn't make sense within the continuity of the story. Below is a sneak peek of the rewrite.

Bailey and Madison stand nearly nose to nose, their bodies squared off. Bailey's hands are clenched at her sides, shoulders rigid under her cream-colored blouse.

Bailey and Madison stand almost nose to nose in the packed dirt, neither willing to back away.

Bailey's cheeks are blotched red, hair pulled back in a messy knot, fists curled at her sides. "You really thought I wouldn't find out? All this time, you pretended like nothing was going on."

Madison holds her ground, arms crossed. "You better back down, Bailey. ${he} obviously @{(he = "they") don't|doesn't} want to be with you. Why would ${he} want a shy little drug addict?"

Bailey's jaw tightens, her nostrils flare as she leans in closer. "At least I'm not a spoiled brat who needs to stab people in the back just to feel important."

Madison's lips pull into a hard line. "Take that back or you're going to be sorry."

Bailey shakes her head. "Does the truth hurt? Mommy and daddy can't bail you out or write a check this time."

Madison's cheeks turn impossibly red as she draws back with a fist.

You step up finally and…

MC POV - Interactive Story - 17

Continued from scene 16

“Let’s go back to my place and grab the rest of my gear. We’re packing up my car and heading out of the city as soon as we can.”

Jessica brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d like to stop at my house, too, just for a minute. I need to grab a few things.”

You give her a quick nod. “We’ll make it fast.”

Ryan stands in the entryway of his home, clutching his school bag, glancing from you to the staircase behind him. He follows you out, but he looks back through the open door several times, gaze lingering on the hallway as if expecting his mother to reappear.

The three of you move down the street together, keeping low as the evening shadows deepen. You can hear sirens in the distance, the city growing louder and more uncertain with every step. When you reach your house, you unlock the door quickly and usher everyone inside.

You gather all of your gear: rifle, sidearm, spare magazines, knife, water, first aid kit, and clothes. The house feels empty as you move from room to room, collecting what you need for the road ahead.

When you step outside, the sun has nearly set, bathing the street in deep gold and blue.

---

What kind of vehicle does Elijah have?

Ford F-150 (Extended Cab, 4x4 Pickup).

It’s tough with high ground clearance, able to roll over debris or push through flooded streets. There’s plenty of room for cargo and extra passengers in the cab and bed. The downside is its poor fuel economy and the attention it draws. Thieves know a loaded truck is valuable. The big size makes maneuvering tight corners or dodging stalled cars a challenge.

Ford F-150 (Extended Cab, 4x4 Pickup)

Honda CR-V (Compact SUV).

This one blends reliability and fuel efficiency. It handles slick or uneven roads well with all-wheel drive, and there’s a decent amount of cargo space for its size. It’s easy to drive and can slip through traffic. Still, the storage isn’t as generous as a truck’s, and with three people and gear, it can get crowded. Ground clearance is only average.

Honda CR-V (Compact SUV)

Chevrolet Impala (Full-Size Sedan).

Unassuming and common, this sedan doesn’t draw any extra attention. It’s comfortable and has good speed, with a surprisingly spacious trunk for supplies. Navigating city streets is easy. On the downside, its low ground clearance means any flooding or debris could stop it cold. It’s not built for off-road, and the trunk won’t fit bulkier items or extra passengers in a pinch.

Chevrolet Impala (Full-Size Sedan).

Jeep Wrangler (Two-Door, Hardtop).

It’s great on rough terrain, and if you need to climb a curb or bounce over broken pavement, this is the way to go. It’s also easy to fix and common enough for spare parts. But storage is tight with three people, and the ride is loud. It burns fuel faster than you’d expect for its size.

Jeep Wrangler (Two-Door, Hardtop)

Continue to scene 18

Outbreak Scenario 27

You’ve been on the road with your group for weeks. Food is nearly gone. Tonight, in the ruins of a gas station, you spot a man crouched behind a burned-out car. He’s mid-thirties, rail-thin, and shaking from exhaustion. His jacket is torn, one sleeve soaked with dried blood from a deep cut on his forearm. A rusty pistol hangs from his belt, but he keeps his hands up when he sees you.

“I am alone,” he says. “I have been on the road for days and can barely keep moving.” He swallows hard and looks from one face in your group to another. “I know a safe place two days east. I won't give directions unless you let me come with you.”

You hear a crackle from a radio the nearby car, and someone speaking Russian. The man tilts his head towards the transmission like he understands what they are saying.

If questioned he won't give more details but sticks to his original story.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven Artwork poll

My artist is working on Nora and will soon be ready to create another character portrait for Safe Haven. Which character would you like to see next?

Schedule for October, 2025

If you haven't checked out my latest newsletter, it is now open to every member.

10/3 -- Outbreak scenario poll (Free tier)

10/4 -- Zombie Exodus: Side Stories (MC POV) scene 17. ($3+ tiers)

10/6 -- Content Sneak Peek ($3+ tiers)

10/9 -- Game updates (Free tier)

10/12 -- Content Sneak Peek ($1+ tiers)

10/15 -- Monthly Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4 Final Test ($5+ tiers)

10/16 -- Zombie Exodus: Side Stories (MC POV) scene 18. ($3+ tiers)

10/18 -- Character or Content Poll ($10+ tiers)

10/20 -- Newsletter. ($1+ tiers)

10/22 -- Content Sneak Peek ($3+ tiers)

10/25 -- Zombie Exodus: Stronghold Test ($5+ tiers)

10/27 -- Content poll (free tier)

10/29 -- New Original Story. ($10+ tiers)

ZE Outbreak Novel, Chapter 7

continued from chapter 6

Amber’s Father’s House, Early Evening of Wednesday, May 9, 2012

"Don't come any closer," I said, my words echoing in the kitchen. "Do you understand me? Is there anything left of you in there?"

The creature let out a guttural moan, its head tilting to the side as if thinking about my words. For a moment, I hoped that some piece of humanity remained in the sky and that I could find the way to reach the person trapped inside. Another part of me just wanted to kill him. He was likely the reason Amber’s father was lying upstairs in the pool of blood. The proof was in the blood under his fingernails and the corners of his mouth.

That hope was shattered as the infected man burst into a run, his arms outstretched, reaching for me. Amber screeched, and something clattered behind me. As he ran straight at me, I stumbled backward, colliding with Amber, who shrieked again. My shoulder slammed into her chest, sending her sprawled to the floor.

The guy was fast. This was nightmare fast, or something out of science fiction. What if the virus was making him faster? Was it speeding up some process in the brain that forced motor functions on overdrive? The thought flew through my head in half a second.

Killing someone was no problem for me. I squeezed the trigger, the gunshot ringing in my ears as the bullet tore through the man’s chest. His body jerked sideways, sending him against the kitchen table. Dark blood splattered across the floor tiles, but the guy kept coming, not caring about the hole I put in his lung.

He was close now, and if a bullet didn’t stop, what would?

I sure as hell didn’t know and didn’t waste time aiming. I drove my boot right into his chest, putting everything I had into the kick. He flew back, ribs slamming against the kitchen counter with a sick crack that echoed through the room. The hit sent him sprawling, but the kick threw me off too. I lost my balance and went down hard, landing flat on my back. The wind rushed out of me, kitchen lights spinning overhead as I scrambled to get to my feet.

He pushed off the counter and sprang back at me. His arms were flailing like one of those crazy blowups in the front of car dealerships. But this one was caught in a windstorm. It was all sick, hungry drive with this guy, and every muscle firing at random. I raised my gun, finger tightening on the trigger, but before I could line up a shot, something flew past my ear. My eyes never left the infected, not with those milky eyes fixed on me, red pinhole burning dead center, locked in like I was the only thing left in the room worth chasing.

A potted plant crashed into the creature's skull, sending it staggering sideways. The ceramic shards embedded themselves in its rotting flesh, but the infected man seemed unfazed, still staring at me.

I scrambled upright, boots sliding through a slick of blood that almost sent me down again. The infected crashed into me, hands yanking at my shirt, those jaws snapping so close I could smell what he’d eaten last. Nails raked my arms, tearing at the sleeves, searching for skin. He pressed his face up to mine, the smell curling up my nose and punching the back of my throat like a week-old trash can in August. My stomach lurched.

I shoved both palms against its chest, holding it back with every muscle in my arms burning. The thing pressed closer, teeth clicking, strings of spit stretching from its mouth. Sweat stung my eyes as I fought to keep those teeth away from my skin.

Somehow, I twisted my wrist, bringing the pistol up between us. The barrel found his chest, right against the filthy sweatshirt. I squeezed the trigger. The shop was muffled against him, and his body jerked back. His hands still held me, not letting go, and he lurched forward to snap at my nose. Dark, congealed blood oozed from the open wound, staining his already filthy shirt.

I had to stop calling “it” him. It was no “him” anymore. This thing was no more human than the two bullets he carried in his chest.

I stared in disbelief at this thing in front of me. How could I kill something that’s already dead? It had two bullet shots, both made from close range. One shot went through its center mass, the other through its heart. This was impossible. This wasn’t really happening. If the world was becoming full with things you can’t kill kill, how long before we were all one of them?

Behind the infected, Amber darted to the stove and grabbed the cast-iron pan. She hauled it back and brought it down with everything she had. The metal smashed into his spine with a jarring clang. Nothing. It was like she was brushing a bug off his back. He didn’t even turn and kept drawing me closer to him, snapping his teeth. His breath smelled like sour eggs.

“What do I do?” Amber shouted, voice breaking as she backed away. She looked around the kitchen, hands knocking over plates and dish towels. She ripped open the drawer by the sink, grabbed the biggest knife she could find, and ran straight at him. The blade punched through his back, but it sounded like stabbing a slab of beef. Blood spurted out across her shirt, and she yanked the knife out and drove it in again, screaming, “Die already!” She kept doing it over and over, hacking at this guy with the knife. Blood sprayed across the floor and cabinets, but he kept coming, like he couldn’t even feel it.

The infected man pushed his head forward, teeth no more than a few inches from my face. He was going to kill me. I could feel my arms shaking. Nothing was stopping him, and I felt my grip slipping. It was only a matter of seconds until—

The brain.

"Amber, stab his head!" I shouted, my voice strained with the effort of holding the infected away.

She paused for half a second, then flipped the knife in her grip and let out a scream straight from a slasher movie. The blade punched into the back of its skull, just above the neck. Instantly, the thing stopped grunting in my face. Its strength drained away, and its body went slack, dropping onto me like a sack of wet laundry. I slid down the wall, chest heaving, pinned under dead weight. The kitchen filled with the sound of my breathing and the slow drip of blood hitting the tile.

Amber rushed to my side and helped me push the corpse off. She tried to help me up, but I couldn’t move yet. My clothes were drenched in sweat and infected blood.

“Sam, you’re in shock,” Amber said, her hands shaking as she placed them against my cheeks. “It’s okay. We’re okay. Seeing him die like that…I know.”

She thought I cared about seeing something guy? That’s right, Amber didn’t know what was going on in my brain. How could she know that she was dating a psychopath? Maybe I wasn’t a psychopath in the clinical sense, but it’s not like I was ever tested. Would insurance even cover that?

“Stay with me, baby,” Amber said.

She can tell I was zoning out, thinking about the implications of the healthcare system and—

Did she call me baby?

That thought snapped me out of my zone. "We need to get out of here, now. There could be more of them out there."

She nodded, her eyes still. She guided me to my feet, and I picked up my gun from the floor. It was coded in blood, so I wiped it on some paper towels. We stepped over the corpse and made way out of the kitchen. It was a short home with barely any living room, and as we neared the door, Amber stopped.

"Wait, what about my father?"

Her father? Did she already forget he was dead?

I faced her, taking her arms in my hand. "There's nothing we can do for him now."

She shook in my arms. "We can't just leave him like that! We need to call the police, get someone to take his body, or at least bury him ourselves. That’s my father in there, and he doesn’t deserve to—"

Her voice broke.

Jesus, I wish I felt things. I could see the grief and confusion on her face. The events of the past few minutes had shattered her world. I pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her, hoping to offer what little comfort I could. This is what people did. They hugged when someone was grieving.

"Amber, listen to me," I said softly. "It's too dangerous to stay here. We don't know how many more of those things are out there, and we can't risk getting trapped or overrun."

Amber clung to me, crying against my chest. My shirt was getting damp with tears. I kept a hand on her shoulder, gently running my fingers through her hair. My eyes felt gritty, but I forced myself to focus on her, not on what I was feeling. I’d never handled grief like this. When my father died, I was too young to understand. When my mother passed, I let a stranger at the funeral home take care of the details. Now I was standing here, telling Amber she had to leave her father behind, with no time to say goodbye and no time to mourn. It wasn’t fair, and I didn’t have any right answers.

"I know it's hard, and I'm so sorry you have to go through this, but we need to focus on staying alive. We have to find somewhere safe and figure out our next move."

Amber pulled back, her face streaked with tears. She met my eyes, staring deep into them. I had no choice but to see how broken she was. Maybe this is what empathy felt like, if I felt anything.

“I can’t leave him like this, Sam,” she whispered.

I held her face gently, my thumbs brushing away the tears. “I know you can’t. Nobody should have to. But we have to go. If we stay, we won’t make it out. We’ll figure out a way to do right by your dad later, I promise.”

She closed her eyes for a second, breathing hard through her nose, then nodded. There was something fierce under all the pain now. I had no idea what that emotion might be, but I saw the change.

“Okay.” She reached for my hand. “Let’s go.”

I took Amber’s hand and led her down the steps, boots hitting the sidewalk hard. We kept our heads on a swivel, eyes darting to every shadow and doorway. Not as many people were outside as I expected. At one point, a man ran past the corner of our street, chased by someone who was dragging his own leg. A few gunshots ripped out from far away. A jet plane streaked across the sky. Things were happening all around us, but we moved like ghosts out of phase with the rest of the planet.

Our apartment building sat at the end of the block, looking smaller than I remembered. I kept telling myself it was safe, or at least safer than most places in this mess. I didn’t care about myself but had to keep her alive. My brother and Amber were all that mattered.

A scream cut through the street, sharp enough to freeze us mid-step. We turned and spotted the chaos across the way. A man slammed hard into the front window of a corner deli, the glass rattling but holding. An infected woman had latched onto his throat, her jaw working in quick, savage jerks. Blood streaked the window, the red smearing with every convulsion. The man’s mouth opened in a silent scream, his fists pounding weakly against the glass before he slid down out of sight.

Amber gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in horror. I grabbed her around the waist, pulling her attention back to me. "Don't look, Amber. Just keep your eyes straight ahead and run."

We ran, ducking under a torn street banner flapping in the wind, something about a summer festival. Glass shattered behind us, and I heard someone yelling for help, the kind of shout you know nobody’s coming for. I kept my head down and drove us forward, not giving Amber or myself a chance to look back. There was nothing back there worth seeing.

It was all happening now, right out in the open. Not just news stories or Dr. Cohen’s grim little charts. This was real blood, real teeth, and real panic. I was worried for days and doubted myself at times. Now the worst was here, clawing at the city’s front door, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be right. All that mattered was getting Amber inside and hoping the locks still meant something.

We made it across the street, and I hooked a left, tugging Amber with me into a narrow side alley. Above us, the chop of a helicopter thundered low, echoing between brick walls. Somewhere nearby, gunshots popped in quick bursts, distant but getting closer. Amber’s breath came fast beside me. She squeezed my free hand tight, her grip almost bone-crushing. Somehow, she was staying strong even though someone who lacked empathy like me could tell she was scared out of her mind. Maybe she was holding it all together for me, or maybe this was really Amber.

"It's happening," she said, her voice barely audible above the noise. "Just like you said it would."

I didn't respond, my jaw clenching. There was no satisfaction in being right. Who wants to be right about predicting the apocalypse? What did that award look like? Here’s your ribbon, put it on your chest, and don’t get eaten by a zombie. All I could think about was getting back to our apartment, grabbing my gear, and making my way across town to Gabriel.

I still had to worry about Connor. He wasn’t going to let me take my brother, and he’d already threatened. I didn’t want to hurt the guy, but he wasn’t going to keep me from taking Gabriel with me and Amber.

We rounded the last corner, and the building finally came into view. I picked up the pace, half-dragging Amber behind me. A few more steps and we’d be through the door, away from the mess outside.

A man sat slumped against the wall by the entrance, clutching his forearm. Blood dripped down onto the sidewalk, pooling near his shoes. I saw the wound as we passed him. A chunk of flesh had been torn away from the muscle, skin ragged and already starting to swell around the edges. My gut twisted. I knew exactly what that bite meant, even if he didn’t. Part of me wanted to ask questions. How long ago were you bitten? How do you feel? Are you experiencing any side effects? I wasn’t going to do that though.

We slipped inside the lobby, and the too-bright overhead lights blinded me for a second. The security guards were finishing up, keys and radios clattering on the desk as they hurried to lock up. The older woman looked up at us, eyes wide. .

The older woman at the desk looked up. Her voice came out rushing like she’d just sprinted up three flights. “You two made it just in time. We’re locking up in a minute. After that, you’re on your own with the key fobs.”

Her long nails tapped an impatient rhythm against the desk as she checked her watch. She kept glancing at the front door, like the city might break through at any moment. For a second, I almost offered to walk her out, but I reminded myself I could barely keep Amber and myself together.

All I could do was offer what I thought looked like a reassuring smile. “You got someone waiting on you

“My son,” she said, barely looking up as she shoved papers into a faded purse. “He hates when I’m late. With all this going on? I told him to keep the doors locked and stay away from the windows.”

I nodded. “That’s good advice. If I were you, I’d make a run for it and don’t stop. Tonight’s not the night to trust anybody in this city, especially if they look friendly. And aim for the head. You probably don’t know what I mean, but you will.”

She barked a quick laugh that came out more like a cough. “Okay, whatever that means. You two stay safe up there.”

I watched her hustle out from behind the desk, her keys rattling, shoes squeaking on the tile. The doors rattled as she pulled them shut. The other guard, a middle-aged man whom I had barely noticed, was already lowering the security gate over the front entrance. The metal groaned as it slid into place.

For a moment, the lobby felt empty and too bright, like we were already the last two people in the world. I glanced at Amber, whose knuckles were white around the straps of her bag.

We headed for the elevator, and I tried not to think about how flimsy the building suddenly seemed against everything outside.

Amber and I waited for the elevator, my finger hammering the button. My neck muscles felt like stretched cables. Suddenly, hands rattled the gate over the front door. I spun around. There was a woman outside, palms spread flat, her face twisted with panic.

Her skin looked pale yellow under the lobby lights, with blotchy green stains crawling up her neck. She tried mouthing something, but I couldn’t hear anything through the glass. I knew the signs. One look and I felt my stomach sink. Infected. A live one, right on our doorstep.

Amber looked back and shrieked. She put her hand to her mouth like she could suddenly force back any more screams. The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open. We stepped inside, my heart pounding as I watched the woman chewing on one of the bars of the gate. The elevator doors closed, but not before one last look at her pair of dead eyes.

The elevator hummed as it hauled us up. The cramped box rattled a little, and the fluorescent light overhead buzzed, making my nerves itch. It almost felt safe in here, but I knew it was just a trick of closed doors and bad lighting.

Amber pressed herself against the wall, arms wrapped around her stomach. Her hands shook, and she stared at the floor like she was trying to keep her feet from floating away. There were no tears. She looked emptied out, like all the grief in her had burned off and left nothing but smoke.

I pulled her against me. She didn’t resist and sagged into my chest, breathing shallow and fast. I stroked her back, the way you calm down a dog that’s heard too much thunder.

“We’re getting through this,” I said. “Whatever comes next, I’ve got you.”

She nodded against my chest, breathing in a small, broken sound. I held her tighter. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do to erase what she’d just seen. I wished I could pull that memory right out of her head, but all I had was an awkward hug and a couple of useless words.

For me, losing my father was different. I never saw his body, never stood in a room still heavy with the smell of blood and cologne. Amber just got the worst version of goodbye. I couldn’t imagine it. And, knowing myself, I probably wouldn’t handle it half as well as she was right now.

It was the longest elevator ride in the history of man. I was never good with feelings, especially someone else’s. I wanted to help Amber, but the only thing my brain coughed up was the one truth rattling around in my head.

“You know, Amber, I’ve been in love with you for a while now.”

She made a choking sound against my chest, then shoved herself away from me. “Are you fucking serious?”

I blinked. “What?”

She jammed both hands into my chest, shoving me back into the elevator wall so hard my shoulder bounced off the handrail. “My father just died, the city’s turning into a horror movie, and that’s what you want to say?”

I held up my hands. Yeah, not the best timing. But it’s all I could think of. Sometimes I’m a real idiot when it comes to comfort.

“Sorry, I…”

She just stared at me. I stared back. My tongue felt like sandpaper. The elevator doors finally opened with a ding that sounded like a mercy killing.

We stepped out, and Amber jaunted ahead of me as we hurried towards my apartment. She likely wasn’t thinking about her predicament anymore, so maybe that was a win for me.

I unlocked the door with shaking hands, ushering her inside before locking it behind us.

Inside the apartment, I went straight to the closet and grabbed my backpack. I started shoving in everything that made sense. My knife went in first, then the first aid kit, a box of protein bars, water bottles, and a flashlight. I checked my Glock and dropped in two extra magazines, then stuffed every bill of cash I had left into a side pocket. Money probably wasn’t going to matter for long, but it would motivate people long enough for me to run out.

I glanced at Amber. She still hadn’t moved, just standing there with her arms hugging her chest, eyes lost somewhere on the wall. Or she could have been staring at a bug for all I know.

“We need to move,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could. “After I’m done, we can go to your apartment. Pack light: clothes, meds, and anything you can’t live without. We’re grabbing Gabriel and getting out before dark.”

She wiped her face, nodded. “For what it’s worth, I love you too.”

I paused in my packing, crossing the room to take her hands in mine. "I know this is hard," I said, looking into her eyes. "But we're going to make it through this. I promise."

She looked up at me. “I just told you I love you.”

“I heard you. Thank you.”

She tilted her head to the side like she was trying to figure me out. Good luck with that, baby. Then she squeezed my hands.  “I’m going across the hall. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

As she started to pull away, I pulled her back into my arms. “Do you need me to go with you?”

She shook her head. “No, do what you have to do. I’ll be fine. I have no choice right now. We have to go.”

I kissed her hard on the lips. Our teeth clicked, and she pulled back with a laugh and rubbed her mouth. “A little aggressive there.”

“Sorry,” is all I could say.

Amber kissed my cheek and left my apartment. Once the door shut behind Amber, I just stood there. An image flashed in my mind of that infected man’s face, or what was left of it, after Amber stabbed him with a knife. His body hit the floor in a heap, twitching once before going still. Before that, he had survived two bullet shots and multiple hits to the body. He felt no pain and just kept coming. That’s what we were up against.

I turned back to my bag, grabbing at whatever survival gear was left. Into my bag I showed socks, matches, paracord, a water filter, and batteries. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard my drill sergeant’s voice telling me to keep it tight, check every pocket, think ahead. I should have done more thinking ahead. Maybe if I’d finished Special Forces, I’d have more answers right now. Or maybe I’d just have a better way to die.

How was I going to keep it all together? I barely killed that man in the house, and I had Amber’s help. In all fairness, she killed him (and we still hadn’t talked about it). What if he bit me? It would have all been over, and Amber and Gabriel would be on their own. I had to be smarter, faster, and more decisive. I had already allowed myself to wait too long to get Gabriel and get out of the city, and now I had to rush. Dr. Cohen had given me the benefit of days ahead of this mess, and I squandered it. If I had followed my gut, Gabriel and Amber would be with me outside the city. We’d all be safe, away from the the infected. While I was trying to figure out if this virus was the real thing, I let myself waste time. Now, here we are, facing a city filled with people rising from the dead.

My phone buzzed, yanking me out of my head. Jack O’Connor’s name flashed across the screen. I answered and didn’t have a chance to say hello.

“I can’t believe what’s happening,” Jack shouted. “Some lunatic smashed our window and started attacking people.”

“Are you and Emily okay?”

The wait felt like sitting in a foxhole, counting seconds. Finally, another buzz.

“We’re fine. Rahim shot the guy. We closed up the store. I’m heading to my cabin in the Poconos. You should make your way there if things get worse.”

I stared at the screen, running through my mental map of Pennsylvania. Jack’s cabin was remote, probably stocked with everything in a prepper's wet dream. If Jack was thinking bug-out, it meant he knew just how deep in the shit we already were.

"Thanks, Jack. I'll definitely keep that in mind. Stay safe out there."

I put the phone down, and my thoughts spun. Jack’s cabin sounded like a real option. It was the kind of place where you could hear someone coming before they got within a hundred yards. The city, for all its noise and bodies, was starting to feel like a steel trap.

But I shoved the idea to the back for now.

When it came to the firepower, I slowed down, double-checking every weapon and every round. The Remington 870 shotgun, flashlight attached to the fore-end, fit snug in the big duffel, barrel wrapped in a towel. The Ruger AR-556 got broken down and slid in next to it, with two mags taped together for quick swaps. The Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum rode in a heavy holster at my belt, its grip worn smooth. My Glock 17 fit perfectly under my left arm. The Sig P226, another insurance policy, rode in a boot holster, hidden beneath the cuff of my jeans.

I looked around the apartment one last time, counting what I’d miss. Nothing made the cut. Home wasn’t a place anymore.

I did one last sweep of the apartment and stopped in front of my Gibson J-45, propped up next to the bookshelf. That guitar had seen more of my life than most people ever would. I’d played it during sleepless nights, crappy birthdays, breakups, and every time I thought I was losing my mind. It never let me down. I wasn’t about to leave it for some looter with sticky fingers and bad taste in music.

I lifted the guitar, feeling the familiar curve of the wood. The surface was worn smooth from years of playing, but the body was still solid. I slung the strap over my shoulder and across my back, fitting the neck just so, making sure it wouldn’t bang into the Remington or get tangled with the bag straps. The weight was comforting, almost like having an old friend at my back.

I stepped into the hallway and locked the door, the keys cold in my hand, then shoved them deep in my pocket. The pack was heavy, my gear digging into both shoulders, and the guitar rode a little awkwardly on top. I muttered under my breath, “If I get jumped by a zombie carrying all this crap, I deserve to be lunch.”

continue to chapter 8

ZE: Safe Haven Part 4 Content Sneak Peek

I am adding minor events that occur to simulate realistic things that challenge the group. Below is a sample code to show how these events play out.

In this first example, heavy rains affect the junkyard. You can see that based on different structures, you may lose valuable resources.

In this next example, rats tried to break into the junkyard. You can see in the first section of code that building an electric fence steps the rats. So does a barbed wire fence, but there is a loss of morale because the animals squeal when injured. The last section of code occurs if you have no defenses. In that case, you suffer the greatest losses.

There will be different scenarios/events depending on the group leader and other variables so that you will get different content spread out across the chapter and different playthroughs.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven Part 4 Test Version (Sept 25, 2025)

Here's the link:

Test version (click here)

Part 4 is over 1,010,000 words! Please check the log notes after loading the page above.

On CoGDemos, you must create a free account to save your game!

Guidelines

• Please do not share details outside of here.

• Keep all comments in this thread.

• Good feedback is sometimes specific to your primary MC but should often be generalizable to other MCs.

• Your saved games cannot be loaded outside of the app. CoG does not give developers access to this.  I added an experimental save system if you want to try it out. It pops up at the top of the form after the first click on next.  For those familiar with CJW's save system, this is the one I'm using. It may not work between major updates.

To help with testing, please review the bulleted list in the change log on the first page of the test site.

Nora from ZESH, version 1

Here is the initial sketch of Nora as she was seen when first introduced in Part 1. What are your thoughts? Do you have any suggestions to make her look more authentic?

For my visually impaired readers: The image is a black-and-white line drawing of Nora shown from the waist up. She has her hair pulled back into a bun and a lined face with visible cheekbones and wrinkles.

She is wearing a plaid button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves. The shirt is open, showing a plain T-shirt underneath. One hand is tucked into a pocket while the other hangs loosely at her side.

Games by JimD Newsletter – Game Updates, Future Plans

Welcome to my 95th newsletter! This has been a strange month. I’ve been working exclusively on Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4, and trying to work out the bugs, fix grammar and spelling issues, and add content that I missed before. It’s not been my normal work months, since I typically write for the first twenty-five days and then spend the last few testing and editing. This has been mostly editing and troubleshooting.

Since I am a chronic planner, I’m already thinking of what to do next. After I send Part 4 to Hosted Games, I have several things to continue writing. Mainly, I’m thinking of going back to Zombie Exodus: Stronghold. It’s halfway finished, and I could get it out within a few months. I have concerns about completing this game, and I will ask your opinion. You can read about it below.

In this newsletter, I will review my development plans, as always. Let's get started.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4

Part 4 is 1,006,000 words, which is 18,000 words this month. I hit that million-word milestone but have kept on adding to the game. A few great testers have been pointing out many issues, and I have been bagging them off one by one. It’s definitely a situation where I fix one thing and notice others. I aim to finish by the beginning of October, which is still later than I had hoped. I can’t see handing in the game when there are errors.

There will be a few things that I get to before I hand in, namely some of the background-specific missions. I’m worried that people will think I overlooked them. I plan to put a note at the end of Part 4 to inform everyone reading that I plan to write a free update that will include all that content. Unfortunately, not everyone reads notes at the end of the game. I plan to make a lot of posts on social media to let everyone know about my plan.

Future Development

After I turn in Part 4, I have three major things I want to work on:

1. Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven free update, including background-specific missions, age customization, and more romantic content.

2. Finishing Zombie Exodus: Stronghold.

3. Starting Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 5.

All of these seem important to me. The free update will give people the content they’ve requested. But I really want to finish Zombie Exodus: Stronghold. Part 5 would be great to start, but I don’t see it as a priority.

My biggest concern right now is giving the fans what they want. I’m going to give you full disclosure and talk openly.

Zombie Exodus: Stronghold is nowhere near as popular as Safe Haven. I love Stronghold, and people do read it, but it’s small compared to Safe Haven's readership. A published series will always have a bigger fan base, but I always thought Stronghold should have more interest.

If I stop producing content for Safe Haven for the next six months, I fear people will become disinterested in my projects. That could mean less support on Patreon, less community involvement on social media and Discord, and falling off to follow other games. When I have spent over a decade cultivating a readership, it would not be very smart to make a decision that would weaken my community.

I could work on multiple things simultaneously, but it divides my time and makes everything slower.

So, I want to ask what you think I should do. I put up a poll to ask your opinion.

Zombie Exodus: Stronghold

Stronghold is up to 150,000 words so far. If you are interested in testing it, please check out the link below:

https://cogdemos.ink/play/jimd/zombie-exodus-stronghold-public-beta/mygame/ 

Deadbury Academy

Deadbury Academy was updated a few months ago, and I posted a new demo at the following location.

https://cogdemos.ink/play/jimd/deadbury-academy/mygame/

As you may remember, I put the development of this game on hold until I finish writing Safe Haven, Part 4.

That's all for this month.

Future Development

With Part 4 of Safe Haven almost ready to hand in, I’m looking ahead at what comes next. I have a few big projects on the table, but I’d like to know what you want me to focus on first. Your feedback will help me decide where to put my energy after Part 4 is done.

MC POV - Interactive Story - 16

Continued from scene 15

Ryan jogs to the end of the hallway and disappears into a bedroom. You hear drawers sliding open and slamming shut, the muffled sound of Ryan muttering to himself as he digs through things. After a few moments, he steps back out, clutching something close to his chest. He glances your way but doesn’t stop, hurrying into another room across the hall. More rummaging follows: closet doors rolling, shoes scraping on wood, and hurried footsteps as he checks each corner.

Jessica turns to you, keeping her voice low. “We should probably only scavenge for a little while before we head back to your place. We need to make sure it’s safe for the night. It’s 7 o’clock, but the sun is going down soon.”

A few minutes later, Ryan appears at the top of the stairs, a stuffed school bag slung over one shoulder. “I’m ready,” he says, panting with a flushed face.

You move downstairs together, the boards creaking under your weight. At the front door, you crack it open just enough to look outside. The night is alive with chaos. You hear sirens wail from several directions, followed by bursts of gunfire. Overhead, a helicopter’s blades chop the air, its engine rumbling low. Somewhere nearby, a scream shatters the brief silence, then fades just as quickly.

Jessica stands close, her shoulder brushing yours. “On second thought, maybe we should just go back to your house, Elijah.”

Ryan glances at you both. “If we go somewhere with fewer people, there’s less chance of the infection spreading. In biology, they call it ‘limiting vectors.’ The fewer hosts there are, the slower the disease moves.”

You and Jessica both gave Ryan an impressed look.

Continue to scene 17

Content Sneak Peek

Below is a new scene I wrote that takes place in chapter 16 only if you have a radio room built. Since you get to pick the radio operator, the example below is showing Woody as the radio operator. And since you may have different relationships with Thelma's gang, I wrote below as if you are allies with them.

---

You stand with Jaime and Rachel near the hood of an old truck, a map spread across the metal. Jaime taps a calloused finger on the contour lines of the valley while Rachel leans in, one hand braced on the hood, her other shading the paper from the afternoon glare.

The door of the main house creaks open. Footsteps crunch across the gravel. Woody walks over, the radio handset dangling from his hand. He scratches his beard, glancing uneasily between you, Rachel, and Jaime. "Thelma just came through on the radio. She’s talking about puttin' together trade with other groups and asked if we’d want to come back to the Funride Amusement Park for it." He clears his throat, frowning. "Trading in a place built for funhouses and roller coasters sounds adventurous."

Jaime leans over the map again, his finger pressing near the mark for the amusement park. "If Thelma is reaching out to us, then she's showing trust. The Red Mambas have treated us fairly, and working with them could make that bond stronger."

Rachel folds her arms across her chest and studies the map. "The setting is not ideal, but allies are in short supply. If they are offering trade, then we should at least hear what they have to say."

Jaime looks at you and nods. "It feels like an opportunity that we can't ignore."

Parker from ZE:SH, final version

This is the final version for Parker.

He wears a light blue hooded sweatshirt with the hood up and dark sunglasses. He has a thick gold chain hangs around his neck with a large gold cross pendant. His hair is dark brown, short on the sides and longer on top. He also wears a gold wristwatch on his left wrist.

This is how he looks when he is first introduced Part 1. Some people don't agree but if you read his introduction, you will see it matches.

Writing Updates

September is a busy month because I am supposed to hand in Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven Part 4 before the end of the month. I will discuss that below, but coding, editing, and troubleshooting have taken up most of my time.

I’m also thinking about what happens after I turn in this part of the game. I keep going back and forth on my plans and will ask for feedback in my newsletter on the twentieth. I believe in being honest with everyone and truly listen to my readers. So, the future is up in the air.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven Part 4 Progress

At the moment, we are up to 995,000 words. That does not include all the new code, so we are easily over 1 million words. However, I have more to write. There are sections I skipped over to complete specific chapters, and now I’m returning to them.

For example, if you have to deal with a confrontation between multiple romantic partners, I never wrote the scenes where you are confronted by them individually. Now, I’m writing those scenes.

I’m also fine-tuning the trade system and adding a few items, such as an engagement ring. So far, finding an engagement ring is tough to scavenge, and trading for one would make the system even more valuable. If you never plan to marry, at least you’ll have one more item to trade.

I have a considerable number of bug fixes to make. With a game of this size, it’s tough to troubleshoot. Often, I skip content to reach sections with bugs, and I rely on reports from beta testers to keep finding new errors. I’m sure there will still be errors when I turn in the first version of Part 4. My main goal is to remove any errors that cause crashes. Otherwise, I can quickly fix them after the game goes live.

We are almost there. The end is in sight, finally! Thank you for all your patience.

ZE: Safe Haven Content Questions

I'm writing more scenes where you are confronted by multiple romantic partners (those not interested in a poly/open relationship). Some have asked to have private conversations.

1. In the scene that follows, you discuss your relationship with one of your romantic partners. If you want to try to stay with them, do you think it should be based on their personality alone or a skill check? Or a combination of both?

For example, say you are dealing with Madison. She's a volatile, sometimes confident partner but she also shows moments of vulnerability. Do you think she can be persuaded to stay with you if she thinks you are interested in someone else? Do you think a Persuasion check would be reasonable?

2. Also, would you want to deal with a cheating scenario? Let's say that your partner may cheat on you. That can be a particularly difficult scenario for players. Do you think I should avoid writing them in the game? Or do you think there should be a warning, or that you should be asked whether or not such content is allowed in the game?

For those of you who need an example, say you walked in on Madison making out with Kevin, or Reilly making out with Gina?

MC POV - Interactive Story - 15

Continued from scene 14

You see the bathroom door unlock with a soft click. It cracks open just enough for a pale, narrow face to peek out. Ryan looks about fifteen, thin and lanky, with messy brown hair hanging over his forehead. His eyes are red and swollen from crying, and his cheeks are streaked with old tears. He wears a faded Saints t-shirt and loose basketball shorts, and mismatched socks bunched around his ankles. He scans the hallway, one hand gripping the doorknob tight.

Jessica steps forward, keeping her voice gentle. “Hey, I’m Jessica. This is Elijah. We live in the neighborhood, just a few streets over. We’ve been friends a while, and I promise, we’re really good people.”

You nod, lowering your rifle a bit. “It’s rough outside right now, but if you stay close, we can take care of you.”

Ryan looks around, taking in the mess of the hallway. “I just have a few things I want to get from around the house, if that’s okay. I won't be long, and I promise, I'm not trying to run away or whatever. Is it okay if I just take, like, ten minutes?"

Continue to scene 16

Outbreak Scenario 26

It’s been four months since the outbreak, and most cities have fallen to the undead. You’ve been moving carefully through backroads and avoiding the main highways until now.

Your supplies are low, and the fastest route to the next safe zone runs straight through a massive interstate choked with abandoned cars. Twisted metal, shattered glass, and burnt-out husks form a maze stretching for miles.

As you climb onto an overpass to scout ahead, you see zombies drifting between the vehicles. They’re not in a frenzy, just shambling and scattered.

Then you notice something worse. Figures move among the wrecks. Survivors are armed and watching the road. They’ve turned the clogged highway into a hunting ground, preying on anyone desperate enough to pass through.

It would take you days to turn back and take a different path.

Schedule for September, 2025

If you haven't checked out my latest newsletter, it is now open to every member.

9/3 -- Outbreak scenario poll (Free tier)

9/4 -- Zombie Exodus: Side Stories (MC POV) scene 15. ($3+ tiers)

9/6 -- Content Sneak Peek ($3+ tiers)

9/9 -- Game updates (Free tier)

9/12 -- Content Sneak Peek ($1+ tiers)

9/16 -- Zombie Exodus: Side Stories (MC POV) scene 16. ($3+ tiers)

9/18 -- Character or Content Poll ($10+ tiers)

9/20 -- Newsletter. ($1+ tiers)

9/22 -- Content Sneak Peek ($3+ tiers)

9/25 -- Monthly Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4 Alpha Test ($5+ tiers)

9/27 -- Content poll (free tier)

9/29 -- New Original Story. ($10+ tiers)

ZE Outbreak Novel, Chapter 6

continued from chapter 5

Pharmacy, Afternoon of Wednesday, May 9, 2012

A few customers ran near us and grabbed items off the shelf, stuffing them into bags without a second thought. As I peeked out farther, more people were doing the same. The only safe store in Philadelphia had fallen to looters.

"What do we do?" Amber asked, placing her hand on my shoulder. Her tremor ran through my body, making me want to wrap my arms around her or kill everyone in this store who made her feel like this.

"We need to go. We need to look for an opening. Until then, we stay low. Don’t make eye contact with anyone. If we see an opportunity, we take it and get out of here—”

"But I need my medication, and my dad's."

Before I could move, a handful of customers rushed the pharmacy counter. Their hands clawed at the metal gate, trying to pry it open. One guy climbed onto it, his shoes slipping as he tried to wedge his fingers and feet through the wire, shaking it like he could tear it down by force.

A security guard fired a shot, the bullet slamming into the gate with a metallic clang. That single shot pulled every eye in the room. The mob turned on him, chasing him down the aisle until both the guard and the crowd disappeared from view.

It felt like an opening if there ever was one. My hand fell to my Glock, and I chambered a round. But in that moment a strange feeling came over me. It wasn’t fear but something else. Excitement? Anticipation? While Amber was fidgeting next to me, a calmness washed over my body. It was the same sensation I received when I was killing Daniel Thorne.

Amber grabbed my arm, pulling me out of our hiding spot. For a second, I just stared, then I saw her heading for the pharmacy’s back door, cracked open. Two tech stood in the doorway, a young woman named Sarah and a middle-aged man named Malcolm, based on their name tags.

"We can't just leave everything behind!" Sarah shouted. She was twisting the metal doorknob over and over nervously.

"And staying here is a fucking death wish!" Malcolm shouted back. “I’m not sticking around for twelve dollars an hour and a chance at a bullet in my head.”

As Amber and I approached, Sarah and Malcolm tensed, ready to back away.

"We’re not here to cause trouble," Amber said with a smile. She held up her phone and pointed. "We just need our prescriptions. My dad has a bad heart, and I’ve got asthma. We’re not here to steal anything. I’ll pay for everything, I swear."

Another round of gunshots cracked from the front, making all of us flinch. Sarah yanked us inside and Malcolm slammed the door, shutting out the noise from the main store.

Malcolm’s head snapped toward the gunfire, his jaw tight and his shoulders tight. "Get your own medicine. I’m out," he said, already running for the back exit.

Sarah squeezed the bridge of her nose, shoulders slumped. "I can’t believe this is happening. I really thought we were the one store that would make it through today."

People slammed into the metal cage surrounding the pharmacy. The gate rattled and clanged as they tried to shake it loose. Sarah’s face tightened, eyes darting from the gate to us.

“Take whatever you need. That gate isn’t going to hold them for long. God bless you both.” Sarah grabbed two bottles and a box labeled nitroglycerin, her hands shaking as she checked the labels. She swept a row of antibiotics into her bag, added three boxes of insulin pens, and snatched up a handful of inhalers. Painkillers, bandages, and blood pressure meds went in next. She moved between the shelves and the buckling gate, stuffing her bag until it bulged.

Amber was already moving, weaving through the shelves, grabbing medication and her inhaler. I stayed by the door, pistol out, and eyes locked on the gate. The chain holding it to the wall stretched with every slam, the metal groaning, but somehow it stayed up.

This was unreal. At any moment, that gate would fall, and that mob was going to tear into this back room and rip it apart like locusts. I was a good shot, but I couldn’t stop a few dozen people from trampling us. Two or three people would fall before the sheer numbers would overtake me. There was no telling what would happen after that.

"I've got them," Amber said, holding up the medications. The bottle in her right hand rattled as she showed me, and she was biting her lip so hard, I thought she might bleed.

"Good, now grab antibiotics and pain meds. Look for Amoxicillin and Oxycodone. Grab as many as you can fit in your bag. We might need them."

Amber lunged for the shelf, her hand snatching up bottle after bottle. She found more inhalers on a back shelf, double-checked the labels, then tossed them in with a handful of albuterol refills. She barely glanced up and kept her focus locked on grabbing everything she could before the crowd broke through.

Sarah bolted for the back door, her bag stuffed full. The alley swallowed her up just as the gate started to buckle. I slipped into the aisle beside Amber. "It's time to go."

We followed Sarah, feet slapping the cracked pavement. I slammed the door behind us, the metal frame rattling as I threw the bolt. Almost right away, a crash echoed from inside, followed by a fresh round of shouts and boots pounding the floor. Something hit the door, making it vibrate under my hands. Amber shrieked but let out a nervous laugh as the door held.

We sprinted the length of the narrow alley and burst out onto the street. Pure luck and Amber’s fast thinking had gotten us out. If she hadn’t spotted that open door to the back of the pharmacy, we’d still be trapped inside the store, or worse, lying on that tile floor.

“Everything’s out of control,” Amber said, crouching with her back to the brick wall, arms wrapped around her handbag. “We need to leave, like you’ve been saying. But I need to get to my father and give him his medicine. Is there any way we can take him with us?”

I opened my mouth but couldn’t speak. She wouldn’t want to hear what I said. She caught my hesitation, and her cheeks turned red and her eyes narrowed.

“It’s going to be tough to bring him if he’s not in good health,” I said. “But he’s your father. We’ll take him with us. It might be difficult, but we’ll make it work.”

Amber let out a shaky breath, her shoulders finally dropping. Faster than I could blink, she pressed herself against me, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt. Her head tucked into my neck, breath warm and uneven. For a moment, she just held on tight, like she was trying to forget the world. I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer.

Amber and I kept to the edge of 12th Street, weaving around abandoned bikes and piles of trash bags. The city was coming apart one block at a time. Looters smashed glass storefronts and clambered over the counters, stuffing backpacks with whatever they could grab. Families loaded up minivans, suitcases and plastic totes stacked in the trunk, everyone shouting at once. Little kids were running around in the street or crying on the sidewalks. The mother was shouting for help somewhere high up in one of the second stories of a home. Ahead of us, blue lights flashed as a wall of police blocked off Arch Street, making the whole stretch impassable.

“He’s on the first floor of a duplex,” Amber said, panting as we power walked. “He’s been there almost twenty years. He always fought me on moving in. Said a woman my age should be out in the world, not stuck taking care of her old man.” She paused, staring ahead, her mouth set in a thin line. “I didn’t want to leave him. Then the cruise ship job came up, and I had to take it. He tells me not to worry, that his buddies from the VFW check in on him, but—” She trailed off, her mouth twisting to keep herself from crying.

When we turned onto her dad’s street, we ran straight into the aftermath of a head-on collision. Two cars had smashed together in the middle of what should have been a one-way street. Broken glass and bits of metal littered the road. A bent fender blocked part of the sidewalk, so I steadied Amber as she climbed over it, not that she needed help. She swung her leg over the fender with barely a pause, landing light on her feet. She was a dancer by trade, and I had to remind myself I was probably going to slow her down.

When we got to the house, the front door was wide open. The sound of running water came from deep in the house, and a pigeon flew out and over our heads, causing us both to duck.

Amber froze at the open door, her breath catching. "Oh my God," she whispered, planting her feet at the threshold.

I caught her arm, holding her back. "Stay here. Let me check it out first."

She twisted in my grip, her eyes wild. "It’s my father in there…"

“Amber, let me go first. We don’t know what’s inside.” I pulled out my Glock and chambered a round.

Amber’s fists clenched, knuckles white. She blinked hard, swallowing tears, but wouldn’t look away from the door. Her jaw tightened, and she set her shoulders, breathing in short, angry bursts. She looked like she might bolt through the open door anyway, but for now, she took a step backwards and gave me a simple nod.

I crept up to the door and tucked my pistol against my ribs, just like they taught us in training. The door hung open, swinging slightly on its hinges, creaking with every breeze. It felt like walking into a trap. I shot a look back at Amber, still by the pavement, hugging herself with her eyes locked on me. I held out my hand, and she nodded again.

The place was a wreck. Couch cushions were tossed onto the floor, drawers were yanked open, and papers and old photographs were scattered everywhere. A chair lay overturned by the window with one of the legs nearly broken off. It didn’t look random. Someone had torn through this place like they were looking for something. My pulse hammered in my ears as I stepped over the mess.

Then I saw a streak of blood trailing down the hallway, smudged in spots like someone tried to crawl or was dragged. It led to a bedroom at the back of the house with the door half-open. Everything told me to grab Amber and run as far from here as I could. But she wouldn’t run. I had no choice but to move on and see what I feared.

I followed the blood and tightened the grip on my gun. As I entered the bedroom, I saw the old man lying on the floor, blood already drying on the back of his neck. I had never met Amber’s father, but he was dead in front of me.

The bed sat in the middle, sheets twisted and bunched, and a dark smear of blood marked the fabric near the pillow. A sock and an old Phillies T-shirt lay tangled near the edge. Family photos crowded the far wall. One showed Amber as a kid at the Jersey shore, her dad in a VFW cap. Their frozen smiles stared out at the mess in the room.

A sharp tang of blood cut through the lingering scent of aftershave. Shards from a broken lamp spread across the carpet, crunching under my boots. I stepped around the glass, trying not to leave prints, but the trail was already set. A single bloody handprint on the wall streaked downward, pointing toward the foot of the bed.

One window stood open, curtains billowing in the breeze, letting in the sounds of distant sirens. I caught the faint creak of floorboards in the hallway behind me and tightened my grip on the Glock.

Footsteps grew louder, approaching the bedroom. I stepped into the hallway, my gun held low, only to see Amber walking towards me. Her face was pale with her lips pressed together. Tears filled her eyes.

"Is my dad—"

She took a few steps and bolted towards the door, trying to run past me. I grabbed her, pulling her against me. She collapsed into my arms, her body shaking with sobs.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry."

I held her, letting her press her face against my shoulder. Her grip tightened, her breath coming in uneven bursts. I didn’t know what to say. I was never good at this part. When people died in my life, I felt little. When my mother died, I remember wondering not how I would never see her again or even where I was going to live, but what I was going to have for dinner that night.

The world outside had gone to hell, and now Amber’s was splintered too. When she stopped crying, she pulled away, wiped her face with the back of her hand, and straightened up.

“We should call the police. They need to know what happened here.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand.

I nodded and reached for my phone, when a sound came from within the house. We both turned our heads towards the staircase going down. Feet shuffled over hardwood, and something clattered against a wall.

"It's coming from the kitchen," Amber whispered, her eyes wide.

I stepped towards the railing and looked over, holding my going out with both hands. "Stay here," I told her.

But Amber was already moving, following close behind me as I stepped along the hallway. I can’t blame her. If I just found my father dead, I’d be wondering if the killer was still in my house.

The sound grew louder as we approached the kitchen. An odd noise flowed from inside the room. It sounded like moaning from deep in the stomach like an injured animal. I raised my gun with my finger on the trigger, as we rounded the corner.

A figure stood in the kitchen, with his back turned to us. The hood of a gray sweatshirt hung low, the fabric torn at the shoulder and spattered with dark, rusty stains. His jeans sagged at the waist and were threadbare and streaked with filth. What used to be white tennis shoes were now yellowed and thick with grime. A sour, rotting smell drifted off him, like a sourness of something rotting deep in a garbage can.

As the figure turned to face us, everything in my world flipped upside. He had jaundiced skin. Green lesions broke through the yellow and marred his face, oozing with pus and blood. His eyes were milky white, shot through the center with a bead of red, like the yolk of a spoiled egg floating in cloudy water.

He stumbled forward like he had forgotten he had to be a human. His mouth sagged open and let out a shrill scream that sent Amber tumbling backwards, tripping over her own feet.

I wasn’t afraid of him. I wasn’t afraid of much in this world and stood frozen as I tried to figure out this thing in front of us. He wasn’t even a person anymore. Whatever he used to be had rotted out and was replaced by something running on empty. The virus had hollowed him out and left behind this walking disaster. Looking at him, it was obvious that whatever made him human was long gone. He was a shell, shuffling around, looking for something to tear apart.

I raised my pistol and leveled it at the infected guy, lining up the sights with his ruined face. My pulse hammered in my ears. That old surge of adrenaline was back, making my hands perfectly still. I wanted to shoot him, but part of me wanted to see what he would do next.

He stared back with those milky, ruined eyes, not even blinking. I drew in a breath and let it out slowly, focusing on the simple rhythm of aim and breathe. It was just me, the gun, and whatever this thing had become.

continue to chapter 7

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven Part 4 Test Version (August 23, 2025)

Here's the link:

Test version (click here)

Part 4 is over 985,000 words! Please check the log notes after loading the page above.

On CoGDemos, you must create a free account to save your game!

Guidelines

• Please do not share details outside of here.

• Keep all comments in this thread.

• Good feedback is sometimes specific to your primary MC but should often be generalizable to other MCs.

• Your saved games cannot be loaded outside of the app. CoG does not give developers access to this.  I added an experimental save system if you want to try it out. It pops up at the top of the form after the first click on next.  For those familiar with CJW's save system, this is the one I'm using. It may not work between major updates.

To help with testing, please review the bulleted list in the change log on the first page of the test site.

Games by JimD Newsletter – Game Updates, Trade System  

Welcome to my 94th newsletter! This has been a great month. My health is getting better, and I am back to work full-time. Most of it has been spent on Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4, especially the trade system I will discuss later in this newsletter. We are getting close to the 1-million-word mark for this part. I’m not including some code that supports the narrative, or I would easily be over a million words.

I will release the demo of the new trade system on Saturday to patrons at the Adviser tier or higher. This includes unique items only obtainable through the trade system, including new weapons, uniforms/outfits, and vanity items.

My goal is to finish all play testing and bug fixing it next month and finally submit this part to Hosted Games.

In this newsletter, I will review my development plans, as always. Let's get started.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4

Part 4 is 988,000 words, with over 35,000 words added this month. I have been working on the trade system almost exclusively. However, people have been sending me bug reports I need to fix (shout out to Aaron Meyers and Momahony676 for all their bug reports and testing). I also need to finish lingering scenes, such as the love triangle with the MC, Kevin, and Madison. All of that should go in the last demo/beta next month.

After Part 4 heads to HG, I will return to Zombie Exodus: Stronghold. I should be able to complete that game within six months. I know the game isn’t as interesting to everyone as ZE:SH, but I encourage you to play it. It’s based on the same system as ZE:SH and has a unique storyline where you are trying to survive from within a mega-haven built for the rich and powerful. It’s a standalone game with a great cast of characters and a definite twist on the main character.

After Part 4 comes out, I will begin writing a free update (4-2 until I think of a better name) that will include 250,000+ more words of content.

Trade System

The system allows you to trade with up to five groups in the area, including the Southern Ute, Red Mamba Biker Club, Museum Group, River Dogs, and Silverthornes. You offer items to them and receive trade value, which you can spend on their list of offered items. For example, if you have lots of flares and first-aid kits but want one of those unique weapons and a brand-new outfit, you can use the trade value you have accumulated to purchase those items.

Each faction offers different values for items and will buy at different prices. For example, the River Dogs will buy Kevlar vests for 6 credits while the Silverthornes will buy them for 16 credits. The River Dogs will sell them to you at 8 credits, while the Silverthornes will sell them for 18 credits. You can see from these examples how you can already manipulate the system. You could buy Kevlar vests from the River Dogs for 8 credits and sell them to the Silverthornes for 16 credits. I set this system up this way on purpose. For one, the River Dogs are across the lake and easy to get to. The Silverthornes are much farther away and harder to trade with. This affects the pricing.

Since you visit the Southern Ute in chapter 13 and the River Dogs in chapter 15, you can trade with them in Part 4. I’m considering writing a scene where you can visit any trade partner during downtime between chapters. I may have to push that back to the next update, but I’ll try to make it happen for the release.

I’m hoping Hosted Games can publish Part 4 before the end of the year, but their queue for new releases is quite long. I will keep you posted on how things go.

Zombie Exodus: Stronghold

Stronghold is up to 150,000 words so far. If you are interested in testing it, please check out the link below:

https://cogdemos.ink/play/jimd/zombie-exodus-stronghold-public-beta/mygame/ 

Deadbury Academy

Deadbury Academy was updated a few months ago, and I posted a new demo at the following location.

https://cogdemos.ink/play/jimd/deadbury-academy/mygame/

As you may remember, I put the development of this game on hold until I finish writing Safe Haven, Part 4.

That's all for this month.

MC POV - Interactive Story - 14

You rest your hand against the bathroom door, speaking clearly so Ryan can hear you through the wood.

Continued from scene 13

You rest your hand against the bathroom door, speaking clearly so Ryan can hear you through the wood. “I’m sorry. She was turning. I had to stop her before it got worse.”

The hallway is silent. Only the faint hum of the air conditioner and distant traffic outside filter through. Ryan doesn’t answer. Seconds pass, stretching thin. You can see Jessica watching you, her arms wrapped tight around herself, shoulders tense.

A burst of sirens wails somewhere beyond the block, joined by the distant crackle of gunfire echoing through the neighborhood. The steady chop of helicopter blades fills the air overhead, its shadow sweeping across the bedroom window and across the hallway walls. Jessica grabs your arm. You can feel her breath quicken as she looks past you, eyes wide, searching the landing for any sign of movement.

After a moment, Jessica whispers to you, “Elijah, what are we going to do?”

Before you can answer, Ryan speaks up, his voice muffled. “Excuse me, sir…if my mother is dead, what happens to me?”

Continue to scene 15

Parker from ZE:SH, version 2

Here is an updated image of Parker. I asked my artist to make him look a little older but relaxed. And I asked for a gold cross to be added to the necklace.

For my visually impaired readers: The sketch shows Parker standing, wearing a hoodie with the hood up, dark sunglasses, and a wristwatch on his left wrist. Around his neck hangs a thick chain with a large cross pendant. His hair remains short on the sides and longer on top, with a wave visible under the hood.