jimdattilo

Writing Updates

This month has already been a lot better than the last few. My health concerns are getting better. I had surgery almost a month ago, but I’m healing nicely. Today was my follow-up with the surgeon, and I’m doing well. Thanks to everyone who has been sending me well wishes.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven Part 4 Progress

I’ve been working very hard this month on the new trade system. I will have a larger write-up in my newsletter at the end of the month, but here are some quick facts about it.

In the first version, you will be able to trade with the following groups:

• Southern Ute

• Red Mamba Biker Club (Thelma’s group)

• Museum group

• River dogs

• Silverthornes

You will need to be friendly with them or be in an alliance to be able to trade. Trading will be less narrative (meaning there’s less of a story). When you trade with each group, you will sell items for trade value and use that value to buy items. There will be unique items you can only buy from certain groups. I have been listing these on Patreon and my Discord, but here are a few of the items:

Museum Group

Curator’s Sketchbook: A leather-bound journal filled with pencil renderings of famous ruins, artifacts, and hand-drawn maps.

Red Mamba Biker Club

Snakehead Bottle Opener: A steel opener forged from motorcycle scrap, shaped into a coiled serpent’s head with glowing eyes painted red.

Silverthorne Militia

Chess Set Carved from Ammo Casings: A makeshift chess set with brass and steel pieces crafted from bullet casings.

There will also be new ranged, melee, and hand-to-hand weapons, as well as new outfits.

One of the most exciting parts of the trade system is the economy built around trade. Buying items at a low value for one group and selling them to another at a higher value is possible.

Trading takes time unless you are already visiting the group, so be aware that it will use up your tasks between chapters.

Besides the trade system, I am starting to edit the story and fix the bugs people have reported.

At the moment, we are up to 980,000 words. I have no doubt we will hit that 1-million-word mark next month.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven Artwork poll

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

Parker from ZE:SH

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

For my visually impaired readers: The sketch shows Parker standing with his hands in his pockets. He wears a hooded sweatshirt with the hood up, a thick chain necklace, and dark sunglasses. His hair is short on the sides and longer on top, with a slight wave. He has a watch on his left wrist and casual pants.

ZE:SH New Items

I am adding new items to Part 4. Some of them can be obtained by trading with other groups while others can be found out in the world. Here are the new items so far.

---

RANGED WEAPONS

• PISTOL: Magnum Research BFR: Mod 15| ER: 75 |AMMO: .45-70 Government (River Dogs and Silverthorne Militia)

• SHOTGUN: Benelli M3 Convertible: Mod: 17| ER: 50| AMMO: 12-gauge (River Dogs and Museum Group)

• RIFLE: Barrett M82A1 (.50 BMG): Mod: 30| ER: 1800+ |AMMO: .50 BMG (Silverthorne Militia, Red Mamba Biker Club, and Museum Group)

• BURST WEAPON: H&K 417A2: Mod: 25| ER: 800 |AMMO: 7.62mm (Silverthorne Militia and Museum Group)

• OTHER Barnett Predator CarbonLite Bow: Mod 12| ER 100| AMMO Arrows (Southern Ute)

• OTHER PSE TAC 15i Crossbow Rifle: Mod: 15| ER: 100| AMMO: Bolts (Silverthorne Militia and Red Mamba Biker Club)

MELEE WEAPONS

• Comanche War Spear: Mod 12 (Southern Ute)

• Gunstock War Club: Mod 12 (Southern Ute)

• Curator’s Sabre: Mod 11 (Museum Group)

• Halberd: Mod 15 (Museum Group)

• Riverman’s Hook (Modified Boat Hook): Mod 10 (River Dogs)

• Spiked Tire Iron: Mod 11 (Red Mamba Biker Club)

• Tactical Breaching Axe: Mod 12 (Silverthorne Militia)

HAND-TO-HAND WEAPONS

• Cestus (Ancient Armored Fighting Glove): Mod 6 (Museum Group)

• Katar (Indian Punch Dagger): Mod 8 (Silverthorne Militia)

• Trench Push Dagger (WWI): Mod 7 (Red Mamba Biker Club)

• Weighted Sap Gloves: Mod 5 (River Dogs)

UNIFORMS & OUTFITS

• Counselor's jacket (Empathy +10, Persuasion +5).

• Cowboy/cowgirl outfit (Survival +10, Ranged Weapons +5).

• Field scout uniform (Search +10, Survival +10).

• Mechanic's patchwork overalls (Crafting +10, Driving +5). (Red Mamba Biker Club)

• Militia’s Tactical Vest (Ranged Weapons +10, Intimidation +5)

• Museum Archivist’s Coat (Science +10, Search +10) (Museum Group)

• Paramedic's uniform (Medicine +15, Driving +5).

• Range instructor's vest (Ranged Weapons +10, Search +5).

• River Dogs scavenger gear (Athletics +5, Scavenging +5, Stealth +5).

• Southern Ute buckskin outfit (Survival +10, Stealth +5). (Southern Ute)

SPECIAL ITEMS (mostly for gifting to others or adorning camp)

Museum Group

• Curator’s Sketchbook: A leather-bound journal filled with pencil renderings of famous ruins, artifacts, and hand-drawn maps.

• Civil War Playing Cards: An aged, preserved deck featuring illustrations of Union generals.

Red Mamba Biker Club

• Mix CD: ‘Riding Out the End’: A burned CD in a scratched jewel case. Handwritten playlist on the cover includes Motorhead, Pantera, and Johnny Cash.

• Snakehead Bottle Opener: A steel opener forged from motorcycle scrap, shaped into a coiled serpent’s head with glowing eyes painted red.

River Dogs

• Lucky Dog Bandana: A colorful bandana featuring playful paw prints and symbols representing the River Dogs's mascot.

• Pride Flag: A stitched pride flag made from scavenged fabric.

Silverthorne Militia

• Chess Set Carved from Ammo Casings: A makeshift chess set with brass and steel pieces crafted from bullet casings.

• Patriotic Wall Calendar (2013 Edition): Each month features a bald eagle or battleship.

Southern Ute

• Handmade Cedar Flute: A smooth, compact flute carved from red cedar wood, tuned for short, simple melodies.

• Rabbit Hide Story Blanket: A small patchwork square of soft fur, decorated with stitched figures representing survival tales.

MC POV - Interactive Story - 13

Continued from scene 12

While her back is turned, you grip your rifle and raise it, centering the sights on the back of her head. She rummages in the closet, hands shaking, then suddenly pulls a small pistol from behind a shoebox. She spins toward you, eyes wild, but you squeeze the trigger first. The rifle bucks in your hands. The single shot cracks through the room, and she drops instantly, her body crumpling to the floor beside the closet door.

You lower the rifle and step out into the hallway. Jessica stands a few paces away, her eyes wide. She gives you a weak smile, lips barely moving. Her hands tremble as she smooths them over her shirt.

The door to the bathroom stays closed. For a moment, the only sound is your breathing and the faint buzz of a ceiling fan somewhere down the hall.

From behind the door comes Ryan’s voice, shaky and young. “Did you just shoot my mom?”

Continue to scene 14

Outbreak Scenario 25

It’s late when your phone buzzes. A WhatsApp message arrives from Kenji, an old gaming friend from Japan you haven’t heard from in months.

The text is short. “Watch this.”

A video opens. The footage shows a hospital corridor in chaos. Security in hazmat suits are screaming in the background. A man bites into someone’s neck before being dragged away.

The screen freezes. Then the video vanishes. So does the message. Kenji’s profile disappears.

(It's the day before the outbreak in the USA.)

Schedule for August, 2025

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

8/3 -- Outbreak scenario poll (Free tier)

8/4 -- Zombie Exodus: Side Stories (MC POV) scene 13. ($3+ tiers)

8/6 -- Content Sneak Peek ($3+ tiers)

8/9 -- Game updates (Free tier)

8/12 -- Content Sneak Peek ($1+ tiers)

8/16 -- Zombie Exodus: Side Stories (MC POV) scene 14. ($3+ tiers)

8/18 -- Character or Content Poll ($10+ tiers)

8/20 -- Newsletter. ($1+ tiers)

8/22 -- Content Sneak Peek ($3+ tiers)

8/23 --  Monthly Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4 Alpha Test ($5+ tiers)

8/27 -- Content poll (free tier)

8/29 -- New Original Story. ($10+ tiers)

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven Trade System

I am writing and coding the trading system that will go into Part 4. This will allow you to trade with other groups, such as the Silverthorne Militia, the River Dogs, and others.

I would like to incorporate some unique items that you can only get by trading with other groups. The five groups are as follows:

• Southern Ute

• Red Mamba Biker Club (Thelma's group)

• The Museum group

• River Dogs

• Silverthornes

What types of unique items do you think these groups would have?

For example, I was thinking that the Red Mamba Biker Club may have a Cobray Terminator 12-Gauge Shotgun. It's a bizarre, single-shot, pump-action shotgun from the 1980s.

What items would you recommend for the groups?

ZE Outbreak Novel, Chapter 5

continued from chapter 4 Morning of Wednesday, May 9, 2012 I woke up with Amber still asleep beside me. Her mouth hung open just enough to s

continued from chapter 4

Morning of Wednesday, May 9, 2012

I woke up with Amber still asleep beside me. Her mouth hung open just enough to show a trace of dried drool at the corner. Her hair was a mess, a tangle spread over the pillow. Even like that, she was beautiful.

I eased out of bed so I wouldn’t wake her and got dressed. At the bedroom door, I glanced back. She looked peaceful under the covers, her breathing slow and even.

I loved her being in my bed. Not just the sex part, although it was the best I’ve ever had, Amber gave me a sense of a normal life I hadn’t felt in a long time. At the same time, I couldn’t shake the worry. Could she end up being a distraction? I didn’t want to think of her that way, but it stayed in my head.

I wanted to be there for her. I wanted her safe if the virus turned into a full outbreak. But there was Gabriel too. I had to keep him safe, and he came first. I just didn’t know how I was going to protect them both.

I’d had a thing for Amber since the first time I saw her in the lobby of our building. We made small talk while she waited for a taxi. God, I could still remember the tight dress she wore. It was red with a long slit up her thigh that showed off her shapely leg. I knew she was a dancer before she said it. That’s when I found out she was heading out on a cruise contract and wouldn’t be back for at least five months. It was her last night in Philly for a while, and she was led into a bar with friends. We only talked for fifteen minutes, but it stuck with me.

There were nights I thought of her before I fell asleep and mornings when she came to mind before I even got out of bed. I couldn’t say if it was infatuation or just wanting what I couldn’t have. I never figured it out.

On the night she came back five months later, she knocked on my door. In her hand was a gift, a set of coasters made to look like miniature vinyl records, each one printed with a classic rock album cover. She remembered that conversation from the day she left, when we talked in the lobby about my love for The Who, Led Zeppelin, and Pink Floyd. She had found the coasters in a shop in Nassau and thought of me.

That was the moment things shifted between us, even if neither of us said it out loud. I can still picture her eyes when she handed me the gift, and I know mine were looking back at her the same way.

At that point though, neither of us could act on that chemistry. She was already signed on to a new contract that started in only three days. We went to a coffee shop while she was in Philly, but we kept it platonic. Friends from afar. It had to do.

Maybe it’s why I pursued no one else. A few women turned my head, but I never went after them. To celebrate a coworker’s retirement at a bar after work, I stopped for a quick beer that came with the phone number of the hot young bartender. As soon as I left the bar, I threw the number away. Maybe it was stupid, but I couldn’t stop thinking of Amber.

While Amber slept, I left her apartment quietly and crossed the hall to mine. Inside, I slipped into my usual morning routine. I put a pot on for oatmeal, cut up some fruit, and let the television run in the background. While it played, I scrolled through the latest news online.

The news was terrible. The virus was ripping through Asia, Australia, and Europe. Countries were locking down, trying to slow infections, and the footage looked like a world on edge. Protests broke out over travel restrictions, with crowds shouting in the streets. Counter-protests pushed back, demanding governments do more. In the US, looting and riots spread. The National Guard was on the streets in major cities, trying to hold the line.

I stood in my kitchen, oatmeal in hand, watching it all unfold. The threat was real, and it was getting closer. I had to figure out how to keep Amber and Gabriel safe when the virus and the chaos finally reached us.

As I watched television, a live broadcast cut in for a presidential press conference. Jay Carney, President Obama’s press secretary, stood at the podium, facing a wall of reporters. He was incredibly calm, but I could tell it was all acting. He said the government was doing everything it could to handle the unrest, and that people should stay in their homes and not put any stress on the police.

Then he addressed the virus. Reports of Zeta in the United States were unfounded, he said. The CDC had given no credibility to any of the claims.

Sitting there, listening to the denials, my stomach tightened. They were saying there was nothing to worry about, but that only made it feel more certain the virus was already here. For a second, I felt my chest pull tight, pressure pushing up into my eyes.

Gabriel and Amber were all I could think about. What would it take to keep them safe? My mind spun through every scenario and every precaution. I needed to get them out of the city before cases started showing up and the lockdown hit. It was coming. Going far away from the crowds was the only way to keep them the infection and the chaos.

But it wasn’t just them. My thoughts started branching out. Jack O’Connor and his daughter. Dr. Cohen, who had been caught up in the first warnings. Was he even okay?

Even Connor and Zoe came to mind. I didn’t see eye to eye with Connor, but I respected him. He had given Gabriel a good life, one I couldn’t have provided. He didn’t deserve to die, and neither did Zoe.

I couldn’t save everyone. All I could do was focus on Gabriel and Amber, and hope the rest made it through.

---

Flipping through my phone after the press conference, I saw a missed call from Connor and a string of texts. I let out a slow breath and hit play on his voicemail.

His voice burst out of the small speaker. "Sam, I can’t believe you went to Gabriel’s school. He was so upset by your bullshit, I had to leave work to pick her up. You don’t understand the effect you have on him. He’s dealing with enough, and you just add to it. I’ve told you this so many times, but you’re still not getting it.”

Then he said the part that landed like a punch. "I’ve spoken to a judge friend of mine, and I’m getting a restraining order against you. I’m sorry it’s come to this, but you’re not giving me a choice. I know you think you’re helping Gabriel, but I have to put his well-being first. You need to stop contacting him. You’ve tried to be a good brother to him, but I don’t know…something’s going on with you and you can’t be around him. I don’t want you dragging him down to whatever you’ve got going on."

The message ended, and I sat staring at my phone. I could have taken it as a loss, but the rules were about to change. A judge’s order wouldn’t mean anything in a few days, not once everything started falling apart. I couldn’t control Connor, but I could make sure Gabriel stayed alive.

My mind was set. I had to get him out, and it had to happen today.

A knock at the door pulled me out of my thoughts. I walked over and looked through the peephole. Amber stood in the hallway, wearing a robe, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. I opened the door, still a little thrown from Connor’s bullshit.

"You know you don’t have to knock," I said.

Amber shrugged, a faint smile on her lips. "I didn’t want to assume anything."

"After last night, things are different. In a good way. You don’t need permission to come by."

Her smile widened a little, like she was realizing I might mean it more than I was saying.

I headed toward the kitchen. "Want some breakfast?"

"Just an apple and a coffee, please," she said, settling onto the couch.

As I grabbed her apple and poured the coffee, Amber’s voice cut through the small space. "Everything okay? You seem...I don’t know, upset about something?"

Amber had a way of reading people, and I wasn’t an exception. Connor’s message came to mind, but I wasn’t about to lay that on her. "I’m fine."

She narrowed her eyes at me, clearly not buying it.

"Anyway," she said, "I need to run to the drugstore for my medication and a few things for my dad. I was thinking of going soon, before it gets too crowded. Need anything?"

That caught me off guard. I needed to get to Gabriel, but I wasn’t about to let Amber head out into the city alone. Protests were ramping up, and the city was more dangerous now than ever.

I handed her the apple and coffee, then sat on the couch next to her. "I’m coming with you. It’s not safe to walk anywhere alone right now."

Amber gave a short laugh. "Look at you, chivalry’s alive after all." She walked next to me, bumping my hip as she reached across the counter to grab a container of almond milk. "Normally, I’d tell you I can take care of myself, but with how crazy it is out there, I’d be stupid to say no."

I leaned closer and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "You’re stuck with me now."

She took a bite of her apple. "That sounds perfectly good to me."

---

Stepping out of the building onto Market Street, the noise hit me right away. Market was always busy, but today the traffic had a different edge. Cars inched forward like every driver was racing the clock. Exhaust from idling engines hung in the air, mixing with the smells of hot asphalt, greasy food from carts, and that faint stale scent of too many people packed close together.

The sidewalks were crowded. People walked fast, their eyes shifting from side to side, heads kept low like they didn’t want to be noticed. Everyone could feel the tension in the air, like something cataclysmic was ready to happen. At any moment, Godzilla was going a step over a building and crush everyone. Or some dormant volcano beneath Philadelphia would suddenly erupt.

Sirens wailed a few blocks away. Overhead, helicopters circled, their rotors thumping through the air. From farther down Broad Street came the steady sound of chanting. Either protesters were marching or looting had begun.

Car horns blared nonstop, layering over each other like the city’s own warped soundtrack. An ambulance forced its way through the gridlock, lights strobing, siren wailing as it cut a red light and disappeared toward whatever fresh disaster waited ahead.

Standing at the curb, it felt like the whole city was leaning over an edge. Philly’s usual rhythm was still there, but it was buried under something heavier. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for the drop.

Amber and I moved fast down Chestnut Street. When we turned onto Bank Street, the noise fell off. It was quieter there, but we weren’t ready to relax. I still had that feeling like I was being followed. I hated that feeling. I liked to be the one following someone else.

“I’m sorry I have to stop at the pharmacy,” Amber said, walking right beside me. I could smell her coconut shampoo. “I’ve got enough pills for a few days, but who knows if I’ll be able to get a refill after that. It’s for my asthma. It’s not bad, doesn’t keep me from working, but I’m better off not skipping doses.”

“It’s no problem. You don’t have to apologize.”

“Thanks. I also need to pick up my dad’s heart meds. He’s been doing a lot better, but he’s awful about remembering to refill his prescription.”

Just as she finished talking, the sharp crack of gunshots carried in from somewhere ahead. Sirens fired up almost instantly, and the glow of police lights swept through the intersection as cruisers tore past us toward the noise.

I stepped in front of Amber without thinking, my arm brushing across her to keep her close. She grabbed my bicep and rested her chin on my shoulder as we kept moving.

“I’m okay,” she said in my ear. “But I love how you’re always trying to play bodyguard.”

As we turned the corner, Liberty Bell Apothecary came into view. A line of at least fifty people stretched down the sidewalk. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it still did. Fear makes people want to grab anything that feels like it might keep them alive. And they were probably right. In a few days, antibiotics were going to be more precious than gold. Within a month I’ll be fighting someone over a roll of toilet paper.

Across the street, the CVS looked like it had already seen the worst. Police tape blocked off the doors. Every window was blown out, the sidewalk glittering with broken glass. It reminded me of tinsel on a Christmas tree.

At the back of the line, I stepped out to scan the block. A man stood at the pharmacy entrance, and the shotgun wasn’t the only thing that made him stand out. He had the kind of build that filled a doorway, broad shoulders straining a worn Eagles hoodie. His head was shaved smoothly, a jagged scar running from his temple to the edge of his jaw. He’s not somebody you go toe to toe with. If I had to take him out, I’d study him over a few days and do it when he least suspected it.

"I can’t believe this is happening," Amber said, raking her fingers through her hair. "We’re going to be stuck in this line for hours." She stepped up beside me and let out a sigh. "Sam, I can wait here by myself. You don’t have to—"

"I’m not going anywhere," I said. There was as much chance of me leaving her as there was of me growing wings and taking off.

She wasn’t wrong about the wait, though. We’d be here for hours, and neither of us had that kind of time. She had to get her dad’s meds. I needed to pack, pick up Gabriel, and get out of the city. I’d already burned too much time.

As we stood in line, Amber pulled out her phone, her thumbs working fast across the screen. Her brows drew together, and every so often she’d let out a frustrated sigh, glancing between her phone and the unmoving line.

"My dad isn’t answering. I texted him a few times this morning, but he’s not replying." She put the phone to her ear, listening. "It’s ringing, but he’s not picking up." Her voice dropped as she spoke into the phone. "Dad, it’s Amber. Call me back as soon as you get this."

The longer we stood there, the more my skin crawled. Every minute in that line was a minute I wasn’t packing or getting to Gabriel. I shifted from one foot to the other, staring at the same spot of pavement I’d been looking at ten minutes ago. The line hadn’t budged. "At this rate, we’ll still be here when the virus shows up to take our spot," I muttered.

Amber looked up from her phone. "How’s everything with your brother?" she asked, maybe just trying to keep both of us distracted from standing still.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "I want to pick him up today. But Connor, his adoptive dad, thinks I’m trouble. We haven’t gotten along for a while, and he’s made it pretty clear I’m not welcome around Gabriel. He deals with a lot of anxiety, even has panic attacks. I don’t think Connor gets how serious the virus is. They’re out in the suburbs, sealed off from what’s going on here." I waved a hand at the city around us. "To them, it probably feels like something happening on the news, not something that’s creeping toward their front door."

Just then, the line shuffled forward by two people. Amber groaned. "Sorry," she said again. I barely heard her. My eyes caught movement in a side alley. A guy in a pharmacy apron stepped out of a side door, a cigarette already in his mouth.

"Hold our spot. I’ll be right back," I told Amber. I didn’t wait for an answer. I headed toward the alley, keeping my pace easy, trying not to look like someone about to beg a pharmacy worker for a favor.

As I walked down the alley, I kept my eyes on the worker. He was young, maybe early twenties, leaning against the brick wall with an e-cig in hand. His arms were sleeved in black-and-grey tattoos: a coiled snake, a grinning skull, and a prayer candle inked onto his forearm. They gave him a laid-back look, but his eyes tracked everything, not darting around.

When he noticed me coming, his posture changed. The lazy lean against the wall straightened. His shoulders squared, his chin lifted slightly, and his free hand dropped from his pocket. He wasn’t relaxed anymore. He was ready to see if I was trouble.

"Hey," I said with a smile. "I’m Sam."

He nodded, taking a slow drag from his e-cig before answering. "Javi." He shook his head. "Sorry, man. This door’s employees only."

I paused, running through my options. There had to be a way past him, and I didn’t have time to waste. I wasn’t going to threaten him, and I wasn’t going to start anything. The guy was innocent and just doing his job. He kept watching me, probably wondering what I’d try next. I was wondering the same thing.

Then it came to me. Money still worked, at least for now. When the outbreak hit in full, who knew? Cash would tank in value fast, replaced by whatever people actually needed, like the shelves behind him. This guy could be the Bill Gates of the apocalypse if you knew we had in the pharmacy.

"Listen, Javi, I’ve got a hundred bucks that says you can let me and my girlfriend inside. We’ll grab a few things and be out."

Something clicked in my head. That was the first time I’d called Amber my girlfriend. Maybe presumptuous if you asked anyone else, but I guess that’s how I saw her.

Javi glanced at me, then toward the street at the end of the alley. He looked like he was weighing it out, figuring what it was worth to him. After a moment, he looked back at me.

"Two hundred."

Without hesitation, I pulled the cash from my wallet and handed it over. Javi slipped it into his pocket without counting. "If anyone asks how you got in, it was Peter. Guy’s a dick."

"Fair enough," I said.

I turned toward the street and gave a sharp whistle down the alley. Amber’s head snapped in my direction. She hesitated for a second, then stepped out of line and headed my way. Javi pushed the door open, and I led the way inside with Amber close behind.

Entering through the side door gave me a different view of Liberty Bell Apothecary than the front entrance ever had. Inside, the contrast hit me right away. Out on the street was chaos. In here, everything looked untouched. Shelves were lined neatly with convenience items, health products, and over-the-counter meds. The pharmacy counter stood at the far end, perfectly calm, like the city outside wasn’t falling apart.

It felt surreal, this quiet bubble while the world outside was cracking.

The guards were the only reminder of reality. Armed men paced the aisles, eyes scanning every shopper. They reminded me of stormtroopers from Star Wars. But I had a feeling these men could shoot, not unlike soldiers for the Empire. The whole place felt like a fortress under watch. I couldn’t blame whoever was running it. Without the guards, this place would look like the CVS across the street.

“I don’t know how you got us inside, but thank you.” Amber’s breath brushed the back of my neck, sending a quick shiver down my spine. "Let’s split up. I’ll head to the pharmacy counter, and you can grab whatever else we need."

I shook my head right away, the sporting goods store still fresh in my mind. "No. We stick together. Remember what happened last time we split up? I’m not taking that risk again."

She stepped around to face me, meeting my eyes. After a second, she nodded. "You’re right. Sorry."

"You don’t have to say you’re sorry to me. Ever."

Amber smiled and blushed, nodding her head at me.

We moved through the pharmacy, and Amber grabbed a basket. She started loading it with ibuprofen, allergy pills, a couple bottles of hand sanitizer, and some vitamins. At the personal care section, she tossed in toothpaste and a pack of razors.

When she reached for a box of tampons, I caught the flicker of hesitation in her movement. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she felt self-conscious. I turned slightly, pretending to study something on the opposite shelf, giving her the space.

I picked up my own essentials: bottled water, packs of nuts, granola bars, and a first aid kit. I already had some of it at home, but I wanted more. I wasn’t planning on coming back into the city anytime soon. A virus like this would rip through Philly faster than a rumor in high school, only this time, people would actually bleed for it. Money wouldn’t be worth anything for long. Water, medicine, and first aid supplies were about to become the only currency that mattered.

As I piled up supplies, Amber glanced at the stuff in my arms and gave me a look, her brow creasing.

“Are you really planning on leaving the city?” she asked. Her voice wavered, and the end of the sentence trailed off like she didn’t want to say it.

“Yeah. We’re leaving. All of us. You, me, Gabriel.”

She let out a quick breath, and a small smile tugged at her mouth. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come with you.”

“Of course I do. I can’t say what’s coming next, but I want you with me.”

Amber wrapped her arms around my waist and gave me the hardest hug of my life.

When she pulled away, we made our way to the back of the store where the pharmacy counter was. There were only a few people in line, but Amber let out a tired sigh anyway. “I’m so sick of waiting in lines.” She nudged me with her elbow, half smiling. “Thanks for not ditching me.”

She reached behind her, found my hand, and laced her fingers with mine. “I can’t believe how good this feels,” she whispered. Her grip tightened. “What would I do without you, Sam Caruso?”

An older woman in front of us turned around, her eyes landing on our joined hands. She smiled, and even though she was missing most of her teeth, it was a beautiful, kind smile. "You two make a cute couple. Married?"

I blinked, caught off guard. "No, ma’am."

Amber grinned. "We just started dating," she said, squeezing my hand.

"Oh, I see." The woman took a small step forward as the line moved, and we shuffled up behind her. "Starting something new, that’s always exciting. I wish you both the best."

Before I could even thank her, a sharp crack split the air from the front of the store. Gunshots. Screams burst out all around us. People hit the floor or ran for the shelves. The line vanished, and a heavy gate slammed down over the pharmacy counter. Security guards shouted orders, one yelling for everyone to get low. Somewhere to my left, a man called out for help. The chaos flooded in all at once, everything moving faster than I could track.

“Sam?”

I turned to Amber. A line of blood stained the front of her T-shirt. The older woman in front of us slumped sideways, eyes wide, a dark bullet hole at the back of her neck.

I yanked Amber down, pulling us behind a metal display case. I crouched low, keeping my arm over her. “Keep your head down.”

Peeking around the edge of the display, I saw a man running down the aisle. He didn’t make it far before a shot caught him in the back. He crashed to the floor, a carton of eggs bursting open and a box of cereal skidding across the tiles.

“What the fuck is going on?” Amber shouted next to me.

Sudden, loud banging shook the front of the store, each crash sharper than thunder. The next moment, the doors blew open and the crowd waiting outside burst in like a wild stampede pouring down the aisles. People shoved past each other, and screams were flying everywhere. Short pops of gunfire mixed with loud reports of shotgun blasts. Anyone in the way got knocked aside or dragged down by the surge.

Security guards rushed toward the wave, pistols out, firing warning shots that barely slowed anyone.

It was turning into a war zone. I kept my head down, scanning for any shot at an exit. Moving now meant risking a bullet or getting trampled. Amber pressed close beside me, breathing fast. Her eyes jumped from aisle to aisle, searching for a break the same way I was.

continue to chapter 6

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven Part 4 Public Test

Here's the link:

Test version (click here)

Part 4 is over 910,000 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.

Game Achievements Poll

As you know, I place achievements you can unlock when you make certain choices. How do you feel about them? Do you enjoy tracking down every achievement, or do you mostly ignore them? Are they a fun bonus, or just background noise?

Your feedback will help me decide how much I should focus on achievements in Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven and future projects.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven Part 4 Test Version (July 24, 2025)

Here's the link:

Test version (click here)

Part 4 is over 950,000 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, Getting Closer  

Welcome to my 93rd newsletter! This was another tough month. I had surgery on July 16 for the bleeding in my stomach. Everything turned out okay, but I’m still recuperating. I put in a lot of work before my surgery and am slowly getting back to writing.

With ZE:SH Part 4, it’s coming together nicely, but there’s still so much I want to add. Even though I will be doing a free update next year, it’s essential that Part 4 has everything that one would expect. It’s not just about getting bad reviews, but I want my readers to enjoy the entire experience. It’s almost 1 million words already, but some storylines have not yet been addressed.

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

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4

Part 4 is 953,000 words, with over 47,000 words added this month. As I said above, I put in a lot of work before going into the hospital. Most of my effort has centered on adding content for challenges, if your character is hurt, if other characters in the group are hurt, and additional confrontations when you have multiple romantic interests. I am also working on bug fixes and the trading system, which I will discuss below.

I’ve been in talks with my editor at Hosted Games, and we are not aiming for September. I know the goal line keeps moving, but I need to get the game working well before a release. It will be over 1 million words, and it will be worth it. My roadmap for the next few years continues to be as follows:

• Submit Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4

• Finish and submit Zombie Exodus: Stronghold

• Work on Part 4-2 as a free update next year

• Finish and submit Deadbury Academy, Part 1

• Work on Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 5

Now, let’s talk about trading.

I’m working on a system where you can trade with other groups if you have a certain level of relationship with them. In the first iteration, you can trade with Southern Ute, RMBC/Thelma’s group, the Museum, the River Dogs, and the Silverthorne Militia. Depending on the needs of each of these groups, they will value each item differently. For example, the River Dogs need food and medicine, but they also have many chemicals, gasoline, and industrial products. The RMBC/Thelma’s group is looking for vice items (for example: cigarettes, alcohol, marijuana, etc.). In this way, you might be able to buy low from one group and sell high to another. Of course, the system must work flawlessly so people don’t game the system. I’m almost finished the first version and should be able to post it next month for testing.

Also, next month, I will continue bug fixes and troubleshooting. I’m still adding new content, but I need to be careful about how many additions I make to the game. For example, I wrote a scene where Gina confronts the MC’s other romantic partner. Since there are so many potential partners, the scene exploded to 8000 words. That’s 4-5 days of writing.

Zombie Exodus: Stronghold

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

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

When I start developing Stronghold again, I will work on chapter 6. About two months ago, I reworked the outline and believe it should be about fifteen chapters. That number may change, but I think it’s a reasonable estimate. I’m aiming for the entire game to be roughly 300,000 words. I believe I can accomplish a lot in six months.

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.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4 Content Sneak Peek

For those of you interested in polyamorous relationships, here is a scene between the MC, Gina, and Monica.

---

Gina glances at Monica, then at you. She pushes a strand of blond hair behind her ear and shrugs, smiling. “As long as everyone is honest, I don’t see a problem. I’m not looking for romance, Monica. For me, it’s just physical. I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep.”

Monica crosses her ankles as she stands, the muscles in her thighs flexing under her shorts. “That’s fine by me. I’m not afraid of a little fun. Just so you know, I love kissing and cuddling. If you're not into that, Gina, I can do all that with ${firstname}.”

Gina nods, her arms falling to her sides. “We keep it simple. Nobody sneaks around. If there’s a problem, we talk about it.”

Monica leans in and bumps your shoulder with hers playfully. “Sounds like the right kind of team to me.” She gives you a lingering kiss on the lips. "I need to get going. Goodbye, you two. I can't wait to see you both later." She backs away, biting her lip, and then turns and walks away.

Gina shakes her head at you with a smile. "That girl is a firecracker. Should I be afraid?"

"We both should."

Gina laughs. "Okay, I better get going. I will talk to you later." She turns and heads towards the parking lot, only stopping briefly to give you a smile over her shoulder.

MC POV - Interactive Story - 12

Continued from scene 11

You say, “You need to stay strong right now. I’ll take care of your son. I promise.”

Her shoulders jerk and she presses a hand to her mouth, trying to smother a sob. Tears spill freely down her cheeks. When she lowers her hand, her lips tremble so badly she can hardly speak.

“There’s no other way for this to end,” you say. You keep your eyes on hers. “The infection’s already inside you.”

A shudder runs through her. She sucks in a few shaky breaths, nodding as though forcing herself to accept it. Her chest rises and falls quickly.

“I just…” Her voice breaks, and she clears her throat. “I just want to get something out of my closet. A picture. I want to hold it while you…do what you have to do.”

You give her a single nod. She turns toward the closet, moving stiffly. Her hands tremble as she reaches for the knob. The door creaks open, and she keeps glancing back at you over her shoulder, eyes wide and red.

Inside, you hear her rummaging, pushing things aside. Then a sharp, hollow scrape echoes inside the closet, metal dragging across wood. Her shoulders tense, her breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.

Continue to scene 13

Writing Updates

It’s been another rough few weeks. You may remember that I was in the hospital about a month ago. It turns out that I need to have surgery next week. I will probably be out of commission for a few days and recovering at home.

The good news is that I have made a lot of progress in writing ZESH Part 4. I have been focusing on writing and editing so much that I have already written over 39,000 new words this month. I don’t know if I will be able to write more than that due to my recovery, but I’m going to try.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven Part 4 Progress

I’m still writing and editing this month. If it weren’t for my health, I would send my files to my publisher this month. Unfortunately, it will have to be next month or maybe even September. Right now, the game is around 950,000 words. I would like to hit that 1 million mark before I hand it in. There are still lots of things I want to add before release that people want to see. I risk bad reviews if people don’t see continuations of major storylines.

I think late August or early September is a reasonable goal to hand in the files.

I’m also working on fixing the old parts, since I know some errors need to be repaired. For example, the crafting bug needs to be squashed. I’m waiting for Hosted Games to get back to me so that I can schedule the patch.

So far this month, I have been working on romantic content, an amazing get-together with Elsie (whom you meet in chapter 13 at the Southern Ute community), and more content for Challenges. I’ve also been editing and cleaning up some of the writing from earlier chapters.

I hope to have the final public version of the game next month. I will leave that version for feedback for a few weeks, and then the game will go away until it’s published.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4 Content Sneak Peek

I am currently going through Part 4 and adding content for challenges. I made this for kleptomaniac and thought it was a really engaging scenario. This happens when you are visiting the Southern Ute when going to save Kevin in chapter 13. Jimmy is the name of an elder of the tribe.

---

Your eyes wander the room and land on a small display tucked on a wooden shelf near the fireplace. It’s a hand-carved kachina doll, painted with bright bands of turquoise and deep red. The details stand out: the tiny feathers tied to its arms and the delicate beadwork forming a sash across its middle. It’s clearly more than decoration. It’s set slightly apart, resting on a woven mat. You notice Jimmy’s gaze land on it now and then.

Without thinking, you slide a hand out, curling your fingers around the carved wood. It’s lighter than you expected, beads rough against your palm. In one smooth motion, it slips into your backpack. Your heart pounds in your throat as the doors slam shut and quiet settles over the hall.

---

Later…

A murmuring of whispers spreads through the Southern Ute, and you soon understand why. You catch a few glances sweeping the shelf where the kachina doll once sat. Two older women look there, then at each other, whispers between them. One man drags his eyes slowly across the floorboards as if searching for something. The itch under your skin returns, that same greedy pulse that made your hand close around the doll in the first place.

Jimmy steps closer, lowering his voice so only you can hear him.

“I know you took the kachina doll. It’s been with my family for generations. It holds meaning for us beyond what most would see.” He pauses, meeting your eyes. “If you give it back now, there’ll be no judgment from me. No need for explanations. I’d simply like it returned where it belongs.”

The pull inside you is sharp, an itch that makes your hand want to curl around the hidden shape all over again.

You…

MC POV - Interactive Story - 11

Continued from scene 10

You lower your voice. “Ma’am, why don’t we step into the bedroom? It’ll be easier for me to take a closer look at that bite.”

She doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes glance at the bathroom door, then back to you. Her chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths. After a moment, she nods, her chin trembling.

“Just so you can look? Nothing else?”

“That’s all,” you say. You hold out a hand, careful to keep the barrel of your rifle pointed low. “Come on. Right in here.”

She moves past you, clutching her wrist against her chest. Blood has soaked through the paper towels completely now, leaving a dark trail down her forearm. You follow her into the bedroom.

The bedroom is small and tidy, almost painfully normal. A floral comforter covers the neatly made bed, though the pillows are dented and uneven, like someone sat there for hours. A pair of slippers sits by the nightstand, toes pointed together. Family photos crowd the top of a low dresser, smiling faces frozen behind dusty glass. The window is cracked open an inch, letting in a faint breeze that stirs the pale curtains.

You close the door gently behind you. The soft click of the latch makes her flinch. Her eyes dart to the doorknob, then to your hands.

Tears spill over, streaking down her face. Her lips press together, shaking. “Please don’t kill me,” she whispers. Her voice cracks on the last word. “I know what’s happening to people. I’ve seen it on the news. But it’s not happening to me. I can still feel everything. Please, just let me take my son and go.”

Her knees buckle slightly, and she catches herself on the edge of the dresser. Then she turns abruptly, stumbles the last step to a small plastic trash can, and bends over it. Her whole body convulses as she vomits, the sound raw and wet. The stench of bile mixes with the rot of her infected wound, filling the tight space of the bedroom.

Continue to scene 12

Jude from Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven

I had Jude redesigned. This is how he looks now, and it would be his appearance when you first meet him at the grocery store in Part 2.

Appearance (for visually impaired followers): Jude is a man with dark hair and olive skin and wears a makeshift ghillie suit made of cardboard, cans, plastic bags, and assorted trash.

Outbreak Scenario 24

You’ve been alone for weeks, moving cautiously through abandoned towns. Supplies are running low. Just when you start to feel hunger and loneliness creeping in, you come across a small group camped in an old church.

Their leader, a tall man named Ross, offers you food and the opportunity to join them. As the days pass, you travel with them, sharing stories and hunting small game. They’re organized, resourceful, even friendly.

But on the second night, everything changes. You wake to the sound of gunshots and terrified shouting. Watching from the trees, you see Ross’s people ambush a small caravan on the road, taking food, weapons, and whatever else they can carry. They spare the travelers' lives but strip them of everything.

Later, Ross shrugs it off. “Better us than someone worse,” he says. “We don’t kill unless we have to. But we take what keeps us alive.”

What do you do?

Schedule for July, 2025

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

7/3 -- Outbreak scenario poll (Free tier)

7/4 -- Zombie Exodus: Side Stories (MC POV) scene 11. ($3+ tiers)

7/6 -- Content Sneak Peek ($3+ tiers)

7/9 -- Game updates (Free tier)

7/12 -- Content Sneak Peek ($1+ tiers)

7/16 -- Zombie Exodus: Side Stories (MC POV) scene 12. ($3+ tiers)

7/18 -- Character or Content Poll ($10+ tiers)

7/20 -- Newsletter. ($1+ tiers)

7/22 -- Content Sneak Peek ($3+ tiers)

7/25 --  Monthly Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4 Alpha Test ($5+ tiers)

7/27 -- Content poll (free tier)

7/29 -- New Original Story. ($10+ tiers)

For those of you at the Creator level for 6 months or more, please refer to this post about your tier reward.

Discord: Remember to join my Discord and get your special patron role if you're a member.

ZE Outbreak Novel, Chapter 4

continued from chapter 3

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

The alarm blared at 6 AM, jolting me awake. I was glad for the habits of life, because there was no time to waste. I rolled out of bed, grabbed a banana from the kitchen, and ate it in a few quick. It was time to leave.

I slipped my Glock 17, already loaded, into the front of my pants, the holster clipped to my belt. I checked my reflection in the mirror. The bulge of the gun was noticeable under my T-shirt, but it was too hot outside for a jacket. "Guess this will have to do," I muttered to myself.

I made my way down to the garage, where my Honda Accord waited. I didn’t like flashy cars, and it had just enough room to fit a body if I had to dispose of one out in the woods.

Driving out of the Graduate Hospital area, the city at 6:30 AM felt eerily quiet. As I drove, the aftermath of the riots and protests was painfully evident. Trash littered the streets, and in one spot, the charred remains of a car lay burnt out and abandoned, like the shell of an insect. Storefront windows were smashed, and graffiti was scrawled across walls and shutters. The city was coming apart.

The drive to Bryn Mawr felt surreal, like drifting through someone else's nightmare. Trash-cluttered sidewalks and scattered debris turned Philadelphia into a ghost town. Everything was too quiet, as if the whole city had decided to sleep in, hiding from whatever waited outside.

My Accord hummed beneath me as I hit I-76 West. I pressed down harder, watching the speedometer climb. There were no cops and no traffic, just an empty road stretching ahead, offering up speed like a temptation. Philly’s skyline shrank in the rearview, blurring into distant shapes behind smudged glass.

My thoughts hammered inside my skull. Get there fast. Don't stop. Don't slow down. The emptiness of the highway was unsettling. All around me, the world held its breath, and so did I.

Bryn Mawr stretched out around me like some glossy magazine spread with perfect lawns, huge houses, and driveways filled with cars worth more than I'd make in years. Everything about this place screamed money and privilege and safety. I felt painfully out of place in my beat-up Honda, parked awkwardly among all the polished luxury.

Still, part of me was relieved Gabriel lived here now. He had things I only dreamed about growing up. A good school, safe streets, and the freedom of not worrying about the next bad thing coming down the road. He had a real family. He'd never have to scrape by like I did, and I was grateful for that. I just hated his father.

I parked outside The Baldwin School and the contrast hit me hard. Everything here looked untouched by the chaos swallowing up the city. Perfectly trimmed grass, old stone buildings, quiet, orderly. It was just after seven, and students were already gathering out front. I searched for Gabriel, eyes darting through groups of identical uniforms. She shouldn't even be here today, not with everything going sideways.

Finding Gabriel was nearly impossible. Everyone wore the same clothes, a blur of uniforms blending together. Then I caught sight of him stepping out of Zoe's Lexus. The car was sleek, polished, and expensive. I glanced at my Honda parked a few spaces down and shook my head.

Gabriel closed the car door and headed towards the school entrance. Zoe pulled away, and I took a deep breath and stepped out of my shitty car. He stopped to talk to a trio of students, giving me a chance to cross the street.

"Gabriel," I called out, keeping my voice steady but loud enough to cut through the morning chatter.

He spun around, eyes widening as he caught sight of me. "Sam? What are you doing here?"

I closed the distance between us. "Gabriel, we need to talk. This isn't the place for you right now, not with everything going on in the city."

Gabriel frowned, eyebrows knitting together. "Sam, what are you even talking about? I've got class."

"Classes can wait, Gabriel. The city's going to shit. Riots and protests are everywhere. We need to go now. And then there's the virus."

"I can't just ditch school. Mom and Dad would—"

"They shouldn't have let you out of the house this morning. You're coming with me. Right now."

I was so locked onto Gabriel, I didn't notice his friend slipping away, edging nervously toward a woman in a sharp suit standing near the school’s stone steps.

"Sir!" the woman shouted, moving quickly toward us.

"Gabriel," I said, stepping back, my voice lowered. "We need to leave."

Gabriel didn't move. Couldn't really blame him. I probably looked like some wild-eyed lunatic crashing his perfectly normal morning. Behind him, the woman was closing in fast, already barking into a walkie-talkie. Time to go.

I turned sharply, my boots scraping pavement as I jogged back to the Honda. A final glance showed Gabriel grabbing the woman's arm, trying to hold her back. But he wasn't following. I slammed the car door and hit the gas, my heart banging in my chest.

Another great decision by Sam Caruso, king of impulsive moves.

---

As I drove back home, the last twenty-four hours slammed through my head on repeat. Kayla’s angry face in the gym, the fight downstairs in my lobby, and now scaring Gabriel half to death. Each screw-up pounded against my skull like a hangover that wouldn’t quit. My fingers tightened around the steering wheel until my knuckles went white. I blew past two exits and nearly rear-ended a cop car. Great job, Sam.

I was supposed to be the guy who handled things, who kept his shit together and made the right calls. This impulsive garbage wasn’t me. In the army, they beat calm and strategy into us. Cool heads win fights. But now, I was acting like some out-of-control hothead, burning bridges faster than I could build them.

I didn’t know what to do. I knew I needed to get Gabriel out of the city, but I was doing a bad job of getting it done. If I could go back in time, I would have gone to Connor and had a rational conversation while I had a degree of credibility. He didn’t trust me any longer, and I had freaked out Gabriel one too many times. I couldn’t exactly kidnap him, but it had crossed my mind. It seemed like I had to wait until the virus hit critical mass here in the city before Connor or Gabriel would believe me. By then it was likely too late.

My neighborhood rolled back into view, gritty and familiar, bringing with it a wave of clarity. This outbreak, this whole messed-up situation, was bigger than my personal bullshit or the demons rattling around inside my head. Time to get smart. Gabriel, Amber, hell, everyone around me, deserved better than this half-assed chaos I'd been serving up.

Survival wasn't going to come down to brute force or whoever could throw the hardest punch. It'd be about who could think straight, keep their cool, and actually make a plan. As I parked and walked up to my apartment, the message sank in deep: If I was going to get through whatever madness was coming, it had to be with brains, not just guts.

Back in my apartment, I tossed my keys on the counter and flipped on the news. The screen lit up with images of chaos. New York was burning, Times Square choked with protesters and smoke billowing between buildings. Los Angeles looked like a war zone, police lines buckling under the weight of rioters. Chicago, Atlanta, everywhere was the same nightmare playing out on repeat.

The newscaster spoke calmly, but even he couldn't hide the disbelief creeping into his voice.

"In New York, Times Square is completely overrun. Fires continue to burn out of control across multiple city blocks. Los Angeles police are overwhelmed as rioters openly clash in the streets. Similar unrest is erupting right now in Chicago, Atlanta, and nearly every major city nationwide."

He then shifted to international news. "Turning to global events, Europe, Africa, and South America are witnessing similar unrest. Major cities are in turmoil as governments struggle to maintain order in the growing public dissatisfaction and fear."

The screen flashed scenes from London, Paris, Johannesburg, and São Paulo, each city echoing the same madness I'd just driven through in Philly.

The newscaster continued, his voice grim. "But in Asia and Australia, the situation is taking a darker turn. Infection rates are spiking across China, Korea, and Japan. Strict lockdowns are in effect, and reports of widespread outbreaks are trickling out, despite official attempts to control the narrative."

Footage appeared next, grainy and chaotic. People ran through packed Asian streets, panic clear even through the blurred camera lens. Barricades rose in a desperate rush to hold back the chaos.

"In Australia, things are spiraling fast. The Prime Minister has ordered a nationwide lockdown and mobilized the military to enforce quarantines. All international travel to and from Asia and Australia has been suspended indefinitely."

I slumped onto the couch, the remote slipping from my hand. Everything was unraveling way too fast. And there I was, neck-deep in my own mess. It hit me like a punch. If I was going to protect Gabriel, to have any shot at making it through this, I had to get smart. The world wasn't playing around anymore. Survival meant thinking ahead and outrunning the virus.

---

For six straight hours, I couldn't tear myself away from the TV, jumping between live feeds on YouTube and Twitch. Things in India and western Asia had gone completely off the rails. One livestream out of New Delhi burned itself permanently into my brain before YouTube pulled the plug. A woman, obviously infected, sprinted through the packed street with movements jerky and animal-like. Her skin was a sickening pale green, eyes wild, seeing nothing and everything at once. But her mouth haunted me the most, twisted into a snarl that showed off teeth sharper than they should be, ready to bite and tear. The video cut off suddenly as police opened fire, leaving me staring blankly at the screen with an empty, gnawing feeling deep in my gut.

Scrolling through Reddit, sifting through a nonstop avalanche of rumors, theories, and outright lies, I landed on a link to a private server. The post promised uncensored footage of an attack in New Zealand. Curiosity got the better of me. I clicked.

The video was shaky and raw, clearly filmed by someone trying hard not to panic. It showed a quiet suburban street in Wellington, suddenly turned into a nightmare. A group of infected ran after terrified locals, screams echoing off neat rows of houses. One infected man stood out. He was a hulking figure in shredded clothes, his face warped into something monstrous. He charged straight through a flimsy barricade the residents had thrown together. People scattered, knocked aside like bowling pins as his massive body crashed into them. The camera jerked wildly as whoever was filming stumbled back and turned to run. The footage cut to black.

I sat frozen, staring at the blank screen. This virus wasn't creeping along anymore. It was moving fast.

I kept flipping through channels on TV, different websites, and forms. There were too many stories to follow and not too much information to sift through. There were fake reports and fake photos. There was a lot of speculation on what caused the Zeta virus. Religious zealots were preaching apocalypse on all-day streams, live from their churches and temples. I heard one Baptist minister mention Revelations coming true.

I stumbled upon mentions of 'end of the world' parties. Even Becky from work, who I barely tolerated, sent an invite for a party tomorrow night. "We'll watch the news, have outbreak-themed cocktails and snacks, even do face painting to look like the infected!" her message read. I couldn't fathom the mindset, making a mockery of a situation that was spiraling into a fucking pandemic.

My phone buzzed, snapping me out of my daze. I glanced down to see a pile of missed calls and texts staring back at me. Work had blown up my phone, and I forgot to call out. Connor had left a string of voicemails too, each one sounding more stressed than the last. But the newest message grabbed my attention immediately. Amber.

"Just got back to the apartment. Can you help me with my luggage in the lobby?"

Her text had just landed a few minutes earlier. I quickly thumbed out a reply, "On my way," then headed downstairs without another thought.

---

By the time I lugged Amber's final suitcase into her apartment, sweat was running down my back. The stack of luggage was almost funny, nearly ten pieces piled up around us. She kept shooting me guilty looks, even though she was carrying just as much as I was. Amber was a dancer, and she had serious muscle. Her arms and legs were strong, easily managing the overstuffed bags she hauled two at a time.

"I'm really sorry, Sam," she said, sitting down the bags and shaking out her arms. "Cruise ship life means packing months of stuff at once."

"It's fine," I said, dropping an especially heavy suitcase on the floor.

Ten suitcases? Back in the army, we crammed everything we owned into one bag. Different world, I guess.

Amber leaned against the kitchen counter, pushing a strand of soft brown hair out of her eyes. "I don't get why everyone's losing their minds about this virus," she said after a moment. "My friends in Asia and Australia say they're locked in their houses. But people here act like it's just some big conspiracy."

I hesitated. The images I'd seen were still fresh in my mind. The chaos on the streets, the endless flood of news, and Dr. Cohen's research were spinning through my head. "Everything I've seen says it's real. This isn't just some media stunt. It's serious."

“Who is Dr. Cohen?” A teapot whistled, and she stepped over to the range and poured two cups of hot water with teabags in them.

“Sorry, I work for him at Jefferson. He’s an epidemiologist and has been studying this virus. He told me to be worried. I know you just got back to Philly, but you should see all the protests and looting going on. People are getting prepared for what comes next, and it’s not going to be pretty.”

Amber sighed, worry creeping into her deep green eyes. "That's just it, Sam. I’m honestly confused. Everyone's saying something different. Of course, it all sounds awful, but couldn't this just blow over?"

I got it. I'd spent days sorting through mountains of news, each bit contradicting the last. "Yeah, it’s possible," I said. The last thing I needed was Amber panicking. I'd already scared Gabriel enough for both of them. "A little hope never hurts."

She smiled and handed me a cup of tea. I wasn't exactly a tea guy, but Amber practically lived off the stuff. I took a sip. It tasted like hot water poured over twigs, but I smiled anyway.

Amber got to work unpacking, dragging the lighter suitcases across the room. Her place wasn't much bigger than a studio, but she'd made use of every inch. Large windows filled the room with soft sunlight, highlighting the neatly arranged furniture. The living space doubled as her bedroom, dominated by a modern sofa facing a modest entertainment center and a queen-sized bed pushed up against the far wall. The kitchenette sat tucked away in the corner, countertops crowded with colorful souvenirs from her endless travels. Photos of exotic locations and vibrant artwork covered the walls, surrounding a huge map dotted with pins marking every port she'd visited.

As she was moving another suitcase towards the designated pile, the latch gave way, and the case burst open, spilling its contents onto the floor. Among the scattered items were a few delicate, lacy pieces of underwear. Amber's cheeks flushed as she hastily tried to gather them up. I immediately turned my gaze towards the window, pretending to be deeply interested in the view outside. I wasn’t really interested in that view but an entirely different one.

Amber leaned against the counter, watching me with a crooked smile. "So, what are your plans for today?"

"I need to run by the sporting goods store." I nudged one of her bigger suitcases aside so I wouldn’t trip over it. "I gotta pick up some camping gear."

She let out a light laugh. "What, planning a little weekend getaway?" Her smile slipped when she caught the look on my face.

I kept moving her bags.

"You're not actually thinking about going camping right now, are you?"

"It's not for camping," I finally said. "With everything going on, it seems smart to be ready to leave the city if it comes to that."

Amber’s eyes searched mine, trying to make sense of what I’d just dropped on her.

"You're serious, aren't you? You’re actually thinking about leaving because of this outbreak?"

"Yeah, I am." I lifted another suitcase and set it by the couch. "It’s just a precaution. I’d rather have a plan than stand around waiting to get blindsided."

She nodded, slow, barely moving, then rubbed her arm like she was cold. Her eyes stayed on the floor a little too long before she looked up again.

"Can I...could I come with you to the store? I just...I don't want to be alone right now."

The question landed harder than I expected. My first instinct was to say no. The streets were a mess, people were jumpy, and I didn’t want Amber anywhere near it. Plus, I’d move faster on my own.

I opened my mouth, ready to shut it down, but then I caught the way she twisted her fingers together, the tension in her shoulders. "Yeah. Of course you can come," I said. I even found a way to smile.

---

Amber and I stepped out of the building into hard afternoon sunlight. I raised a hand to block it, blinking until my eyes adjusted after the dim lobby.

"The bus stop’s a couple blocks down," I said. I looked over at Amber. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders, catching the light in soft waves. She managed a small smile, but her eyes stayed fixed on the ground.

We started down the sidewalk, passing the usual neighborhood sights. There was a corner pharmacy with dusty windows, the laundromat’s peeling yellow awning, and kids playing basketball in the alley with a cracked backboard. It all looked so normal it almost pissed me off. Those kids had no idea what might be coming. I hoped, more than I wanted to admit, that I was dead wrong. In a month, I’d feel like a complete idiot for thinking a virus could tear the world apart.

We rounded the corner, and I slowed up when the bus stop came into view. The sidewalk was packed with fifty people crammed together.

"Maybe we should call a cab instead," Amber said, her voice low.

I gave a quick nod, though I didn’t like our chances there either. She glanced at me.

"You’re really quiet today. Everything okay? Beyond the obvious."

I let out a breath, not sure how to answer. "I’m fine. Just thinking. And yeah…worried. But I’m okay."

We made our way toward the bus stop, weaving through clusters of people pressed too close together. The air felt tight, like everyone was holding something back. Faces shifted quickly from person to person, eyes darting, shoulders tense. A few sharp voices cut through as two men argued over who stood where, and some woman were cursing about being shoved.

Amber slipped her hand into mine.

Closer to the shelter, everything snapped. A shout ripped through the low chatter. Two guys swung at each other with wild fists. They slammed into the bus shelter, sending an old woman sprawling off the bench. She hit the pavement hard and grabbed her hip with a sharp cry.

That was all it took. The crowd broke apart. There was more shouting, and bodies were bumping and twisting. A man a few steps away let out a choked yell, and I caught the quick flash of a knife pulled from his belt. Fights erupted all over the sidewalk, each one crashing into the next until the whole crowd turned into a tangle of fists and panic.

I’m not going to lie. I wanted to get involved. Watching those two guys fighting and hit that woman made me want to go over and shoot them both in the head. They deserved it. If I had more time on the clock, I’d plot both their murders. That wasn’t happening anytime soon. I had bigger flies to burn.

The crowd turned into a sea of bodies, all pushing and shoving. Some people tried to get a better look, while others tried to back away. I heard fists striking flesh and more screams breaking out across the sidewalk. Somewhere close by, glass shattered. Amber’s hand clamped around mine, her fingers cold and rigid.

I scanned the street, searching for any way out of this chaos. My eyes darted from storefront to alley, looking for space to move. I wanted no part of it. All I could think about was getting Amber and myself out of there before someone’s fear turned into something worse.

"This way, now!"

I pulled her down a side street to get clear of the crowd. We moved fast without looking back. The noise of the fight slipped behind us until it was just another echo in the city.

The street we found was narrow and cramped, lined with old row houses that carried years of grime and chipped paint. As we slowed down, I caught Amber brushing tears off her cheeks. Her breaths came quick and uneven, her shoulders rising and falling like she couldn’t catch a full one.

"That was scary," she said, her voice quivering.

Concern washed over me. "Do you want to go back to your apartment?"

She shook her head. "I'll be all right.”

Amber was tough, even with how rattled she looked. It hurt to see her like that, eyes red and shoulders tight, but there was still something solid in the way she stood. Most people would have fallen apart after what happened at the bus stop. Not her. She kept her chin up and met my eyes without flinching.

It still twisted something in my chest to watch her struggle. She was my friend. I wanted to give her something, even if it was just a hug. I reached out, but she stepped back a little, lifting her hands like she needed space.

"I really would love a hug right now," she said, hands on her hips as she paced near me. "I'm afraid it'll make me break down completely. Let's just get to the camping store and get you what you need."

Her stepping back caught me off guard. It stung for a second, but more than anything, I found myself respecting it. Amber was holding herself together. If I was being honest, there was something about her in that moment that pulled at me.

"Alright," I said. "Let’s keep moving."

My head spun with options as we walked. Public transit was out. There were too many people and too many nerves ready to snap. With everyone on edge, even finding a taxi felt like a long shot. The subway wasn’t even a question. If the bus stop turned into a riot, the El would be a war zone. I didn’t have a perfect plan, but turning back wasn’t one of the choices. I needed that gear if I was going to get Gabriel out when things got worse.

Two more blocks passed under our feet before I finally caught a break. A taxi dropped off a passenger right in front of an apartment building. I threw up a hand, hoping the driver wouldn’t pull away. He spotted us and gave a small nod. My shoulders dropped a notch, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Amber and I picked up the pace, hurrying to the curb before the driver could change his mind.

"Independence Outfitters on Columbus Avenue, please," I said as we climbed into the backseat. "And quick, if you can."

"You got it, buddy.” The driver pulled away from the curb, the vinyl seats squeaking beneath us.

I realized I was still tightly gripping Amber's hand. I let go awkwardly, folding my hands in my lap. We rode in silence for a minute before she spoke.

"Do you really think things are going to get even more out of control? The virus is going to hit the United States?" she asked. She whispered, I guess, so the driver couldn’t hear.

"Yeah, I do," I said. "My boss has been looking at data from the CDC. This thing is spreading fast. It’s what he does. He’s an epidemiologist. The last email he sent said he was heading off to work with the government and wouldn’t be in touch anymore."

Amber didn’t answer right away. She stared out the window as we drove past a school. A group of kids stood by the gate, laughing and shoving each other. I turned my eyes away. I didn’t want to think about what might happen to them once the virus showed up here.

"I don’t know," she said. "It still feels like the news is making it sound worse than it is. It’s hard to believe everything could fall apart that fast."

I chose my next words carefully, not wanting to scare her any more than necessary. "I understand. But it's better to prepare now, just in case. We'll get you set up with some supplies so you can hunker down."

“Wait, what are you doing? Are you staying…” She stopped herself in a moment of realization that flashed across her face. “The camping gear. You’re leaving the city?”

“I’m considering it. You know my brother, Gabriel? I want to take care of him. If things get bad in the city, I’m considering leaving with him.”

She nodded and looked ahead again. Her fingers picked at a loose thread on her jeans, twisting it around and around.

The taxi crawled through the clogged streets of Center City. I stared out the window, taking in a city that felt like it was about to snap. Philly’s usual energy was still there, but it seemed dulled, buried under something heavier. Fresh graffiti covered the buildings. One wall screamed "THIS SYSTEM FAILED US." Another was tagged with "STAY HOME OR DIE." Someone had sprayed a crude skull across the front of a closed deli, the eyes dripping red paint like blood. A lot of shop windows were already boarded up, as owners tried to stay one step ahead of looters.

Cops were everywhere. Patrol cars sat at busy intersections, officers standing by with their eyes on the crowds. It should have made things feel safer, but it didn’t. The city looked like it was holding itself together by a thread.

Virus or not, maybe getting out of Philly was the right move anyway.

As we got closer to the Delaware River, the traffic finally started to thin out. Columbus Avenue, usually crowded with people out for lunch or tourists snapping photos, looked almost empty. A few people moved along the sidewalks, heads down, walking fast like they had someplace important to be.

We didn’t say much after that. The silence stretched until the taxi pulled up in front of Independence Outfitters about ten minutes later. I handed the driver some bills, not bothering to count them, and stepped out onto the sidewalk with Amber right behind me.

The store loomed ahead, its windows plastered with bright posters showing tents, backpacks, and camp stoves. A handwritten sign taped to the glass shouted "RIFLE SALE" in thick black marker. It looked like it was slapped up in a hurry.

"Alright, let’s make this quick," I said. I pushed through the doors, eyes scanning everywhere. Amber stayed right behind me as we stepped into the huge, echoing space.

I’d hoped the place would still be stocked, maybe even quiet. It wasn’t. The store was packed with people. Shelves were already half-empty, and employees rushed back and forth, trying to keep up with questions they probably didn’t have answers for.

I grabbed a cart and started weaving through the aisles, scanning shelves, my mind locked on my list. I tossed in a small propane stove, a compact cook set, a water filter, and two sleeping bags. Boxes of energy bars and cans of soup went in next, followed by first aid kits and flashlights. My cart filled up fast.

I tried to pick things that were light and we could carry without too much trouble. But I also grabbed the small comforts I knew Gabriel would need. He’d never spent a night outside a city in his life.

When we cleared the camping section, I found myself in an aisle full of baseball gear. Bats, gloves, helmets were all useless to me.

"Amber, is there anything that you need—"

Amber wasn't beside me anymore. I glanced around, scanning the area and even backtracking to the last aisle. Where the hell did she go? For someone who was looking everywhere, I somehow lost one of the most important parts of this trip.

For the next few minutes, I moved through the aisles, looking for her. People shoved past me, bumped into my cart, and cut me off without so much as a look. How the hell had I lost her so fast? She was right there when we walked in, and then it was like she vanished.

I didn’t need this. I’d brought her along because she was scared back at the apartment, and now I was wasting time chasing her down. I could be grabbing more supplies, figuring out what else we’d need. Every second here was time I wasn’t spending getting ready.

I moved toward the right side of the store and heard her above the noise a few aisles over. Her voice was shaking and uneven. There was no time to drag the cart through the crowd, so I left it and pushed ahead, weaving around people and cutting through tight gaps.

When I turned the corner, I saw her. Amber stood backed against a shelf, eyes wide. A big man with a thick beard leaned over her, face red and twisted as he shouted. He must have had 150 pounds on her.

"You tried to take this right out of my hand, you little—"

"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to," Amber said. Her voice shook. Behind her, shoppers with carts were packed side by side, blocking any way out.

I didn’t think. I stepped in and wedged myself between them. "Alright, let’s calm down."

The man stepped closer. His sour, hot breath hit me. "Stay out of this. This bitch tried to steal from me."

Did he really just call her that?

He towered over me and stood at least a few inches taller. His flannel shirt was rolled to the elbows, and tattoos of skulls and crossbones covered the visible parts of his arms. I wanted no part of this guy, especially in such close quarters. If he got his hands on me, or pulled a weapon, all the training in the world may not matter.

Still, I felt that strange calm that sometimes came over me. I wanted to hurt this man. He was bullying Amber, and I could tell by the thin smile that he was enjoying it. Amber was trying to apologize when I got there, and this guy was eating it up like pie on the Fourth of July.

"It was a misunderstanding. But you need to lower your voice and back off," I said.

"Who the fuck you think you are?" he shouted. He took a step towards me, and his spittle hit my face.

"It's no big deal," I said, taking a step back. In doing so, I accidentally bumped into Amber, feeling her slight tremble as she was pressed closely against my back. "Are we seriously arguing over a travel mug?"

He jabbed a thick finger into my chest. "Mind your own shit, tough guy. This bench needs to learn manners."

My jaw locked up. Everything in me was wound tight, ready to pop. But I couldn’t let it. I just needed to get Amber out and pay for the stuff in my cart. Maybe I could figure out this guy's truck in the parking lot (I was sure a guy like this had a pickup, probably with truck nuts and a gun rack).

"Come on," I said to Amber, my hand reaching back for hers. "We’re leaving."

The man lunged and grabbed a fistful of my shirt. I clamped both hands around his wrist and twisted hard. Something popped under my grip. His thumb bent the wrong way, and he let out a sharp yell. He stumbled forward, swinging wild with his other hand. I stepped in close to kill the punch and drove my heel into his knee. The joint buckled sideways, and he went down hard, howling as he hit the floor. His head was resting against the side of a shelf at a strange angle. All I needed to do was stomp his neck. I couldn’t do it with Amber here.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her with me, pushing through the crush of people until we got back to where I left the cart. Her hand shook in mine, but she didn’t slow down.

When we rounded the corner, I stopped dead. Someone was digging through the cart, pulling out the last flashlight. Everything else was gone.

I stood there for a second, trying to process it, scanning the store. There were even more people now, moving like a swarm. The shelves looked stripped bare.

"Fuck it," I muttered. I tightened my grip on Amber’s hand and headed straight for the exit.

The outside light cut through the dim store. We pushed through the doors and stepped into the parking lot. The doors swung shut behind us, cutting off the noise inside. I kept scanning the lot as we moved, looking for anyone who might be hanging around with bad intentions.

"You okay?" I asked.

Amber nodded, though her eyes were still wide. Tears pooled at the corners, but she held them back.

"Yeah. Thanks to you. That guy was nuts," she said, her voice shaky.

"Let’s get home."

"But the stuff you needed—"

"Forget it," I said. I managed a smile, hoping it would steady her. Inside, I was pissed. This was on me. I should have kept her close. Letting her wander off was stupid, and now I’d paid for it. Even if I dropped her off and came back, the store would be stripped clean. I lost focus, and it cost me.

---

Rolling back up to Amber’s apartment, I realized how little we’d said since leaving Independence Outfitters. The ride back was quiet. It felt like we had all the shit from today piled up between us. Amber unlocked her door and stepped inside.

I hovered at the threshold, one foot already turning away. "Night, Amber. Stay safe."

Her hand caught my wrist. "Sam, wait. Come inside for a minute, okay?" Her eyes stayed on mine a little too long, like she was trying to figure out if I’d bolt.

I hesitated. Part of me knew I should be out there figuring out my next move, making sure I was ready for whatever came next with Gabriel. But another part didn’t want to leave things off like this. I stepped inside.

Amber pointed to the couch, and we both sat.

She drew in a slow breath. "I need to say sorry. Back at the store, I wandered off to look for a couple things. I didn’t think it would turn into all that. I messed up your chance to get what you needed. I’m not usually this careless. It’s just...this virus, all the crazy shit going on, it’s got me rattled. I’m really sorry."

I brushed off her apology with a shake of my head. "It's fine, Amber. It's not on you. I'll sort it out."

But she wasn't having any of it. "Sam, cut the crap. Just say it like it is."

"What do you expect me to say?"

"I want you to get mad at me, to blame me!" she said and gave me a light shove. "Tell me I messed everything up, that I'm useless, and you're better off without me. Say—"

She stopped talking, and it got real quiet. Amber’s shoulders sank a little. She looked more thrown off than I’d ever seen her.

"Keep going," I said, my voice softer now.

“Say that I should leave you alone."

Her words nearly broke me. Sure, Amber was a curveball in my plans, a distraction, but abandoning her? That was off the table.

"That's one thing I'm never going to say."

Her smile lit up the room. "You had me worried," she said, her shove this time more playful. "I wouldn't have blamed you, you know, if you never wanted to see me again."

I was at a loss for words. The truth was, I liked Amber more than I probably should. She was a distraction, yeah, but in the best possible way.

"I want to help, Sam. I really am sorry for how things turned out," she said again.

Then she stepped in and wrapped her arms around me. I didn’t think twice about hugging her back. "Everything’s going to be okay," I said, though it sounded like I was trying to convince myself just as much as her.

Amber pulled back a little, her eyes on mine. Before I could figure out what she was about to do, she leaned in and kissed me. For a second, I just stood there, surprised, then I kissed her back. My chest tightened in that good way, heat rolling through me.

I’d wanted this for years, ever since we first met. Being neighbors all that time, stealing quick looks in the hall or talking on the steps, had been its own kind of slow torture.

Her mouth moved against mine, soft and hungry. We pulled each other close like we couldn’t get close enough. I loved the way she tasted, the way her body pressed into me, warm and real. I couldn’t get enough of her.

I kissed along her neck, and Amber held on tighter. "I want you, Sam," she said, her voice low and rough.

I pulled back for a second, caught off guard. We’d been friends for a year, but barely saw each other in person. Still, something about her felt close. Maybe it was all those phone calls and late-night texts when she was halfway across the world. She made me feel like I mattered, and I needed that more than I ever let on. Living alone, working long hours, and barely seeing Gabriel made me feel cut off from everyone. Every time I saw a message from Amber or picked up her call, it was like someone turned the lights back on.

Amber didn’t wait for me to say anything. She pulled off her top, showing a peach bra that barely covered her. Her chest and stomach were toned from all the dancing. I had to blink, not quite believing this was happening. She was gorgeous, but it was more than that. With her, I felt wanted, not just someone’s brother or some guy from work. She made me feel needed in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

She helped pull my shirt over my head, her hands moving over my chest and stomach. I leaned over her, and she eased back onto the couch, her hair spreading across the cushion. I looked down. Amber’s lips parted in a slow smile, her eyes wide and fixed on me. She bit her lower lip and pulled me closer, her breath warm against my skin. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, not that I had a ton of experience. That didn’t matter now.

I never pictured the day ending like this. Being with her made everything else fade out: the virus, the chaos, all of it. For a week, Zeta was the only thing on my mind. Now, for once, I let it all go.

I leaned in and kissed her again, letting myself get lost in the feel of her body pressed close. Nothing outside those walls mattered. It was just Amber, me, and the way we moved together on that couch, blocking out the world for a little while.

continue to chapter 5

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4 Content Sneak Peek

It's been hard to keep up with everything this month but I just added a new part for people romancing Bailey. Below is a scene I added to chapter 14 if you happened to see Bailey the day before when she was high.

---

"Let's talk about yesterday. I'm worried about you. You were so out of it. What did you take?"

Bailey draws away from you, sits up, and wraps her arms around herself. You now see she is wearing a thin pink camisole and lacy underwear. "It was just a few Oxy. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? I thought we could spend a nice morning together. I even wore this for you." She gestures to her outfit.

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

Here's the link:

Test version (click here)

Part 4 is over 907,000 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, Schedule

Welcome to my 92nd newsletter! As some of you know, I was admitted to the hospital on Monday, June 9, and was discharged on Saturday, June 14. I had bleeding in my stomach and had to have numerous diagnostic tests. Everything went fine, but it was a tough week to say the least. Recovery has been slow, but I work on ZE:SH daily. I’m not that far off from my normal word count, but I lost almost a full week of work.

That said, I’m trying to stick to my plan to send Part 4 to my editor by the end of July. I’ll tell you more about that timeline below.

We are getting closer to the release and hope it happens by this year's end.

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

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4

Part 4 is 906,000 words, with over 16,000 words added this month. As I said, I am off my target but not that far, and I still have more time to write before my next demo release.

Before I went into the hospital, I contacted Hosted Games to let them know I’m submitting Part 4 by the end of July. They were excited to hear it’s almost ready and want me to get in the editing queue as soon as possible. When I submit my files, they will give me an estimate for the release. It’s hard to predict when it will happen, but our goal is to release it before the end of the year.

It’s important to understand the publishing process. Because my games receive a wide release, they must be professionally edited. A real, live editor must read Part 4 and correct grammar, spelling, and minor continuity errors. I will likely be sending them 1 million words. Editing for a book of that size takes months. Also, I write a very lean story. I don’t reuse code or embellish my word counts like I’ve seen some writers do. The editor is going to have to read every single word.

After they finish, they will return the corrected files for my approval. There will be numerous comments that I must fix. That process usually takes me a month for a game of this size.

On top of that, Hosted Games has numerous other games in their queue. Even though I have one of the most successful games, the queue is first-come, first-served. Performance does not allow you to skip the line. I’m still hoping to see it hit the various platforms and Omnibus apps by the end of this year.

In other news, I am wrapping up content I have skipped over time to focus on the main story. Right now, I’m writing more of the scenes in which multiple romantic partners argue over the MC. These scenes take considerable time because there are so many romantic partners, each with their own personalities and motivations.

Next month, I will spend most of my time editing and playtesting. I will then begin Part 4-2, a major free update that will add features and content that people have been waiting for.

Zombie Exodus: Stronghold

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

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

When I start developing Stronghold again, I will work on chapter 6. About two months ago, I reworked the outline and believe it should be about fifteen chapters. That number may change, but I think it’s a reasonable estimate. I’m aiming for the entire game to be roughly 300,000 words. I believe I can accomplish a lot in six months.

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 - 10

Continued from scene 9

You step forward slowly, raising a calming hand. "Hey, I'm here to help."

The woman jerks in surprise, turning quickly toward you. Her eyes are wide, red-rimmed, tears streaking through dirt smudges on her cheeks. She sniffles sharply, taking a shaky breath.

"Oh God, who are you?" Her voice trembles. "Please…my son's locked in there."

"Let me see your arm," you say calmly, stepping closer.

She reluctantly moves the bloodied towels aside, revealing the wound. Your eyes trace the unmistakable signs of infection: skin jaundiced yellow around the bite, angry green lesions spreading outward, and rust-colored blood slowly seeping from the deep puncture marks.

Jessica steps back suddenly, one hand clamped tightly over her mouth and nose, her eyes watering from the putrid smell rising from the wound.

The woman notices Jessica’s reaction, confusion crossing her face. " It-it was just the mailman," she stammers, glancing back toward the bathroom door. "He went crazy and attacked us. He must've had that disease they're talkin’ about on TV. But I'm fine, really."

She sways slightly, still gripping her injured wrist tightly.

Continue to scene 11

Writing Updates

It has been a rough few weeks. Last Monday (6/9), I had to go to the hospital due to bleeding in my stomach. It took days for them to figure out the issue, and I had an emergency procedure. I will have to do more tests and likely have another outpatient procedure, but at least the worst is over. I am recovering at home and will catch up on work over the next few weeks.

Before I went into the hospital, I wrote consistently and got a lot of content done. Below is a bit of discussion on my progress so far.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven Part 4 Progress

So far this month, I have added about 10,000 new words of content and started fixing errors. Most of the latest content has to do with little parts I skipped over, like dealing with Benton if he is at the junkyard, handling the end of chapter 17, and more fallout if the character is actively dating more than one person.

For the rest of this month, I will continue tying up loose ends and adding content that people have requested that fits the narrative. I hope to have the latest beta demo on schedule and a new public version shortly after.

I have talked with Hosted Games about the new release, and they are excited to start publishing it.

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven, Part 4 Content Sneak Peek

In chapter 14, if you have Benton captured, you have the option of letting him out of his cell and letting him get some yard time. Below is the scene.

Benton stands in the yard, his ankles bound with a rope long enough to let him shuffle but not stray far. His wrists are locked in handcuffs, and his shoulders slump. Sweat beads on his brow, and his hair hangs in limp, straw-colored clumps. He chews the end of a plastic straw, jaw working slow and tight. His shoulders sag and his gaze drifts across the yard, lingering on the patch of sun just out of reach. Behind him, Reilly stands watch, hand resting on the grip of his holstered Colt Python. His gaze never leaves Benton.

Benton glances down at the rope and shakes his head, a crooked smile twisting his mouth. “This is ridiculous. You know, I thought yard time meant moving, not starring in my own version of the three-legged race. Why don’t you take off the rope at least? Or is this some new fitness plan. Junkyard Boot Camp?”

Reilly doesn’t bother with a smile. He keeps his voice flat. “No. You keep whining, and I’ll drag you back to that closet and you won’t see daylight for a week.”

Benton sighs, looking up as you approach. He lifts his cuffed wrists and gives you a pleading look. “You think you could talk some sense into your guard dog here? This ain’t much of a break. Come on, I’m not going anywhere.”

You say…

MC POV - Interactive Story - 9

Continued from scene 8

You lead Jessica quietly up the stairs, careful to step near the edges to avoid any creaking. At the top, you peer around the corner. Down the hall, a woman stands hunched over near a closed bathroom door. Her blonde hair hangs loose and tangled around her face, strands damp with sweat. Blood spatters darken the front of her shirt, small droplets smeared across her jeans. She clutches her wrist tightly, paper towels wadded thickly around her forearm, dark brown blood soaking through.

She taps softly against the bathroom door again. Her voice sounds strained even though she speaks softly. "Ryan, come on now, open the door. It's just a scratch. I'm fine, really."

From behind the bathroom door comes a young voice, maybe a teenager. "You promise you're okay, Mom? You swear?"

The woman's shoulders slump in relief. "I promise. Everything's fine. Just open the door for me."

She shifts, adjusting her grip on the paper towels. They fall away for a moment, and you clearly see the angry red bite mark beneath, swollen and oozing, edges darkening in a way you recognize instantly.

Jessica stiffens beside you, her breath sharply drawn in.

Continue to scene 10

Outbreak Scenario 23

It’s been a year since the outbreak began. A few weeks ago, your settlement was attacked. You were out on a scavenging run. When you returned, there was nothing left but ash and corpses.

You’ve been alone, surviving on scraps. Then, three days ago, you saw smoke. Following it, you came upon a functioning settlement.

It’s built around a fortified pre-outbreak campus with thick concrete walls, solar panels, windmills, and freshwater wells. They have animals and farms and seem to be enjoying life like it was before the outbreak. The guards don’t stop you at the gate.

Everything seems safe, clean, and structured, but it’s not long before you realize what holds this place together: a belief in the god of death. They hold rituals where they wear bone-colored robes, recite chants, and claim death is a gift.

They offer you food, shelter, and safety. But only if you convert.

What do you do?