A helicopter crashed somewhere nearby.
We didn't even realize there was one flying around, but some of the zombies at the walls began to act funny, holding their ears like something was hurting them. It was a few seconds later that we could hear the beat of the rotors and the scream of what was plainly a dying engine. Guess the undead have sharper hearing than we thought.
Jess and I were in the back yard harvesting summer squash (gross, but they grow like weeds and they keep us going) when we saw the thing go overhead. I have to think that it was heading for the hospital, since that is the direction it was going and the only helipad in the county. Not that it couldn't have landed somewhere else, but anyone with enough brains to fly the thing is probably smart enough to know that the hospital is the only game in town for fuel that will work in a helicopter.
Of course, the hospital is the only game because we made sure that no one would want to get into the national guard armory or the airport. From the sky you can tell that both places have been gutted. We keep a lot of that stuff hidden elsewhere...just in case.
But I digress.
A team went out to find the wreckage and see if there are any survivors, or at least anything we can salvage. It scares me a little, because that wasn't a normal chopper. It was military. Anyone who saw it would have recognized the distinctive shape of a blackhawk. Hopefully this won't go in a bad direction and isn't a harbinger of renewed hostilities with ex-military or wanna-be commandos. We took such heavy losses last time...
I'm hoping to hear something before too long. It won't take the team more than a quarter hour to get there, and only a few minutes to search. I just opened up an old bottle of Ancient Age and poured half a snifter. Thinking about what bad things might come of this, I really need a drink to calm my nerves.