Losing The Army-Personal Narrative

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My bed called for me. The long night along with the impromptu breakfast had me yearning for sleep. I took a long drink from a bottle of water and laid back on my rumpled blankets. Wadding the pillow into a tight ball, I nuzzled against its soft surface looking for that sweet, comfortable spot.
I really didn’t like sleeping much. It wasn’t the rest. It was the dreams. Every night my failure to keep Chris alive replayed over and over in my dreams. It made me dread getting any kind of rest.
But I was so tired, I just couldn’t stand it. I was almost aching with the need for slumber.
Just as I started to slip into unconsciousness, a loud, urgent knocking sounded from the door. At first I ignored it, but it sounded several more times with no sign of subsiding. In a huff I threw back the covers and hastily dressed. The pounding on the
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The soldiers had abandoned it during a pitched battle with an unusually large horde of zombies and the yawning entrance evidenced their hasty retreat. Losing the airport wasn’t a hard choice. The military had been holding it, hoping for a someone with flying skills to happen along. Now that I’d arrived, it was time to take it back.
The few ghouls inside the fence were attracted by our arrival. They staggered in our direction, some pulling their broken bodies across the ground with their hands. There must’ve been twenty of them, snow clinging to their cold bodies.
The crew may have been mechanics but they were also trained fighting men. Suppressors muffling much of the noise, they made quick work of the ghouls. The nearest going down first, we made our way through the gate and I took the opportunity to close and secure it so we wouldn’t have any stragglers coming in behind us.
The airport was small. A five of quonset huts and a two story tower. It reminded me of a smaller version of the one in Erie. Much smaller, but they probably had a fraction of the traffic we saw down

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