[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=00ff00][center]Gregory Stone[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
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Location: No 62 Arnco Mills, GA[/center][hr]
It had been a long month. Ok. Just over a month. More like a month and a half. Where he was now was significantly different to what life was like back at Robins. While life there sucked, they had power, defences and a whole load of other things. While things were looking bad there, Gregory was starting to regret leaving. Sure, it would have eventually descended into chaos and mutiny, but at least walkers couldn’t get you there.

Greg couldn’t truly complain, though; he had gotten fairly lucky in his time outside Robins walls. Well as lucky as luck could be in this new harsh reality. He had found some food, not a lot, but enough. His search for new supplies had taken him northbound furthermore, to the sleepy little area of Arnco Mills. The place had seemed quiet and it did appear as if no one was around. He had spotted the odd walker, but it seemed that they were more bothered with other things. And that was good. Greg was not in the best position to deal with those sort of things currently. He had run out of distraction devices and he really didn’t want to have to use his gun. He had loathed using it before, and he continued to loathe it now. Currently, he had made his way onto 4th street, looking around at the varying degree of empty homes. He needed batteries. He needed anything electronic and these houses seemed like a good place to start.

The heat had done a number on the road, causing it crack and crack more and more, the place had turned into a wasteland of sorts. It appeared as if Arnco Mills was a leafy green place when it was maintained, but the foliage and shrubs had now gotten out of control, overgrowing everything it seemed. This was good, though. It meant you could hide from Walkers a lot easier, but it also meant that they could hide from you too. Greg would approach a nearby house, No 62. It was a nice little-detached house, white and wooden and despite the apocalypse seemed to look whiter than ever. Almost pristine.  It seemed like it would be the perfect place to find some supplies. Slowly walking over to the door, Greg placed his ear on the wood, waiting to see if he could hear anything on the other side, any sort of giveaway that he was in trouble, or that someone could be waiting for him on the other side.