[ RF ] Based on what you do as work/hobby , describe your survival in a zombie apocalypse .

Sean was by my side. He was nervous. The guy had been through a lot - the last outpost he was at had been over run by the horde. Poor guy, he'd seen some shit. 
 
 Well. I suppose we all have these days. Some of the younger ones might not remember it, but us older folk were there when the world ended. We watched the dead rise. Watched the panic. Watched it spread. 
 
 Watched as our loved ones were eaten alive. 
 
 We've all seen some shit. I guess I'm just used to it now. If you're up to you neck in shit, you better learn to swim. And that's what I do best - I learn. 
 
 Sean stopped. He squinted into the darkness, out towards the bonfires, his breathing was quick and shallow. 
 
 `` What's up?'' I said. 
 
 `` Thought I saw something.'' 
 
 We keep the camp unlit at night. They, the Z's, can only see as well as us in the dark, but they never stop shambling, all the while they listen. Nothing wrong with their sense of smell, either. The camp is dark but we have bonfires set up at intervals away from the perimeter wall - that way we can see them moving around out there, without them seeing us. 
 
 One of my better ideas. 
 
 We're not really watching for stragglers or loners whilst on patrol. It's the horde you have to worry about. One or two are n't so bad. But, when you have a walking wall of the fuckers, shuffling towards you... it's a war of attrition and they have the numbers. And none of them need to rest. Or to eat. 
 
 That's the thing - they do n't *need* to eat. They just do. 
 
 I reached out and tapped the binoculars around Sean's neck, he looked at them, surprised. He had forgotten he had them. With their help he looked out at the offending bonfire. 
 
 He seemed no less worried, `` It was nothing.'' 
 
 We continued to walk the wall. 
 
 `` So,'' said Sean `` What's your story? I see you around camp. Most people seem to do one assigned thing, you're one of the few that do a bit of everything.'' 
 
 I chuckled. We had n't really talked before, Sean and I. Eventually, he wouldd get to know us all, the people of the camp. He'd hear our histories and learn how we all fit into this place. Generally, I avoided talking too much on patrol but the guy was a bit shaken, so I made an exception. 
 
 `` Yeah, I am a bit of an all-rounder, are n't I?'' I said. 
 
 `` What were you before - you know - all this?'' Sean said `` A farmer or something?'' 
 
 I laughed and shook my head. Me. A farmer. Actually, these days - yeah, I guess - a bit. 
 
 `` No, not a farmer.'' I said. `` I used to work in I.T. - computers and stuff.'' 
 
 *Shit*, I thought, *would he even remember computers? How old is he? * 
 
 He nodded and, although it was dark, I could see that he smiled `` My Dad worked in I.T. as well. Management and support.'' 
 
 *Well, there you go*, I thought. *He's one of the younger ones that might be able to understand what I used to do. What I used to be. What the *world* used to be. * 
 
 `` I mostly did programming.'' I said. 
 
 We were quiet for a while, which was okay by me. As I looked out on the bonfires I could see a few figures, vaguely human, shuffling around. I did n't tell Sean. They were far enough out that they would n't be a problem. No sense in panicking the kid. 
 
 Sean broke the silence. `` So, I guess programming ai n't that useful of a skill these days.'' 
 
 `` Nope.'' I said `` But, programming was just something I taught myself to earn a living. That's my real skill.'' 
 
 `` What is?'' The kid probably *was* curious, to a degree, but for the most part I think he just wanted one of us to talk. He was n't comfortable with the silence yet. 
 
 `` Learning.'' I said. `` I'm always willing to learn. Always have been. As a result, I'm a man of lots of little talents. I can make fire, make shelter, make food. I learned to weld from my Dad and learned patience from my Mum. I help the kids of the camp with their reading and writing, and I keep'em entertained, too. Was n't always a kid person, but I learned - had no choise when I became an uncle.'' 
 
 Sean let out a chuckle, I was happy he had relaxed, even if just a bit. `` Jack of all trades.'' 
 
 `` And master of none.'' I said. `` I'm just a willing pair of hands that can help out where it's needed. There are plenty of people more important to this camp than me, I mean, we're lucky enough to have a couple of doctors.'' 
 
 `` Well, either way, you seem well liked.'' 
 
 I stopped walking and looked at him. `` Because I listen. One of the most powerful skills to have in this world - and one of the easiest to learn, but hardest to master - is knowing how to listen. 
 
 Sean nodded. 
 
 `` Also,'' I said, as I turned and continued the patrol `` I tell stories. Why the adults like me is essentially the same reason the kids like me. I can tell stories.'' 
 
 `` Stories?'' 
 
 `` Yeah, stories. I used to write for fun, back in the day. So I tell little stories and make little worlds that take us away from all of this - lift us out of hell and into the light, if only for a little while.'' 
 
 Sean was quiet for a few seconds, then said `` Oh, crap, I just got it.'' 
 
 `` What?'' 
 
 `` What they call you, I thought it was your surname or something.'' 
 
 `` Hey,'' Said a voice from below the wall, inside the camp `` Book, your shift is over.'' 
 
 **Edit: Oops, I opened a new doc for this prompt and then came back to it later. What I thought I was writing was not necessarily in line with what I think the prompt was meant to be about - I wrote about a day in the life of a post-zombie outbreak, as opposed to surviving the outbreak. Might give it another try. **
