[ PI ] You 're the lone survivor of a zombie apocalypse simply because zombies are n't interested in you .

All I have left is my faith. I ca n't remember the last time I saw somebody. It must've been 12, 13 years ago? I tried to get to them, but they were quickly overrun. 
 
 It started so long ago, I ca n't even remember how it happened. I remember being a young Lutheran pastor-in-training in my seminary. I had a lot of friends then, and life was good. I did n't pay much attention to the outside world as it did n't have any relevance to me, and I figured once I graduated I could help people, but in the meantime there was n't any point. The little glimpses and tidbits I did catch were n't much. The virus started in China somewhere, apparently connected to chickens. The next thing I remember was me along with the rest of Chicago being evacuated. They managed to quarantine the city, and we were all shuffled to an evacuation center in Madison Wisconsin. Thousands came from Minneapolis and Miluwakee. The problem was some evacuees carried the virus with them, and we're unchecked. Eventually the Baraboo-Madison center became infected, and it quickly got out of hand. 
 
 The government proceeded to evacuate us again to Des Moines, which was relatively untouched. Anyone who was infected was killed, everyone else was herded into Des Moines where we became completely isolated from the outside world. Large walls and fences were erected around the city. That lasted for two years, just enough time for me to graduate, and I had just started as a pastor at a church in Des Moines. Shortly after a few of the infected broke through a hole some teenagers made to get out. Things quickly went downhill after that. 
 
 It all happened within a few days. Those who fled were eaten, those who stayed ended up either being eaten or committing mass suicide. I tried my best to preach the faith and to let the people know things would be okay if they asked God for it to be okay. It was n't okay. I quickly realized while running away from a hoard chasing a group of us that they did n't care about me. They caught up to us, took three of us, but left me even though I was in reach. At first I thought I was a miracle from God, but after two to three more encounters, I saw that for whatever reason they just did n't care. 
 
 That was 31 years ago today. I've managed to live off of the giant supply of rations the Army brought to us for these 31 years, and I probably have another 50 years left, 70-80 if I conserve. But I wo n't live that long. The loneliness grows deeper every day. All I have left is my faith. The bible says we shall not perish before we see Jesus again, so I can only hope and believe that he will come before I die. At this point I think I'm the last one left. 12 years have passed since I've had sight of another human being. I do n't think anyone is alive anymore. I still go to the pulpit every Sunday to preach. I give a sermon to myself to keep my sanity, though my bread and wine ran out long ago and any paper I have left is crumpled, torn, and falling apart. I'm not even sure I believe anymore. I might just be trying to keep myself alive. I do n't know. 
 
 I can only pray until he comes back. If he comes back.
