Flight of the Death Squawkers
At 12:15 pm, August 2nd, 2032, a hundred scavenging groups spread into the city to obtain supplies. Most groups were around fifty soldiers in size, with many teams banding together.
The day started just like any other. It was hot as hell, the soldiers were nervous, and the list of supplies in their hands was just as absurd as always.
"This is ridiculous." Chen scoffed, looking at the list, "Not only are power generators rare, but they're also ridiculously heavy. Does she expect us to haul these through zombie territory?"
Once the power grid went down, personal power generators became in demand and fought over. As a result, many got destroyed, stolen, and shipped off.
"This is probably training." Jackson said, "It's like capture the flag, where we're protecting the generator as we move through the town."
"Don't make it out like it's a…." The Chinese man began, "Nah, never mind. We already decided that games are better then the General's training."