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Outside, the wind has picked up and blows leaves across the ground, shifting dirt over dry asphalt. The yard had been used for storage in latter weeks, mostly boxes of religious items left from long ago and the remnants of construction materials. The scene looks like a hoarder's paradise.

"We need people stacking boxes along the outer wall to create a step-ladder. We also need to gather as many supplies as possible. All the while, we need to keep watch on the hall in case zombies break through the doors. Let's go."

Mindy darts to the door, sticking her SMG past the doorway to watch the hall for the living dead, should they break through the doors. Emma reaches for a box of clergy garments and slams it on the ground next to the 10-foot high wall.

"I'm getting supplies," Heather says and rushes into the hallway. You shift the boxes and slide them over the rough ground, arranging them low-to-high against the ten-foot wall. Some of the boxes are flimsy and moldy, bursting open from the bottom when you lift, dumping their contents. A seemingly simple task turns into a physical ordeal but the thought of zombies rushing into the courtyard is motivating.