Thanks for the comments and compliments, much appreciated.
Anyway the map is now the final version, as I am away after tonight. But for those of you familiar with the Year of the Zombie setting, its traditional in our books to provide some flavour for each section. So in that tradition I submit the following except from notes found in the ruins of Relief Station 27.
So this is how it ends, two people trapped on the roof of a dead relief station, whilst the dead rampage below clamoring to get to the last two survivors of Relief Station 27.
Its hard to believe that this episode in my life started 4 days prior, as I stumbled into the fortified enclosure amongst all the other shock and injured refuges. "Refuges" it sounds like something you'd hear on the news from Africa as another despot fights for control of a small country. Hard to imagine that it could happen here in the good ole U S of A. Even harder to believe that the cause would be the dead returning to life and attacking the living, but with what I have seen over the last 24 hours, I'd believe in santa and the easter bunny without a second thought.
I recall the entrance to the refuge vividly, the soldiers relieving jumpy civilian of their "weapons". Anything from a kitchen bread knife to an imported AK47, each of use were ordered to stip to our underwear, examined and depending on if we were bitten or not herded one way or another.
The clamour of people being seperated, demanding to see lawyers, demanding their rights, all of them thinking that somehow the old world had survived, and none of them willing to see what was happening for what it really was.
After medical screening, we were questioned about our professions and history, anyone able to use a weapon was put on guard detail, in my case my former profession as a nurse put me straight into the infirmary. It was here that I learned the fate of those that exibited signs of being bitten by the "infected" as we were then calling them. They were simply given two choices, take their chances on the outside of the refuge, or take a bullet in the head. I was horrified, these were living, breathing people. American citizens protected by the constitution. It wasn't until a patient died in the infirmary that I found out the practicality of this policy, anyone bitten will die of massive infection and die within 24-48 hours, without exception. They were doing them a favour, at least when the opted for the bullet.
Over the next few days, I treat many wounded, only to have them ferried out by black hawk to the main Relief Station outside Santa Rosa. Then the blackhawks stopped coming.
I found out on the grape vine that the blackhawks had stopped after survivors in another relief station swamped the vehicle and caused it to crash. It was deemed too much of a risk to continue.
One by one the stations fell to the undead hoard. Until day 6 when we heard that the main Relief Station had fallen, apparently someone had concealed a bite. Once they had risen and killed the number of undead in the station rose exponentially until only a few survivors managed to get out.
It wasn't long before the radio's fell silent and we manned our guard posts waiting for the inevitable to come. There was nowhere to go, no help coming and around 150,000 insatiable undead all wanting nothing more than to feast on our flesh.
SO here we are, a nurse and a volunteer soldier, the last 2 survivors of Relief Station 27, sitting on a roof surrounded by thousands of undead, two bullets left....
Notes found in an overun Relief Station in Santa Rosa, CA