your life on it? You might be able to hit something that small at the rifle, or pistol range, but that paper target isn't running after you full speed and trying to eat your ass.
I've been alone quite a few times; on one level I prefer it, but on another, it's nice to have someone watch your back while you sleep. The first group I was with consisted of six of us at the beginning of the first night and one the next morning, me. I guess I was the only one who could deal with the steep learning curve. The second group consisted of twelve people and me, thirteen of us. There were seven women and six men and we lasted close to two weeks before the Big One, the quake. I'm sure most of them were killed, or infected, but some may have escaped, maybe. I did. It was touch and go for a while because I had to re-equip; something you have to do when you escape with nothing, but boxers. I haven't taken off my clothes to sleep since. The third group was good. Seven National Guard personnel, five men and two women trained as Military Police who were well equipped and armed. We were operating out of a high-rise building and when the attack came I was upstairs on the next floor using the facilities; we never used the toilets on the floor we occupied because we couldn't flush them. I'm not sure what happened, I heard shots, but too few and by the time I reached the staircase it was full of infected. I and one other person escaped down another stairway, but I returned days later even though the infected seem to have a habit of hanging around where they have made a successful kill. Their weapons and ammo were too valuable.
We call them zombies. They're not really dead per se, but they may as well be. They are not your typical movie zombies, you know, the ones that stumble slowly around and moan? God, I wish they were. They are fast, strong, fearless, and they just won't quit coming. So, if they are as deadly as I say, why am I still alive while so many have died? Good question; let me start at the beginning.