Kingsmouth
Kingsmouth Airport (900,700)
Human
Alive
The Phoenicians
Handyman
Unknown
The handyman of Kingsmouth Municipal Airport is good not only at repairing broken things, but also at surviving.
Hiding from the zombies in one of the hangars, Ellis Hill has set bear traps all around the place, and when that's not enough, he's lighting them up with plane fuel.
No handyman could acquire those skills without some heavy past. Nobody in town could tell whhat that past is, as he only recently arrived in Kingsmouth, just a while before the fog hit the town.
The truth is, if you asked the ghost of the real Mr. Hill, he'd tell you to be wary about the man in the hangar. And if you follow the signal he's getting through that broken radio of his, you would find yourself deep into Phoenician's business.
I've been up and down the coast. Up and down a whole bunch of coasts, my whole life. Lot of machine shops, engine yards. Planes. Boats. Big boats. You could say I was a born fixer, a can-do man.
The bosses point me at a problem, they know it's gonna get fixed. I'll find a way. In my experience, there's nothing in the world that won't yield with the right tools applied to it. Just might be my mantra. You gotta take pleasure in what you do, don't you agree? That's important. Identify the problem, enact the solution, and reap the rewards of a job well done.
Look, I don't mean to sermonise. I'll bet people are lining up to tell you what to believe. What rules you should follow, what morality they define. But if you can't find pleasure in acting it out...Somebody with your assets, could be there's another port ou there for you. Keep it in mind.
Their spirit doesn't break easy, the sea-beasts. Spending more time working on them over than seeing to the planes. They're about as resilient, and twice as stubborn. The sea breeds things tough, scours out weakness. That's how it works. So I really have to go to town with the power tools. But spare the rod, spoil the abomination.
These birds are all grounded till the fog lifts. The radio's fritzed. I ask you, what else for a man to keep himself occupied with. Not whittling wood, not while we're under invasion. So I've been siphoning off aviation fuel, using it for Greek fire. Lit 'em up and shit, they didn't like that. No school like old school when it comes to warfare. Extreme measure are timeless.
Speaking of such, pray you're out of here before the higher powers do so unto this whole island. Oh, you don't think they have that planned? Drop the bombs and sow the salt. "An infamous land where nothing may be built for all time."
This storm, everything in it, it'll pass. That's the straight truth. And you know you can beliebe it, because I am all about certainty. Goes with my line of work. A certain method and certain results. Nobody wants to put their life or money in the hands of a betting man.
My advice - and you can take it on board or not - is to learn what you can from this. Because this is a learning experience, like a bulldog getting its first blooding. Bad times show you how far theses people are willing to go. Show you a few home truths about yourself. Get ready to see a bunch of appeals to virtue overturned.
Now, I won't be casting judgement on your actions. We're not so different, you and I. At the end of the day, we're fixers. We got a job to do, come hell, comme high water. Comme hell outta high water.