YOU'VE BEEN LEFT4DEAD.

PLEASE STATE YOUR FULL NAME, AGE, WHERE YOU WERE FROM, AND OCCUPATION BEFORE THE OUTBREAK FOR THE RECORD.

" ashley james slaughter, but friends call me ash. and don't let the last name fool ya, i promise we're real nice people. " the interviewee keeps a very conversational tone, and he smiles throughout. he seems very good-natured, but there's also something about him that feels like predisposed to trouble and mischief. but i guess we'll just have to see. " thirty-two years old, born and raised on my family's farm, just three miles out of mistwood. you might have heard of us? " there's something about the way that he talks that feels like he's advertising, like this apocalypse is only temporary and we'll go back to the ways things were soon enough. optimistic or foolish? " we open doors during halloween season … y'know, slaughter family farm's haunted corn maze? "

WHAT SKILLS, TRAINING, OR EXPERIENCE DO YOU HAVE THAT COULD HELP THIS COMMUNITY SURVIVE?

" just told you where i'm from so the answer's gotta be pretty obvious, " the interviewee jests, and there might be some truth to that but he is then reminded that we need an explanation to provide him a proper placement within the community. " alright, alright, i don't have my father's green thumb, but he pretty much knows … " he pauses for a second, chuckling to himself, as if he just caught himself making a mistake. " … knew everything. but he had taught as much as he could in the last decade. farm's been passed down from one son to the next for the last century, y'know? " the interviewee has a bittersweet smile before he looks around, like he was imagining his surroundings. " we can probably turn the fountains under the skylights into planters. we can start with potatoes, which are a great source of energy. then we rotate them with garlic, onion, shallots or leeks for a winter harvest. " then the interviewee looks up, smiling as he seems to recall everything he's learned from his family's farm. " and then we can start a garden on the rooftop for the crops that can survive year-round. kale, spinach, carrots, beets, radishes … i also remember my mom growing rosemary and parsley outside, even during the winter. your cooks are going to love that. "

HAVE YOU LIVED IN ANY OTHER SETTLEMENTS, AND IF SO, WHY DID YOU LEAVE THEM?

" just our farm, if you can even call that a settlement. " a humorless chuckle escapes the interviewee. " always knew it as just home, y'know? " he does not shy away from showing his emotions here, obviously sad and disappointed that he had to leave home. " life there was all i've known … i never even dreamed of anything else since my folks raised me to take care of all that land one day. " there's conflict in the interviewee's expression, riddled with both grief and confusion. " even just going into the city felt like a whole another world … so this? this apocalypse? it feels like a brand new life entirely. " the interviewee pauses for a few seconds, trying to smile again and again until it finally sticks. " and since the farm was pretty much by the highway, all the noise and ruckus made by people driving away from their fates basically brought the undead into our direction. " he maintains the smile, no matter how palpable his grief is, probably to avoid completely breaking down. " the fences kept them manageable for the first few weeks. our dad taught me and the other older kids how to shoot when we were young, but that was mostly for the stray bears and cougars. " then, a sigh. " but there were more and more everyday, until a real horde came from another town. dad refused to die anywhere else, and mom refused to leave his side … so when the fences fell, i had to take my brothers somewhere else. i was just driving and driving when i heard a pretty voice on the radio, telling survivors can come here. guess you can say an angel led us here. "

WHY DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THIS COMMUNITY, AND WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE WE LETTING THROUGH THESE GATES?

" i need a place where my family will be safe, where they'll be protected, " the interviewee says matter-of-factly. " i've got six brothers and i think we can all be useful here. i know how to grow crops, a brother of mine was studying to be a veterinarian, and another's real good with fixing machinery and shit, and the rest can carry learn and carry their weight. " it is very apparent that he wants to make this work for his entire family, and it might be an all or nothing situation when it comes to them. " our parents raised us well, and we're good people. let us prove that to you. " he adds and it doesn't seem like he'll take no for an answer, but only because of how much he cares about his siblings. " the world's going to fix itself one day. and i know it sounds foolish after we've all already lost so much so quick, but it will. but right now, we all need each other to keep each other alive until that happens. " then the interviewee leans forward, whispering in a lower tone, but the recorder still manages to capture his voice. " plus, my dad taught me how to make a real good moonshine, recipe dating back to the prohibition. i bet i can scavenge some parts from the food court to make a brewing setup. " the interviewee smiles impishly then shrugs. " what's being alive without living, right? "

HOW MANY WALKERS HAVE YOU KILLED? HOW MANY PEOPLE, AND WHY?

" does anyone actually keep count? " the interviewee asks, but he doesn't seem to think too hard about it. " we did think they were just sick in the beginning. that maybe there's still a person in there … but it's also easy to abandon thinking like that when you're just trying to protect your family. it's hard to feel guilty when it's you or them. " this line of thinking may lead to questionable actions in the future in the name of survival or protecting his family. he doesn't need to be kept an eye on, but check-ins when making decisions might be necessary. " i don't know, maybe i've killed a hundred? a little bit more than that? " the next question doesn't take much thinking, however. " i've never killed another person. and i pray to god i never have to. " but there seems to be a hint of pessimism in his eyes, as if he knows it might be an inevitability with how things are going. " but i think you've figure out by now that i'll do anything to keep my family safe. they're the reason i wake up everyday and fight when so many have already given up, y'know? "

PLEASE STATE YOUR FULL NAME, AGE, WHERE YOU WERE FROM, AND OCCUPATION BEFORE THE OUTBREAK FOR THE RECORD.

" my name is preston john walker, thirty-two years old. " the answer comes out easy from the interviewee, with a mild emphasis on his last name. he seems very proud of his pedigree, almost as if we should've already known about it. " born and raised in happy valley, oregon. joined the army at eighteen, climbed up to sergeant first class in the united states army before the world fell apart. "

WHAT SKILLS, TRAINING, OR EXPERIENCE DO YOU HAVE THAT COULD HELP THIS COMMUNITY SURVIVE?

" i've got a decade of military service under my belt, " the interviewee clicks his tongue, like the answer is obvious. however, he is still implored to explain to provide us with a better understanding. he seems to hesitate for a brief moment ( hiding something? ), before that cocksure smile returns to his lips. " i could tell you everything but then we'll be here all day. but all you gotta know is i've known how to shoot a gun since i was nine. just comes with the territory of having a strict no-nonsense major general as your dad. had that philosophy of gotta teach 'em early, y'know? so he brought me and brothers in a lot of hunting trips growing up. " the interviewee shrugs and laughs lightly, as if reminiscing, though he actually doesn't look all too happy ( resentment? trauma? ). " you see, every man in our family was military, ' cept my twin brother. accidentally shot our mom when our mom while he was playing with dad's guns. dad never forgave him, don't think he ever forgave himself either. " the interviewee pauses for a few second, and scoffs when he realizes he's said too much. he shakes his head before continuing on with confidence in his eyes. " anyway, i've provided training to both enlisted and non-commissioned officers. i'm one hell of a shot. and i'm pretty good at reading people … at knowing what they want. " the interviewee smiles like he's letting us in on the secret to surviving in this world. " … at knowing what they need. like it or not, people are the most valuable resource now. and they're only as useful as when they feel safe and happy. "

HAVE YOU LIVED IN ANY OTHER SETTLEMENTS, AND IF SO, WHY DID YOU LEAVE THEM?

" my brother and i immediately came to camp withycombe when the outbreak began. " he is more nonchalant about this question, just recounting memory without pretense. " the first two months are manageable. we had guns. we had tanks. we had men patrolling the perimeter twenty-four seven. but then survivors from all over the place kept pouring in, " the interviewee says it more like a cautionary tale ( will be against opening doors to just anyone? ). " supplies started running thin after that. and hungry people are the most difficult to control. people started fighting for rations, egos flying everywhere to prove their importance and who should get fed first. " he laughs, mostly in disbelief as he recounts the event. " things fell apart before a horde of the dead even came. they just took advantage of the chaos. my brother and i were lucky enough to get out of there by the skin of our teeth. " then he snaps his fingers, shaking his head at the outcome. " thousands of people dead just like that. hopefully this place doesn't fall to same fate. "

WHY DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THIS COMMUNITY, AND WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE WE LETTING THROUGH THESE GATES?

the interviewee answers with a laugh at first, like he couldn't believe the question is serious. " for some goddamn reason, this place still has electricity and running water. those things are goddamn miracles at this point, so who wouldn't want to be here? " the answer seems candid and truthful enough, but something in his eyes says he only just about to really sell himself. " you've got real good thing going here, and you're community seems strong. but it can be stronger⸻ " he pauses as a very charming smile curls his lips upward ( he seems to know exactly when to be disarming ). it's probably well-intentioned but could also be used for manipulation. " ⸻with me. if my military experience isn't enough, then consider that i'm a very relentless person. i like getting what i want and what i want right now is a fighting chance. we can't do things alone anymore in this world, and i'll make sure this community survives … because i sure as hell want to survive. "

HOW MANY WALKERS HAVE YOU KILLED? HOW MANY PEOPLE, AND WHY?

" walkers? is that what you call 'em? " he said, amusement clear in his tone, but it's obvious he just doesn't want to answer the questions right away. " guess you can call me one of them then. we called those dead bastards huskies where i'm from. 'cause y'know, they're just husks now. " then he leans back in his seat, and something feels defiant about it although he maintains a smile on his lips. " i've killed too many of them at this point. a hundred, maybe two hundred? " he stops there, so the next question is restated. the interviewee looks indignant at first, before he lets out a surrendering sigh. " before or after the apocalypse? " it is then clarified that the question meant post-outbreak, though it must be noted that he must've also killed people beforehand due to his military service. " three. " he finally answers. " the first two tried to kill me and my brother while we were on our way here to washington. they held us at knifepoint to take whatever little supplies we had left. " the words rolls off his tongue easily, almost mechanical, like he didn't want to tell that story at all. understandable, but necessary to ask anyway. " and we fought back, like how our daddy raised us. " he pauses again, so he is then promptly reminded about the third kill. " my twin brother. we were sleeping in a car when we woke up surrounded by the huskies. he was always the fuck-up, y'know? " a sharp exhale escapes him. " i never saw him that way, but that was how our dad made him feel. that's how he felt about himself while living in my shadow … i guess he wanted to do something right. so he got out of there, sacrificed himself, so i can make a run for it. " the interviewee delivers it with a straight face, perhaps trying not to show emotion or stopping himself from breaking down. " so i ran while they tore into him. and when i was far enough, i shot him in the head … to make it quicker. "