Day 49, 90 minute days, Nomad difficulty, 24 max alive. The difference between this horde and the previous one was as drastic a difference as between night and day. The floor was submerged in a sea of glowing, irradiated green, pounding its way into the concrete walls of my compound. There were cops aplenty, and puking vultures too, and from just five minutes in, I knew I was going to get my teeth kicked in. "I'll just do some exploration and questing after this horde", I had said before. But there will be no time for celebrations or relaxing road trips.
They breached my base fairly early on and caused some fairly serious havoc. Towards the middle of the massacre, several demolishers spawned, one after the other, forcing me to abandon ship on numerous occasions to face them in the battlefields beyond. I went through over 3,000 ammunition of various types (AP, HP, and regular), as well as almost a dozen contact grenades and 20 frag rockets.
When the night went quiet, my heart continued to pound. I am shaken, still recovering from this horrific onslaught. They tore my base a new one; double thick reinforced concrete walls were not enough to withstand their incredible might. But I prevailed. My almighty weapons - Sally, my T6 AK-47, Becky, my T6 M60, and Rocket, my T2 Rocket Launcher - held them back with overwhelming firepower. But at a terrible cost. For the next seven days, I will have to rebuild, repair, fortify, and upgrade. I sense I have only gotten a taste of things to come. The nightmare fuel has started, and I am in no way prepared for it. God speed anyone who has made it this far.