Hundreds of Infected
everywhere when we woke this morning. A few walked right by our car.
The dim light and relentless rain left us all but invisible. Where
the hell did they come from?
Starting the car earned us
a few glances but the Infected seemed slower to notice us in the
rain. By the time any had taken more than a couple of steps towards
us we were driving around them and on our way.
There's little point
dwelling on where they came from. It's a lesson learned to simply see
them appear like that overnight. Their numbers would have overwhelmed
us had they noticed us. We were saved by the weather.
The search for fuel took a
nasty turn today. After leaving enough space between us and the crowd
of Infected, I slowed the car down so that we could inspect other
vehicles as we drove past. Almost all had their fuel caps opened or
removed. It was pure hubris to think that we were the only desperate
survivors to pass this way.
At first I was elated,
thinking that there might be other survivors, but hope quickly faded.
I realised this could have happened at any time over the past few
weeks. This is why I am so desperate for news.
Keeping the car slow
enough to check out every vehicle we pass is going to expend fuel a
lot faster than we can afford. We are parked right now. I have to
pick a town or village to explore. Main plans haven't changed, but
the cars I thought we could siphon clean on the road have already
been emptied. Just hope the village/town situation isn't the same.
Cars there, especially in garages and carports, are our best hope.
That means we have to dick around with hoses and fuel caps while
worrying about the Infected again. Great.
Craig just stares out of
the window. He's eating still, which I assume is a good sign, but
other than that he does almost nothing. Then again, there's nothing
to do except stare out of the window.
