James’s Notes: We’re on the road to the bug out location. Now, as we hit the road, the choices are about to get harder.
You drive past sun up, and well into noon. You have to go across the median and through parking lots a few times to pass broken down cars, but so far the roads are more or less clear.
The first time you nod off at the wheel, you realize that if you don’t stop soon you’re going to crash. You find a gas station that was probably long abandoned before the Phage hit, and pull around back. You park your jeep between the dumpster and the wooden fence, hopefully shielding you from prying eyes.
You do a quick inventory before grabbing something to eat and at least trying to sleep.
You’re glad you have the rifle you took off the soldier, although you wish you had more than one magazine.
A lot of the supplies in the back of the Jeep were still there. You think someone was keeping them as their own personal stash. The 32 count case of bottled water is back there, along with 9 MREs and some assorted snacks.
You wrinkle your nose at the packs of Vanilla Wafers. You hate the things, but your dad has been convinced you love them since you were five. The ranch flavored corn nuts are a win, though.
You also find your toolbox, first aid kit, and the woodcraft kit your dad made you, with its hatchet, rope, tarp, and fire starting equipment.
You know your dad would have packed your grandpa’s old Marine Corps combat knife in there too, but it looks like some asshole took that. You hope whoever took it was one of the guards who caught a bullet.
You wrap up with the blanket that you always keep thrown over the back seat, and catch a few Z’s. You know it’s dangerous, but your dad taught you that nothing’s more dangerous than not sleeping at all. Besides, no people should be able to see you where you’re parked, and the infected wouldn’t be able to get in the jeep without waking you up.
By the time you wake up, it’s almost dark. You decide to hunker down here till morning. At first light, you scarf some jerky and take a quick look around the gas station.
It’s obviously been abandoned for a long time, but you do manage to score a slightly rusty crowbar, a surprisingly clean leather jacket with only one rip in it, and a gallon baggie full of weed hidden behind the counter.
You don’t plan on getting high on the road, but you never know, maybe someone will have a use for it.
You start making miles east and are pleasantly surprised with how clear the highway is. It looks like all the evacuees either didn’t make it this far, or made it further.
As you’re coming around a bend in a section of road lined with pine trees, you find the road about a hundred yards ahead blocked. Several cars look like they had a huge pile up. There is a woman standing next to a wrecked sedan, covered in blood, waving you down for help.
What do you do?