Finding Shelter

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Max had been walking alone for a week straight. He’d traveled only at night, walking around dusk and going to sleep a little before sunrise.

He wore a large camping pack, mostly full of food and water, as well as things like extra ammunition, maps, a compass, lighters, and some extra clothing.

He still had his Glock with him. He wore it as he always did in its holster. As he walked, he carried an AR-15 in both hands. Only rarely did he sling it over his back. The world had only gotten nastier, and he didn’t like walking without his finger close to the trigger if he could avoid it.

It had been several months since the hordes of desperate people had invaded the campground. Months since Max had led the defense of the camp. Months since Max, Mandy, Georgia and the others had barely survived.

In those months, a lot had happened. They’d started to construct something that really resembled a home, with actual structures that resembled buildings. They’d been able to gather more supplies and had in many ways made their day-to-day lives more comfortable.

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