I was up before the first light of morning. Today is gonna be a long one, so I had to head on early. I stepped out of the porch, Ghost following close behind, tail low but alert, ears flickering at every sound beyond the fence line. The farm was quiet; everyone is still asleep. I adjusted the straps of my rifle and knelt to pat Ghost's side. "Truck's gonna stay put today, boy. We move light, move quiet. We'll need something bigger if we wanna start real hauls." Ghost gave a short bark in response, as if agreeing.
I'd been planning this run since last night. Our supplies were decent now, but long term survival meant thinking months ahead, not days. I needed a vehicle with space, a proper hauler—a box truck, cargo van, anything that could turn a single trip into weeks of resources. I slung my pack over my shoulder, checked my silenced arms, and started down the dirt road towards the city.
On the way, I passed by a farmstead that I stopped by to loot. As I stepped into the farmhouse, a strong stench assaulted my nose. Grimacing slightly, I followed the source, pausing slightly at the scene in front of me: an aged couple setting in couch, a revolver sat on the ground aside. They choose to leave on their own terms, I thought, staying silent for a bit in respect. I stored the gun in my Inventory and went room by room, looting everything. I found some canned food goods, cooking oils and spices, and bottled water. I found a shotgun tucked on top of an antique closet with a couple boxes of buck shots. All went to my Inventory.
Stepping out, I went to the barn. I froze at the sight in front of me: six horses were loitering around. I guess the couple released them before they took their lives. I closed the barn door behind me and approached them. They didn't seem to be skittish around humans. Good, thought I. I returned them inside their boxes, filling refilling their troughs and managers with enough food and water to last a couple days, long enough for me to return back to take them home. I found some farming tools. Useful, I thought as I tossed them in my Inventory. I searched around a couple more times. I found a couple dozen bags of grain inside a cellar. Looks like we don't have to worry about bread for a couple of years, at least, I thought. I stored everything and went on my way.
It wasn't until a couple of hours that the city appeared before me. The closer I got to civilization, the heavier the scent of smoke and rot. Ghost padded ahead, nose twitching, muscles tense. "Easy," I whispered, crouching behind an overturned sedan. A walker stumbled out, alone. The knife went clean straight through the temple. I wiped the knife on its sleeve and moved on.
My first target was a small motel near the main road—two stories, six rooms, still mostly intact. The smell inside was musty, mixed with old perfume and mildew. I cleared each room one by one, Ghost keeping watch at the door. Blankets, towels, soap, a couple of mattresses that looked new, sealed snacks, batteries, and lighters. In one of the rooms I stopped beside a suitcase. Inside were old clothes, some still folded. A photograph laid on top: a couple and their newborn smiling in front of this very motel. I stared at it for a moment, then set it on the nightstand before closing the suitcase. "Rest easy," I muttered, and left. Inside the back storage, I found spare blankets and mattresses, crates of soap, snacks, bottled water, and cleaning supplies. Everything went silently inside my Inventory.
Next stop was a library next to a courtroom. Front doors were shut, but a side window was left unlocked. I was greeted with rows upon rows of dust covered bookshelves, choke full of knowledge. I moved fast, scanning titles and pulling anything useful: basic, intermediate, and advance in farming, carpentry, blacksmithing, gunpowder and bullet casing, field medicine, identification of flora, even an old copy of the US Army Survival Manual, the same one used to drill new recruits decades ago. In the nonfiction section, I stoked up on all kinds of maps. Everything went into my Inventory. Before leaving, I paused in the main reading room. So much knowledge, so much humanity, just… left behind. I let out a slow breath. "We won't make the same mistakes," I said quietly.
Next was a nearby distribution center. The place was big and was crawling with walkers. I turned to Ghost. "Stay sharp." Ghost gave a short bark in return. Grabbing one of my silenced pistols, I went ahead, clearing the place. Hours went by as dozens of walkers were put down, each bullet finding its purchase in a walker's head—clean, silent, efficient.
By evening, I had cleared the place entirely. Now what's left was to loot. I went through it systematically, pallet by pallet. Everything went inside my Inventory silently: electronics and communication equipment, clothing and textiles, medical supplies, households and industrial appliances, machinery and spare parts, perishable foods. Luckily, the place still had power, otherwise everything would have gone bad by now, I thought as crates of perishable foods, beverages, meat, and produce were tossed inside my Inventory. "This is it," I thought, "this is gonna set us for years, medical wise."
It wasn't until evening that I had finished storing everything. Grabbing my walkie talkie, "This is Zephyr, Morgan, do you copy?" A brief crack of static followed by the familiar voice of Morgan. "Yeah, loud and clear, copy." His voice was tinged with relief. "You left your truck here and we thought of the worst," he said.
"I went on foot to find a bigger vehicle with more storage capacity. Look, I'm not returning for today and maybe even tomorrow," I said.
"What? Why?" Morgan said, his voice tightening a bit.
"My scavenging run isn't over yet. I still have the hospital to loot and a couple of places as well as finding a truck large enough to bring all the loot."
"Oh," he said. "Well, take care and be careful out there."
"Will do, copy and out." I stared at my walkie talkie for a bit before stashing it inside my Inventory.
I made my way to a sturdy office I found earlier. I emptied it out and made it my shelter for the night, barricading the door with a vending machine. I placed a mattress inside. I grabbed a pillow and a blanket on the mattress and a dog bed for Ghost. I laid my pack and rifle beside me as I laid on the mattress. The exhaustion of the day finally caught up with me. I rested for half an hour before I grabbed a portable stove from my Inventory and a couple of fresh beef steaks, a pan, and some butter, garlic, and spices. I started cooking my dinner. Ghost sitting by my side, tail wagging, clearly interested in some meat. I grabbed a third steak, throwing it his way. "Here, boy, have at it," I said. Ghost gave a short bark and tore into his steak with gusto. Shaking my head, I returned to my meal. The steaks were ready. Grabbing a knife and a fork from my Inventory, I ate my fill, washing it down with a chilled bottle of water. I set up my wrist watch to 5 am before I went to bed, satisfied with today's haul.
(To be continued...)