Post by Frank Moore on Feb 25, 2017 20:29:19 GMT -5
Missouri. Frank had never been. He'd never been a lot of places before all of this started. It was easy to travel when it didn't cost anything but gas. And he'd been lucky, finding a gas station just outside the border in Kansas that hadn't been bone dry. He'd been able to top off his tank, as well as the load of cans in the back of the Jeep. And he'd only seen one dead one. And it hadn't even gotten up from it's place on the ground. He wasn't surprised. The cold was hell on organic tissue. He wouldn't be surprised if, come spring, they'd all be gone and humanity would reclaim the earth. Although, it was still the end of them. They didn't have nearly the population size to expand. But living out the rest of your life in peace wouldn't be too bad.
Tearing a piece of jerky off the chunk in his hand with his teeth, he chewed it as he continued to drive down the highway. He wished it didn't have to be so salty. But, that had been the only way he'd been able to preserve the meat up in the mountains. His meager solar supplies had been enough to charge some batteries and not much else.
Tossing the meat back in the bag he'd kept it in, he reached for the pack of cigarettes in his admin pouch. He was a doctor, for fucks sake. But, hell with it. He was going to die in a more unpleasant way sometime soon. And he'd found cartons of the things in that gas station. He'd have to make a note of it when he came back this way. It was mostly untouched. The benefits of being in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere, Kansas.
Rolling down his window to blow out a mouthful of smoke, he took a look around at his surroundings. He had a choice to make. Go north, the next city being Rock Port, whom he'd never even heard of. Or, keep going east and head to the larger cities.
It didn't take long to think over. Big cities were usually picked clean. And even though they may be slightly safer in the winter, he still needed to pad out his supplies before he went there. So Rock Port it was.
"Well... This is not what I expected," he muttered, looking through a pair of binos at the walled off community. He could even see someone in a guard tower. He didn't think they had spotted him yet. He was a ways off, and behind a tree line. He went through the pros and cons of the situation in his head, but not very seriously. He was already getting the camo netting out of the back of the truck, already stripping his plate carrier and rifle off and setting them inside the car. He locked it all up, covered it with netting, and set off toward the wall. He had to know if there were people, and if they were friendly. He'd never live it down if he ignored all these signs.
Armed with only his handgun and his knives, bundled up in his CU, he slowly walked toward the gate, listening for a 'halt who goes there' from the guard who had to have seen him by now. Keeping his hands neutral and near his front, well away from his gun, he came to a stop around 50 feet away from the gate and stood there.
Time to see if the welcoming party was a person, or a bullet...