A burgundy Raptor pickup sat in the garage, its body coated in dust. It was hard to say how long it had been since anyone had washed it.
But at six meters long and two meters wide and tall, with thirty-five-inch tires, its imposing frame still gave the truck a wild, rugged feel.
And with its obvious modifications—the metal bars welded onto the front and the wire mesh over the windows—it looked even more like something from a wasteland.
"It does guzzle gas, though. Still, for now, we're not short on fuel..."
Jack sighed softly as he examined the truck.
The virus had broken out so suddenly, and so many people had died while so few had survived. Even though seven months had passed, gasoline was still easy to find all over the city.
Gas left sitting around too long could "go bad," but that would only risk damaging the engine. In the apocalypse, no one was going to be picky about that.
Their homemade Molotov cocktails had always been an effective weapon.
"Let's find some food first. We've already searched most of the places nearby, and the other survivors have probably done the same. These days, places where we can find food usually come with some kind of challenge."
Food was Jack's first priority. In truth, Tao Yu felt the same way.
During one brief clash last night, he'd used up four Qi Replenishing Pills before he'd recovered. Food had to come first.
"We don't have to worry about the hassle of hauling things, so finding supplies should be easier."
Before, Jack had needed to bring people along to carry supplies. The more people there were, the harder it became to stay quiet and keep everything organized.
Now there were only two of them. Once their backpacks were full,