Isaak cleared his throat.

It had been a long week. He and his friend, Robert, had, throughout the year, constantly moved through the country in search of somewhere safe. After some months that task seemed impossible, so they instead set their focus on surviving for as long as possible. Robert was killed five days ago. They were crossing through Indiana, on their way to Chicago, which, if rumours were true, was safer than anywhere else in the country. They just so happened to cross through territory owned by a group of bandits. At the time they had a good amount of supplies - a few guns, plenty of ammo and enough food and water to last a couple weeks, if rationed. Of course, any bandit in their right mind would kill for that, and kill they did. But two shots in the back of Robert's head and one in Isaak's shoulder. With his friend dead, all Isaak could do was run, leaving his supplies behind with only the clothes on his back and one gun concealed within his clothing.

So here he was, slowly hobbling down a highway leading to Chicago, his shirt's arm torn and wrapped around his shoulder as a makeshift bandage - it looked like it would be alright, but he needed some time to sit down and clear it up or else it could get infected. Dry blood covered his neck and his eyes were red due to a distinct lack of sleep over the last few days - he didn't know when he last slept, time was no longer relevant to him. He was hungry, too. Very hungry. He'd managed to find some water along the way, but he'd barely eaten anything but a few morsels all week. In front of him, along the road, hundreds of abandoned cars laid dormant. Needing a rest and hoping to find some sort of nourishment inside, however unlikely, Isaak climbed inside one of the cars and just sat for a while, working hard to keep his eyes open.

Only a few minutes passed and already he was hearing eerie groans from the distance. He sighed and nodded, muttering a curse word to himself and leaving the car. The road was so clustered that he couldn't see anyone or anything that was in his way. He pulled himself up on top of the car and stood on it's roof, taking his gun out and loading it as he did so. Peering forward, he could make out several Walkers trudging his way.