I crawl out of my little shelter that was a hole dug under a rock supported by two wooden planks, that had little aluminium pots and pans with grimy food packets of spam, cereal, sausage, and a bunch of bacon. I also had about two bottles of water I found from the store and some flint with kindling. I cough and then kick the planks down, making the boulder fall, which in turn made a giant dust cloud. Perfect hiding of my shelter? Definitely not. Good enough? I guess. I cough a bit as I wave to clear the dust and look down the road. There was rubble, and a shack of a guy who I made friends with. His shelter included all kinds of indecent magazines, old newspapers, and a dysfunctional fridge that he kept his guns in. He was one of the few humans left, from my assumptions. I think he also had a chair, too. Nice place to rest, that's for sure.

I walk down the street to hear some gunfire, somewhat near my current location. "Probably just that old coot shooting some sort of cricket..." I mutter as I spit an icy cold liquid onto a spider, which pretty much froze it. I smirk. First time I've done that. I walk down to his shack and knock our special knock. One... two... three... "Cletus!" I say. One knock, two, three knocks, "Cletus!" until he opened the door. His bulging eye caught me off guard for the umptillionth time, his skin looking particularly saggier than normal and his giant mustache poking out from the top of his lip, the greyness, the curliness, and the occasional hair that didn't quite stick up, along with his scraggly stubble, and the soul patch, which he dyed purple just because. "Oh, hey there," Cletus says, inviting me in to sit down on his chair. I remove a dead rat with a hole so big that it was pretty much a head and a tail with some skeleton and occasional guts and strings of skin that was laying on the chair. I sit, and he offers me some fried up flies and tarantulas. I push the dish away, and he gobbles them down quicker than you could say "Mosquito Lunch." I look at him, and we talk for a bit before I hear more gunshots. "I'll just... uh... check whatever that was. I though it was you at first, to be honest, heh..." I say awkwardly.

As I leave, I head towards wherever I thought the shots came from, cautiously. I didn't want a bullet in the neck. I walk on the broken asphalt and climb over a downed telephone pole. I shift my colors to look like that of whatever was behind me and in front of me, sort of giving me a see-through look. I see some dead Vehemondogs. I walk around them, looking for the culprit of the gunshots. I eventually give up my see-through shenanigans, since it didn't work with my hoodie or my pants, and I wouldn't dare go naked just to spy on someone. Eugh. I cough into my sleeve, since more dust was blowing through, and I wait to hear another gun shot.