Even with no one else driving the road wasn't exactly a safe place. Like a nervous tick Julian kept looking down at his meters. The old beater had about a half tank of gas left in her. If he kept at this speed, Julian estimated he could get a total day or two out of it. For the hundred time in as many minutes his eyes fell back to the meter, as if he was scared the gas would suddenly disappear. He held the steering wheel so fiercely he thought it might break. If he were the strongman type it probably would've. Getting to the border had proved more difficult than he had initially thought. Already he had had to change direction a few times. Having hit several roadblocks and almost driving straight into Toronto. He knew to stay clear of any big cities, but he stayed close enough to not get lost. The detour around Toronto was a long one though, and when he remembered that he'd also have to avoid Detroit he could only grumble in discontent. Though he knew it was that or be eaten.

It was daybreak before he even considered pulling over. Just about noon when he finally did. Stopping at the shoulder he looked out all the windows, to be sure no zombies were standing around. The sound of a running vehicle would draw them in pretty soon though. Carefully he got out of the car and leaving it running he quickly ran to the trunk. Popping it open he scooped up the box of supplies and deposited into the backseat. It didn't do him much good if he couldn't get to it after all. Whoever owned this car did seem to have some brains though. After removing the box, Julian returned to find a few tools that would be enormously useful: A tire iron, wrench, car-jack and a jerrycan. Pleased with his new treasure, Julian slammed the trunk door closed and went back to the drivers seat. Just in time too as he heard the groans of approaching zed. 

"Pedal to the metal," He said beneath his breath as he floored it, enjoying the crunching noise as he drove through a few of the monsters. Shortly after he went across the border, flipping of the guard booth as he went. Normally he'd be scared shitless to go to Michigan, well he still was, but for different reasons. In a vehicle the dead really want that scary, though he tried not to get too comfortable with it. Back before the dead turned deadly, Detroit would get you with or without a car. Julian went on like this for a few more hours, thinking of how before this all started he would've died for a car like this. 

That was when he saw it. A person. Not a dead one, but a living breathing person. He could tell by the way he walked. Julian it the brakes hard, and when he finally stopped half a yard away from the guy he looked over his shoulder to be sure. Definitely alive, but with the sun setting he wouldn't be much longer without help. And Julian knew that once this car broke down--and it would--that he'd be just as dead as this guy. There was a reason he stuck in a group, he had the brains to survive but not the brawn. So, he backed up until he was level with the man. He rolled down the, hovering his foot over the gas pedal in case he was wrong. 

"Hey! Need a lift?" Julian spoke just loud enough for the other guy to hear him and waited for a response.