[@Love Me Dead]

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After successfully getting out of Miami together with his precious black 1970 Chevelle SS, Patrick has been on the road ever since. Sleeping in his car, scavenging from dead people or gas stations and ocassionally finding comfort in drawing. That's how his life could be resumed ever since this whole catastrophe started. He met a couple of alive people that begged for his help or for a ride with him but he preffered not to take that chance and stay alone. He thought it was better that way. It was just he with himself and without anyone to slow him down or get in his way. He was now in the state of Delaware somewhere in the North, in a small town called Bear, with a population of only 17 000 and a half people. 

Patrick decided to leave his car somewhere safe outside of town, as he went in for some scavenging. That was three hours ago. He was now in a nice little neibourghood with houses lined on each side of the street. Unfortunately for him there were walkers on the main street and in some of the houses too. He didn't find nothing of use yet as he tried to enter four houses already but all had walkers in them so he decided not to take the chance. With his right hand having a firm grip on his kukri, Patrick was walking around as stealthily as he could from the back of a house to another trying to find some place with no walkers in it. 

He finally found a house that seemed promising as he looked inside from window to window. There were some walkers out in the front but all in all the place was okay. As he checked the windows, they all seemed locked, with the exception of the one from the kitchen. Patrick slowly and carefully opened it as he climbed inside without making a sound. Closing the window behind him, Patrick heads straight to the fridge as he opens it with a look of pleasure on his face. Food, finally some food. After days of eating mushrooms and hunting wild animals, Patrick finally found some food as he grabs an orange and sinks his teeth in it without even bothering to peel the skin off. As he sit on a stool, eating the orange, Patrick heard the sound of a child coming from outside, it seemed like a little girl. After hearing the phrase "I'm sorry!", Patrick pulled out his revolver aiming it forward and with slow steps getting out of the kitchen, heading to where the voice came.