[b][color=007236]Hunter Monroe, United State's National Guard[/color][/b]

Hunter clenched his rifle, all he had been doing for days is walking, he had a truck with a decent amount of useful gear in it, though like always it either breaks down, runs out of fuel or the roads are too impassible to use it. That was truck number 5 for him since he started walking. He clenched his M4 in his hands, the thing was accurate, but a pain int eh ass to maintain with out the parts. He was making due though. And he knew the parts and the recipe for butting together bullet casings, though he lacked the materials to do it other then makeshift. Which meant he was limited to shotgun shells, which he was fine with for now, though once his rifle ran out of ammo he was going to be in a risky situation that a double barrel won't be able to get him out of.

Hunter came across a small neighborhood, many of the houses looked like they had been looted over a few times by now, but Hunter wasn't in a horrible state of supplies. Though he could use more in terms of medical and food, he was a poor hunter and his medical training was minimal. He thought it kinda funny, his name Hunter, but he can't hunt for shot other then what's right in front of him. 

He was ready to get into one of the buildings when he heard moaning, A shotgun was safer to kill the dead with, though loud as hell. He grabbed his hatchet and worked his way inside the building, the moaning was coming from outside so he figured he was safe for now. He held the hatchet in one hand and a flashlight made out of scrap parts in the other hand. Most his makeshift things had a very short shelf life, but it was easier to make things then to find them.