He leaves for one week and the whole damn place is overrun.
The vehicles surrounding the place aren’t ones he recognizes and the sheer number of them tells him there’s no way the others at the base had collected these themselves. New people were a risk and it made him uncomfortable at the fact he wasn’t there to see these new faces arrive. A stupid thought. It’s not his job to look after these people, they’re not his responsibility. He’d already learned he couldn’t be trusted with anyone else’s survival.
He tucks his map and red pen away carefully into a zip pocket. Usually, he’d make the walk back in half-distracted, checking off the homes he’d finished ransacking, triple-checking that he hadn’t missed any or gotten his bearings wrong. He’s never wrong but it did no harm to check.
Instead, he’s throwing the duffle bag onto his shoulder giving himself two free hands. Kane walks through the parked vehicles, checking the windows for any movement. All he finds are empty vehicles.
The base looks fine. He didn’t hear anything on his trek back over to suggest some sort of fight went on. Still, he’s annoyed, wondering how far the supplies he’d stuffed into this bag could go with the number of people growing. The one ‘perk’ of the end of the world was the lack of crowds.
Kane yanks at the scarf tied tightly around his face. Then he drops his hood back so whoever’s on patrol should recognize him. The cold hits him a new burst of vigor, biting at his nose and ears. He looks up towards the usual spot for anyone currently on patrol, expecting to go through the usual quick nod. Maybe some forced pleasantries. A new figure stands there. Kane freezes on the spot. It can’t be.