Risk searching the sheriff station.

Deciding that it's worth the danger to check out your dad's old workplace, you tell Todd that the first stop is in town. He shrugs, unsure quite what you have in mind, but willing enough to follow your lead. You stash the packs in a lockable cupboard inside the house - it's fairly close by, so no need risk carrying the extra weight while undertaking this particularly dangerous part of the journey.

You lock the house doors and windows, hoping it won't be long before you return, and sling the shotgun over your shoulder, before looking up and down the street and setting off with determination towards the sheriff's department.

***

The eerie quiet of town has you on edge. This is only your second time venturing out of the house, and it's still completely alien to you for the streets to be so deserted. Todd at least seems a little more used to it, and you take comfort in the fact that you're now far more prepared than he ever was when he'd set out yesterday when you met him at the supermarket.

The trip is uneventful - the six blocks between your home and the station show no signs of life at all. You stayed off the sidewalks and tried to slip between the yards and houses, keeping a low profile in case anybody was watching. Occasionally you would pass a gruesome scene, witnessed through a window, of decaying remains - either late casualties of the virus, or unfortunate survivors having met their end at their own hands, unable to face the new world, or at the hands of other **** people.

Signs of looting are around, but not everywhere. This fits with your experience, as even though you were prepared to defend your home during your months of isolation there, you never had a whiff of trouble. Either the looting has been mostly constrained so far to easy targets like shops and malls, or there really is just almost nobody left. It makes you wonder if many of the houses hide caches of valuable stuff, but you reason that the pickings will likely be slim for a lot of effort, and there's plenty more homes between you and your eventual destination which you can look through as you travel.

The only living creatures that you've seen are lots of birds, and the occasional cat prowling about. You wonder what's happened to people's dogs - whether they managed to break loose and form packs, or if they mostly just stayed with their dead humans until they wasted away themselves. The latter thought is heartbreaking, but would lead to a much safer outlook for you and Todd while navigating the remains of civilization.

Now, across the street from the sheriff's department, you hunker down together and settle in to watch it for a while. In two hours, you see no movement of any kind. You hear nothing in the town around you. The clear day is bright but cold, with a brisk wind coming in from the northeast, and the only sound you hear for those two hours is the rustling of trees and the occasional squawk of a bird.