Try the cabins

Status: Uninfected

Your Equipment: Battered sandals, Ragged Bra, Ragged Panties, Ragged tank-top, Ragged shorts, Hunting Knife

Your Inventory: Canned food (4), Bottled Water (11), Flashlight, Batteries (2), Duct Tape (3'), Twine (30'), Blanket, Tattered Sundresses (2), Ragged Panties (3), Cabin Keys

You step out the door, quietly locking it behind you, and turn towards the nearest cabin you haven't investigated yet. It's about six miles to it, and you figure it will take about two hours to get there. You figure it's about 8 AM, and you should have enough time to at least two cabins before the day is done. While there's less likelihood of supplies at them, you figure it's a safer bet than trying the trek to the city, as there should be less Infected roaming the wilderness than the city or lodge.

You set off, quietly relishing the slight chill in the air as you go. The sounds of the forest assail you, birds chirping and branches rustling on the cool breeze. As tempted as you are to just relax, enjoy the day, and forget about how fucked the world is, you keep your senses peeled for anything out of the ordinary. All you have to go on right now is the little bit of information you gleaned from the radio about the Infected, and you don't want your first encounter with one to be your last. And so you go, nervous and not a little afraid, into the great unknown.

It ends up taking you more time than you thought to get to the first cabin. Your nerves are on edge, and every time a branch snapped or a bush rustled, you had frozen, watching and waiting, praying it was something other than an Infected. Every time, you had found your fears were needless, as nothing had leapt from the bushes to attack. The terrain itself had hindered you more than you thought it would, too, thick brush and dense thickets snaring you, forcing you to backtrack and find another route. You bear a couple of scratches, and a few new tears in your tank-top and shorts, but you're intact, and that's what matters. The sun is high in the sky by now, the morning chill having given way to the slight warmth of another fall day.

You pause in the brushline just shy of the cabin, watching and listening for any signs of life, and drink a bottle of water. The door has been knocked from its' hinges, and from what you can see, the interior of the cabin is an absolute mess. After about a half an hour, you're confident there's nothing living here, and you set out across the small clearing to the cabin. As you step through the door, you find the interior of the cabin has been thoroughly ransacked. You spend an hour digging through the mess, looking for anything of use, but come up empty-handed. The place had been thoroughly looted before you arrived. That means there's another survivor out here somewhere. You'll have to be careful.

Stepping outside again, you note the sun falling from its' zenith. The next cabin is only a few miles distant, though upslope a bit, and you figure you can make it there before it gets too late. With nothing to lose, you set out again, ever mindful of your surroundings.

After a few more tense hours, and a few more snags, you find yourself crouching in a different row of bushes, looking at a cabin that appears to have been fortified somewhat. You can see several of what you presume to be dead Infected lying in the clearing around the open front door, though this one doesn't look like it was **** open. The bodies all have holes in them, what look like gunshot wounds to your inexperienced eye, and have been dead for some time, it seems. The open door doesn't bode well for there being a survivor here, but you never know.