They quickly packed up the stuff and secured it in the jeep. Helmet made the last inspection and nodded confidently that it would hold. Coat took stock of the remaining food—it was quick since there wasn’t any—and Slacks counted their remaining bullets.

“We used too many rounds in that last skirmish,” the sniper said after they had begun again on their path. The jeep sped across the grassy hills with Helmet in the driver’s seat, Slacks in the passenger, and Coat and Bandana in the back. Behind them, the giant Reaper easily matched the pace as it followed. The sniper continued, “water is low as well, and you already know how much food we have…. Still plenty of that C4 we wasted money on, though….”

“How much ammo left?” Helmet replied.

“Barely enough. We might make it through another heavy skirmish or two, but our luck would run out by a third.”

“Third time is not the charm then; let’s hope this next town has bullets.”

“If there even is a town left. We’ve come upon enough craters.”

The older man didn’t reply; he stared blankly at the grassy hills in front of them as they continued on their way.