The pinging of distant gunfire pulled me out of the first real sleep I’d had in days. Funny how noise carries when there’s just less of it. Sounded like it was coming from the direction of Stanford’s fuel stash.

That booming explosion and billowing black smoke certified it. Don’t know who or why, just that I needed to get on with it. I left the car in the old barn that provided me cover for the night, and headed out to see where the power lines took me. I followed the snake trail of dried dirt the lines were buried under for another mile, before I started hearing a myriad of gunfire up ahead. I climbed a low tree, trying to catch a glimpse of anything, and there it was.

Andersonville. Shit. Not the type to actually run into a firefight, but if it was all going down now, I better get to Pam quick.

Hopefully she’ll hear me out before she starts shootin’.