He jogged his normal route and ended up near the neighbor’s farm. He wondered often if they should’ve moved over there. With so many people to look after now, they needed more than they had or could manage without amassing a large chunk of land, but he knew nothing about those people. They could have relatives who would show up there someday. Then they’d lose what little they did have.

So many had already lost so much; family, friends, their careers, their homes. He saw it every time he went back to the towns or the cities for supplies. Lots of people were homeless, forced into walking caravans trying to get to a safe place, trying to get to one of the military bases. He never wanted any of them to be in this position. He didn’t want them out on the streets, having lost their home, their safe haven, their last thread of sanity.

And on he jogged, still considering that farm as a possibility if they were ever overrun by the crawlers, who were encroaching closer and closer every night.