Resources are finite. Always have been. Even in the world before this, it had practically been shoved down our throats by the people who controlled everything we thought we needed.
Now, in an apocalypse setting, it wasn't just an idea anymore.
It was law.
I'd spent hours bent over a map, eyes dragging across roads and markers, trying to find any gas station close enough to matter.
Nothing.
Not a single viable option that hadn't already been picked clean.
Then it hit me.
Painfully obvious.
Gas stations were always the first places stripped in an apocalypse.
Fucking duh, Adrian. Why the hell didn't I think of that from the start?
That realization changed everything.
It meant we were on foot now.
Me, Aubrey, and the rest of us.
Well… most of us.
We'd started hitting anything that even remotely made sense.
Municipal garages.
Snowplow depots.
Road maintenance yards.
Construction companies.
