Like the dogs, they want nothing to do with him. He continues up the street, the sound of his boots a hollow echo in the midday silence. Office buildings and shops give way to homes. The homes are empty as well, those that are still intact. Many are burned out and sagging, settling slowly back into the earth.
Weeds grow everywhere, even through cracks in the concrete of the streets.
He wonders how long it has been since anyone has lived here. In some towns, there is no one. Only the cities continue to provide refuge, walled camps in which survivors have banded together in a desperate effort to keep the madness at bay. Chicago is one such city. He has been there and seen what it has to offer.