[Warning: Sexual Assault, Murder, Gore]
After a few hours of walking, we thankfully stumbled upon a fairly clean-looking car. Blood was spattered on the bonnet, though there was no sign of whoever, or whatever had been hit.
Tire marks on the road leading up to where the car stopped showed that whoever had been behind the wheel had at least been trying not to hit it. A pool of dried-up blood a few meters away made me think that the poor bugger would have been better off having sped up and just kept driving.
Victoria showed off her valuable skills, hotwiring the car and beckoning us to join her inside.
By the time the winter sun was starting to set, we had only managed a few miles. We were all exhausted, hungry, and worn out. Seeing a sign for a picnic spot ahead Victoria took a detour, eventually winding up at a small carpark by a scenic river. There were no signs of other cars or people, alive or dead.
