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John took careful aim at the zombies milling around below him. Business-like, he dropped the Zombies in quick order, until only a few bumbled around at the outer perimeter of his kill zone. He took a sharp look around, scanning for more zombies. He saw human shapes dragging themselves out the scraggly forest a hundred feet behind him and decided it was time to go, or he'd be killing stragglers until he died of thirst. He hurled the MREs and boxed ammo into the bed of the truck, made a special trip for the water, then slid into the front seat and started to drive off, making a rich melon-busting noise as he ran over zombies as if they were speed bumps. He made it to the road and turned back for home. After he got there he'd outfit himself for a longer trip. He was going east, to look for survivors. He figured that nobody would have gone to Kansas, even to escape the zombies.