"Fuck that." Jack said, staring out the window blankly, responding to Aldo speaking about sleeping in a truck. "Lets go. There's bound to be a farmhouse around here somewhere."
His voice didn't carry any weight or volume at his almost gray face stared off into the darkening night. Randy scooped up the map off of the hood and folded it up, handing it to Jack through the window. The two didn't make eye contact, seemingly still holding their conflict close to the chest. Once everyone was safely inside the truck, Jack fired it up and threw it into gear, slowly moving off into the east. As they passed by the car laying in the ditch, Jack slowed down to peer into it and see if there was anything of use. It was empty, except for a man who clearly had given up on living. If he could feel anything right now, he might have been disgusted or sad, but Jack just looked back to the road and continued.
Jack rubbed his eyes as he drove, the night coming about faster than he had hoped. Before too long they had pulled up alongside a small cottage nestled behind a silo and some cornfields. There were no cars around and no signs of anyone still being here. Jack shut off the truck as he pulled it up to the small house. It looked to be a few rooms, but it was only one story. He opened the door to the car and looked around, climbing out and pulling the hatchet from his belt. He was exhausted, almost too tired to think about being scared. Almost.
Slowly walking up to the door he looked around and nodded everyone to join him. Randy was the last out of the car.
"I'll check 'round the back. Gotta take a leak anyway." Randy said, walking around the side of the building, still holding the last empty bottle of whiskey he had from the cooler in the truck.
Jack nodded calmly an reached over to grab the handle of the door. As he did so, his hands started to shake again.
Damn it, Jack. Stop being such a God damned pussy. He thought, getting angry with himself as the words that Randy so eloquently used shot through his mind again. He released the handle and knocked. Nothing. He knocked again. Nothing. Grasping the handle, he turned it and heard the latch pop loose. Tensely, he pulled open the door.
"Hey... Anyone home? We're not tryin' to hurt anyone. Just looking for a place to stay for the night..." He said. No response.
Looking behind him, he checked to see if Aldo still had his pipe, and to make sure Harper was behind him since she didn't have a weapon. Walking tensely into the small cottage, he could see it had been thoroughly tossed. Whomever had lived here either left in a hurry, or... He didn't want to think about the or. Clasping the hatchet tightly, Jack took a deep breath and walked through the open hallway into the kitchen...