The rain came down in sheets, and luckily it masked Mason's footsteps. He had his rifle in hand, backpack slung over his shoulder. The neighboring school was just up ahead now. Odds were that there were still supplies there, or even non-hostile survivors. It had been almost a week since the EMP, and people were getting desperate now; already he'd seen a kid no older than thirteen get gunned down by gang members. He got the front gate open. There were a few corpses-- most thoroughly eaten, none alive or zombified. He made his way to the front door.