I'm in trouble. Fred hasn't been doing too well. With the lack of food it seems he's starting to rot more and today he finally snapped. Or rather, his knees did. Of course the resulting stumbling fall didn't stop him, as such, but he lost almost all his speed (not that it was impressive) and maneuverability. It could take years before I'm lucky enough to be picked up again.
On a lighter note, we saw a car. You have to appreciate this for it's rarity. It appeared to be a small truck, but it was quite far away so I wasn't sure. There are not that many cars left, a few old ones that didn't have much electronics, survived the EMP blast and continued to work for as long as there was gasoline. Of course, that was a problem. Oil refineries don't have it that easy either.
Regardless, it seems my time has come. No, not that dramatically. It just means that it will be a very boring time for me in the future. Fred's speed is already horrendous and slowing down as we speak. Well, I write and Fred groans. I wonder if zombies can feel depressed. Must be such a dreary life to live, falling apart. Existing both at the top and the bottom-end of the food-chain. Sad, really.
We'll have to wait and see then.