We slept til 5:40 before we awakened and headed out on the road. It was chilly for still being August, but I chalked it up to a different area of the United States. We passed through Iowa and South Dakota by the second day. On the third which happen to be a Saturday we stopped at another small town except this time we had access to a regional hospital and depot for oxygen tanks. The town was named Allen, Montana. It was sparse with hills of pine. Green flourished on the land like that of green paint on a canvas. It was beautiful beyond compare especially coming from a city boy.

"Remember when we took that trip to Colorado way back in 09?"

"I do. That was the only decent family vacation we ever went on. One where mom and dad weren't arguing about staying in a hotel or a tent." Christin replied.

"We went on that path down by one of the rivers in the mountains. God, it must've been 3 or 4 miles. A lot of terrain and climbing. The funny thing is even mom and dad didn't expect for it to go on that long."

"At one point I think they genuinely thought we were lost."

"I wouldn't have been surprised. You know we were in trouble when mom began rationing food."

Christin started laughing. It was good to hear her laugh again. As I looked out to the mountains that were in the background I felt at peace for just a moment.

Silence staggered the town of Allen very much like the ones we had passed through in the last couple of days. At one point in the road trip our radio picked up a broadcast. It was faint and filled with static. It died off more than a mile down the road. There was no doubt that there were some survivors out there. Me and Christin believed that those who survived were patients in urgent care, the elderly or people that were luckily in range of a oxygen tank. Christin also believed that it was a pathogen that was possibly tainted with the oxygen we breathed in. What didn't make sense was how the oxygen tank was keeping out the pathogen. If it was air born, than we would've been affected by now. It was also strange that it had such a immediate affect. Often times poisons kill a victim in a span of 30 minuets to an hour. Infections can put people in shock or in critical care, but even then they have symptoms leading up to the point of death. Whatever it was it had a tremendous lethality rate and wide infection zone. If Crenshaw knew about this then we needed to find him. Besides why else would he leave a letter with coordinates.

We scouted out a motel to sleep in for the night, but before that we had to go look for supplies in the regional hospital. This time without the risk of a fire.

Christin pulled the car into the parking lot and from there we walked to the entrance of the Regional medical center. The lobby was far smaller compared to that of Burlington's. Me and Christin decided to split up and cover different floors. We weren't pressed for time on oxygen however we needed to find any oxygen tanks as soon as possible as to avoid a possible scare. Christin took the second and third floor while I took the fourth and fifth. We agreed to meet back in 30 minutes.

Something to note while surviving in apocalyptic America. Power and emergency generators do not run as long as you think. After the loss of "clean" oxygen the clock was ticking before power around the country would start to shut down. Hospitals usually use an insane amount of electricity due to the nature of their services. The ER along with critical care support patients around the clock. This facility we happen to run across was experiencing a black out due to the power grid failing. Why am I saying this? Because in our haste to find supplies for our survival we didn't give much attention to the hazards of a hospital with little power.

It wasn't long before I found a closet full of oxygen tanks on the fourth level. I was able to load them on a bed and move them towards the elevator. The lights began to flicker above me. I paid no attention it until the power went off and the hallway was darkened. The emergency generator flipped on and the dark was washed away with red lights. They weren't entirely bright but they were enough for me to see where the elevator was.

"For once I actually want to be in a hospital that works," I thought to myself.A door was opened down the hallway. I started to approach it thinking it was Christin. But just as I was about to reveal myself I saw the silhouette of a gun in the figures hands. I panicked and hid behind the help desk. It sounded like two men whispering to one another. I peaked around the corner. They were walking right towards me. The lights attached to their rifles was bright. I got up and moved towards a empty room. I knocked a pen off the desk and alerted one of the men.

"Who's there?!" One of them yelled. I made my way into a patient room and closed the door. I peered through the window in the door and saw the two figures flash their lights by the desk. They moved towards my room. I backed up into the corner of the room. The light flashed through the window. I slowly unwrapped my oxygen tank off my back and held it as a battering ram. The door knob creaked and the door was slowly opened. The barrel of the rifle popped through the open door first while the man holding it followed. My eyes adjusted enough to see the man. He too was a wearing a oxygen tank but it was adjusted on a heavy hiking backpack. I breathed in and out. The figure turned back towards me not knowing of my presence. Just as he saw me I rammed the tank into his chest. The man grunted loudly before crashing to the ground. As he laid there he struggled to breath. The amount of force I put behind the tank was probably enough to knock the window out of him. I could hear his friend running down the hallway towards him. I grabbed the rifle on the ground and pointed it at the door. The other man popped into the door frame and aimed his weapon at me.

"Drop it!" He yelled.

"Who the hell are you?"

The man looked to his struggling friend. "What the hell did you do him?" He yelled. "Who are you?!" I replied.

"Kid put the gun down and I'll explain."

I winced at his small movements. He slowly put his gun down. I thought for a moment that things might be ok and that we could talk. The man on the ground grabbed at my leg which prompted me to pull the trigger on the rifle. My hear drums went deaf. My eyes stared into the man standing in front of me. Shock, fear, sadness were all dilated in his pupils. He looked down. Blood started to soak through his blue fleece. He proceeded to look back up at me. I watched as the man held his wound and slowly feel to the ground.