There are just so many. No matter where you go, how far you walk, there are always more to catch your scent and come for you. But you can’t stop: you stop, you’re surrounded. They’ll come and you from all directions and there’ll be no escape. So you’d better have concrete or guns or both in abundance.
I’ve got neither, so I keep walking. I’ve gone clear across Iowa, cut through Nebraska and into Kansas. There are people building new towns here and there, with walls or on stilts. They always have such high hopes.
I’ll stick to the road.
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