the begining of the end- date unknown.

We’ve lost contact with Freetown.
It has been over a week since we sent out our second runner, and two before that.
The straws are getting shorter, and the idea of them sending another one of us out there is soon to become a reality. 
They’re consumed with a thirst for answers.
I can see their cracked tongues longing to feel the relief of reason.
I can see it in their eyes, the defeat looming behind a curtain of thin hopes. 
It’s the delusions that will soon come in its wake which worry me.  Alison and I know we’re going to have to leave soon, and already we’re starting to think about what we're going to need to steal.  After all, they won't be needing much.  It won’t be long until they tear it all down like the rest.  Like all the others before them, they’re breaking under the weight of all this.  It doesn’t seem to matter how high we build our walls or how good we are at hiding, the meaning of this becomes a prison and it follows us wherever we go, wherever we find shelter. 
I’m not sure what makes her and I so different.  I suppose to us it’s just obvious.  The longer we stick around, the scarier it is going to get around here.  If there is one thing we’re starting to learn, it’s that as scary as the corpses are, they could never outmatch the blackness that can live in a mans heart.  Passion is powerful, even in these times.  If you let a mans passion get behind something terrible, there is little that can stop it.  Some fights aren’t worth it, and if you’re smart enough to tell the difference, chances are you’ll live longer than most.  You could ask the people in Freetown, but I’m sure they’re all dead.