“How many?” Charlie asked, looking around again.

“If I had to guess, I’d say they were travelling alone. I don’t see any signs of another person, although I could be wrong. I have been before,” I said, anticipating Charlie’s response.

I wasn’t disappointed. “Really? You? No, really?” Charlie snorted, shifting his rifle and raising his eyebrows to the point where they threatened his hairline.

“Anyway, where are they now? I would have seen someone on the road and you’ve been here all morning. Chances are they heard me shoot the runner, so they’re probably hiding out right now,” I said, looking around.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Charlie said. “You shot that Z on the road and we went a mile and a half into the woods to get here. If they are down in the canyon area, chances are pretty good they didn’t hear much. If they’re by a waterfall or fast creek, then they might not have heard anything at all.”

“Okay, so we have two options. Wait for them to return, or go looking for them,” I said.

Charlie shrugged. “I say we go find them. If we’re here when they return, things might get weird. If we go to them, at least we can announce we’re friendly.”

“True. All right, lead the way, Bwana,” I said, moving back outside and checking the area for any Z activity.

Charlie stepped out and went past the visitor center. I noted the doors had been broken into and there looked to be things strewn about a bit. I didn’t see any blood so I figured someone was just looking for anything of use or value. These days, money was worthless except for lighting fires, and we had developed a decent system of trade. Canned goods were always useful and so was ammo. Tools were good trade items and quality knives were always in demand. Funny thing, how-to books were very valuable as well. Toilet paper was gold.

We went past the center and walked down a dirt path to a small wooden walkway that took us along the edge of the canyon.