"Mmm," Mike paused, thinking. His schedule changed so often it was hard sometimes to remember which day was which anymore. "Think they got me slated to head out to the Firehouse, an' then... Ugh, forget its name. The big stadium. Open roof. Real dumb place for a safehouse if you ask me, but guess they make do."
It made sense, being that stadiums held a lot of people and what not. Mike didn't much like the idea of rain and snow and infected birds coming down on your head all the time, though.
"Jus' runnin' supplies, too, so nothin' all that bad. Usually I'm alone, but I don't mind me some company." He liked showing people the various shortcuts he'd discovered, or safe rooms in quieter parts of town, or little caches of flashlights or weapons that had been accumulating along the longer running routes. The Immune didn't always get along, and truth be told the whole situation was wired to short circuit now and again, but generally there was that handful -- Mike included -- that liked helping eachother and trying to make things a little bit easier. You never knew when you'd get caught out after dark, or trapped for hours by large herds of dead shambling by.