I had another dream. The camp got over run with walkers, we some people. And Jim got bit. We had to leave him behind when we moved out. One of the families decided not to go with us. There's still too damn many of us to travel quietly, and I really don't like the cops in the group.
Still haven't found my brother, but we made it to the CDC. Supposed to be help and resources there. Just a bunch of dead bodies and walkers. Seems like we're screwed six ways to Sunday. If it were a TV show, I'd expect my brother to come running out of the shadows to save the day, but I don't think it's gonna happen that way.