The trickle of water had stopped when the canteen was about half full. Screwing the top on, James knew it was better than nothing. Putting it away with the rest of his stash, he moved towards the door, pausing before exiting. He couldn't see anyone around. The man made the trek to the old gas pumps, testing them to see if any still held any gasoline. Out of luck. Someone had gotten to them before he had.<br/><br/>Trudging ahead, James wondered why it was suddenly so quiet. It had been a while since he had seen anyone, and that was rare. There was usually someone out hunting for supplies, trying to fight others for what they had, or simply begging for someone to show pity. James had experience with them all.<br/><br/>Shielding his eyes, James looked to the sky. No storm clouds as far as he could see so that wasn't the reason for the silence. He suppressed a yawn, stretching his arms over his head as he walked. He would need to stop soon and sleep, even just for a little while. Returning to the tree line, James sought out a suitable place a little further from the road. Finding a suitable area, he dropped his bags on the ground and sighed. Carrying their combined weight around was starting to get to him. He took a gulp from his canteen before beginning the process of lifting the bags into the tree. It took longer than he had hoped and by the time he settled himself into the crook in the branches James was ready to pass out. Crossing his arms over his chest, the man leaned his head back against the trunk and let himself rest for the first time in too long.