After walking for what felt like miles and finding several infested houses, I managed to find a house that looked biter-free. I tried the front door but it had been blocked from the inside and I couldn't open it wide enough to get through, so I wriggled my way through a window around the back. I landed on my arm as I fell through, which still didn't feel right from the cold that had hit me last night, but I managed to get up and venture round the place in hope for some food.
The kitchen smelt awful and looked like it hadn't been cleaned since it had been fitted. There were pizza boxes and chinese-food cartons piled high on one side, and cans of beer cluttered over the other. The sink was full of dirty dishes and cutlery and the dishwasher was the same. I sighed as I realised that there probably wasn't anything here other than trash, but was pleasantly suprised when I opened a cupboard and found a tin of beans and another of spaghetti. I put the beans in my clothes bag and raided the drawers for a tin-opener, without any luck. I could hear my stomach rumbling as I tried desperately to get into the can, and I was getting so angry I threw it across the room. Then I heard something crash upstairs.
"Shit," I breathed. "Forget eating, you're about to get eaten."