Sweating, feet aching, back of the neck burning for the lack of sunscreen, slapping at insects that have bitten and gone, pressing on. The compass app on the phone still points, but the map waits in vain for data from long-gone positioning satellites.
The city I fled — first in a car and then in a stranger's truck and then on foot — is a bubbling mess turning into something horrible and alien. There are other people heading into the hills and woods, masses of people, huge crowds of them, but I'm avoiding them for fear that in their numbers they make a target.
It probably won't make any difference.