I didn't think I'd say the same thing in my head over and over again in regards to everyone else back home and my bed—and even though I have several beds I own in other places, they couldn't even come close to the one I'm very familiar with. It's like the off feeling when you poop in someone else's toilet or I could be just a crazy fellow living in my world.
With that said, as we continued to drive onto the same path we took, comparing it to the days we were here last time, it seemed like a portion of the dead respawned in a sense.
'This rest stop's still having customers, eh?'
It wasn't like we didn't make a lot of noise when we were here last time but it was bad news for their new customers because they were served lead projectiles, cold steel, or straight-up blunt-force trauma.