You begin to wander around the square in the impending twilight looking for signs of life. There isn't a soul in sight and it's eerily quiet. No birds, no squirrels, nothing. Even the pond is devoid of the ducklings that had been teeming there in your recent memory. As you make your way around the east side of the pond, you can see houses lining the other side of the street. Many of them have broken windows or tattered shingles, and some bear the hallmarks of recent fire damage. As you gaze over the streets, you notice that a fine ash has settled everywhere like snow. In various places in the streets, you can make out foot prints. You walk to the road to look closer. These footprints aren't the clean crisp prints of a normal gate, but have the ragged dragging impressions of someone shambling along as if wounded. Staring at the footprints, it strikes you that there seems to have been a great deal of foot traffic, but there are no vehicles tracks. Odd. Maybe the blast had disabled the vehicles. Most of the tracks seem to head north. You presume towards the hospital just 2 blocks north, up Dukakis Avenue. Ahead on the northeast corner of the intersection, you can see the end of the 2 story motel you've been staying at since you arrived on the island. To your rear (south) looms the hulking shadow of one of several massive warehouses, like many of the others that dot the industrial district across the south end of the island. As you stand there, on the east edge of the square, street lights begin to haphazardly click on. Some pop and fizzle with a shower of sparks, then go back out. With the setting sun, this could severely affect your visibility. You can go north or south on this street.

Head north, following the tracks.

Head south, away from the tracks.