"Hey Google, how far are we from where the radio signal was transmitted from?"

"According to my calculations, we will arrive at where the signal emanated from in approximately two days and seventeen hours on foot."

"That's too far, Jack could be dead or worse by then!" Mark huffed in exasperation, walking faster until Doctor Iplier stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You're human, you still need rest. When was the last time you had eaten anyway? Or had anything to drink?" Doctor Iplier questioned sternly, Mark shaking his head as he pulled away from the doctor's touch. "I'm fine, I had food and coffee this morning at breakfast."

"That was hours ago! Besides, if you won't rest for yourself, at least let us rest. I know that Google isn't tired, but the rest of us are." Doctor Iplier pressed, glancing back at the rest of the group. "I can't risk having any of them getting sick out here with zombies around."

"Fine, what do we do then?" Mark snapped impatiently, the American doctor flinching slightly at his tone.

"What's going on?" Jim interjected worriedly, his mic hanging loosely at his side as he glanced between Mark and Doctor Iplier. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong." Doctor Iplier assured Jim as Mark opened his mouth to speak, the look in his eyes causing the words to die in Mark's mouth.

"Wait," Mark strode over to Google as an idea came to mind, the ego currently standing in silence next to the Host. "Hey Google, can you hot wire a car for us?"

"Searching images for potato care in US." Google replied cooly, Mark rolling his eyes as images of potatoes with American flags popped up around him. "No, how to hot wire a car."

Google smiled innocently before an article of how to hot wire a car appeared in front of him, the ego already striding towards a nearby red truck that would hold the group.

"Mark, didn't you pack food in that thing?" Wilford chimed in hopefully, gesturing at the duffel Mark had almost forgotten he was carrying.

"Yeah, here." Mark grunted, dropping the duffel onto the ground before retrieving a protein bar along with a water and tossing it at the male. "Bon appetit."

Wilford eyed the bar warily before taking a bite of it, washing it down with a mouthful of water while Mark distributed food to the others.

"Damnit, I'm already low on supplies." Mark cursed through a mouthful of protein bar as he roughly slung his duffel over his shoulder.

"Got it!"

Mark looked over to see Google sitting in the truck with the driver side window smashed out, his expression proud as the car's engine rumbled quietly.

"Oh boy, I call shot gun!" Wilford cheered, sprinting to the vehicle before scrambling into the passenger seat and reaching for the steering wheel. "Can I drive?"

Google immediately slapped his hand away as he buckled up, the others gathering into the back while Wilford pouted childishly in the front.

"The Host would feel more comfortable in the back away from the others." The Host muttered as he squeezed into the middle seat, Doctor Iplier and Mark sitting on either side of him.

"Too late!" Dark crowed victoriously from the back of the car, the demon sitting in the bed of the truck with the Jim twins filming their surroundings.

"The Host wishes to punch Dark hard in the face for being a dick." The Host growled sourly under his breath, Mark smirking in amusement as Google starred to drive the car.

"I can track the radio frequency we heard before through here, I might be able to pick it up again since we're closer to the source, although the strength of this radio is weaker." Google remarked as he fiddled with the knob while driving, words breaking through the static after a brief moment. "Almost...got it!"

"H-hello? Is anyone there?" Jack stammered, his voice quiet and crackly through the radio even as Mark turned up the volume all the way.

"Can you transmit a signal to him?" Mark questioned hopefully, Google grimly shaking his head. "I don't have a radio to talk to him through."

"Damnit, it isn't working!" Jack shouted in defeat, his voice hoarse as if he had been screaming or crying for a long time.

Probably both.

"I need-"

"Damnit." Google hissed as static covered the rest of Irishman's words, Mark thoughtfully chewing on his lower lip as Google shut the radio off. "So much for that."

"Hey, um, does this help with anything? I found it on the floor in the hospital before we ran, it looked important." Wilford spoke up, offering Doctor Iplier a couple of pages splattered with blood. "Do you know what it is?"

"Oh my god," Doctor Iplier breathed in disbelief as he held the papers with trembling hands. "I recognize that handwriting...it's Henrik's. It must be the notes Henrik made to find the cure."

"What's it say?" Jim prompted impatiently, casually filming the doctor as he cleared his throat before speaking.

"If someone besides me is reading this, then that means that I'm either dead, or worse, a zombie."

Doctor Iplier abruptly broke off as his voice cracked with emotion at the end of the sentence, the doctor pausing before taking a deep breath and continuing.

"What I know about the disease is limited, but I do know that antiseptic helps remove the bacteria that causes the cells to decay. As far as regenerating the cells to reverse the effects, I don't know. I know I've failed to save my friends, but hope that what little knowledge I have can help them as well as others. Sincerely, Doctor Henrik Von Schneeplestien."

"That's really helpful, he halfway developed a cure!" Jim exclaimed as he held his camera closer to the papers, managing to film them before Doctor Iplier batted the camera away.

"Maybe once we find Jack, we can find a way to regenerate cells and make a cure for all of this?" Mark suggested, Doctor Iplier nodding thoughtfully. "That could work."

"Let's hope it does," Google mumbled under his breath as his grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"Or else my second objective will be completed for me."