With the sounds of the undead growing steadily louder, Chris and Tony skirted around the buildings on the street. They avoided the main road, walking through that would make them a glowing, neon painted target with flashing lights and an arrow sign. No, they sifted through the houses on the side of the road. Chris led the approach to the general store, with its colourful signage, her eye trained down the sights of her rifle. For his part, Tony sneaked along behind her, crowbar at his side. The sounds of the shuffling, grunting undead seemed to be coming from the edges of town, with the few odd moans within the nearer vicinity.

Halfway to the store, between a house and a run-down barber's, a walker shuffled out of the brush towards them. What might have been a scream died in Tony's throat as Chris slammed the butt of her rifle into the walker's temple. She released the baton and struck it over the head repeatedly, twisting to avoid the spray of rotting blood. 

Tony stepped way back. He hated to watch these encounters; hated looking at the former human being, for fear he might get an idea of who they used to be, who their families were. Seeing Chris attack them was just as horrible. He didn't know if it was rage, protective instinct or pain he saw in her eyes when she struck the walker over, and over, and over again until it stopped moving.

She dropped the baton, then, and slowly turned to Tony for inspection. It was their ritualistic habit – Chris dispatched the undead, then Tony made sure she hadn't injured herself or ingested blood. He checked her for cuts first – all clean there – then glanced into her mouth, ears, eyes, anywhere she could have been splattered. 

“You're okay,” he whispered, not ashamed of the relief that slipped into his voice.

Chris nodded, though it wasn't as stern as usual. She was relieved, too, he thought. She wiped the baton on her combats, collapsed it and stuck it back in her belt loop. They continued as before, the rest of the way to the store. Pressing their backs against the glass store front, they checked every angle, ever conscious of the increasing volume of the undead. Chris glanced in through the window and froze.

“There's something in there,” she muttered to Tony, who seized up at the notice. Chris spoke quickly in hushed tones. “Stay by the door, keep watch. If you see something, come get me. Don't be afraid to kill them.” Then, she opened the door just enough for her to slip through, refusing to let the bell above the door announce her arrival, and weaved through the stacks towards the figure.