Nicholas was quiet. It was only a little past noon, and he had already been through so much in this one day than he'd been through since the first cough. He could recall the person that Mattie was talking about. He tried to remember if it was he who his father had bought the "legendary" goat cheese from. He felt his heart ache as he smiled at the thought of when his father came home with it, yelling, "I got goat cheese!" and sticking it in Alisa's face before saying, "It comes from goats!"

He laughed a little, but quickly passed it off as a cough. There were unwelcome tears in his eyes and a lump of sadness in his throat. He held Cole even more closer to himself, and momentarily put his face against the blankets, just long enough to soak up any tears that wanted to come out.

They came upon the house that Mattie spoke of, which obviously was the house because one lone goat was standing at the edge of the fence, staring at them. Its piercing eyes made Nicholas uneasy. He knew animals could get infected, or at least, that's what he assumed. However, he had yet to see an infected animal. He guessed most of them died from the disease rather than suffered from it.

Cautiously, protectively cradling Cole, Nicholas approached the door and knocked on it. He could hear movement inside of the house, but nobody came to answer. He looked back at Mattie and gave Cole to her. "Here," he said. "Stay here, I hear something inside."

Nicholas reached down and grabbed his rifle out of the backpack. He tried the doorknob, only to find it locked, and he felt like his morals were being questioned: did he break down the door of a possibly innocent person's only shelter? If so, it would have been for a good cause: to keep the baby fed.

Deep breath. Don't think twice. He kicked it once, twice, and the third time it finally broke in. Cole was crying now, probably frightened by the noise. He hadn't thought of that.

He was shaking. It wasn't like he hadn't avoided and encountered the undead before, but each time, he never knew if he was going to live. His steps were slow, and his breathing uneven. The movement was coming from what looked like a kitchen, from what Nicholas could see from the doorway. Again, slowly, he made his way to that doorway. He readied his rifle, and quickly stepped into the room only to find that the noise had been coming from a rat eating out of a tin food bowl, which quickly scurried away once Nicholas made himself present.

And then something threw itself onto his back.

Screaming, probably like a little girl, and flailing to turn around, Nicholas shoved the zombie with long dreads off of him. As quickly as Nicholas had shoved it off, it came back at him, not only scratching his arm with its inhumanly long and sharp..."claws," but also biting his bicep, crunching down on the flesh with as much strength as the thing's jaw could give.

"Oh, god! Oh, [i]SHIT,[/i]" he yelled, kicking it and then falling on his ass. He aimed the rifle and pulled the trigger - but it only clicked.

"[i]Oh, no, no, no, no, no,[/i]" he whispered hoarsely, again trying to aim and fire at the zombie, but failing. He scrambled backward, still on the floor, and brought himself to his feet. He took the front of the rifle and rammed the zombie in the chest with it, making it stumble backward. It was relentless. It charged at him again, putting its [i]filthy[/i] hands around his neck. Stunned, he dropped the rifle and started flailing, being lifted up off of the ground. He kicked his legs and threw punches at the zombie's face, to no avail. It stared at him - flesh a rotting gray color, eyes rolled into the back of its head. Its teeth were as rotten as its flesh, some had even fallen out.

Nicholas' vision became cloudy and he started to panic, which didn't help his breathing situation. Before long, his body relaxed and after a few moments, the monster dropped him on the ground.