As Greg helped Carter walk, he couldn't but think about Brandon, Horace's companion.
The more we are the better the chance of our survival he thought. But Brandon seemed capable of maintaining his survival in this living hell. Their way to the Bank building seemed clear, no obstacles, none for the moment at least. Greg was struggling to help Carter limb along whilst Holding his combat knife and 9mm handgun. He sheathed the knife with his left hand. Tucked his handgun between his belly and pants afterwards, making sure it wont fall off. 

Greg looked down at Carters leg checking if it was bleeding. "Your le-" he was interrupted by a horrifying horde of fifteen zombies. They approached from the right side. Creeping out from an alley. Greg's stomach ached, his vision blacking a bit. His heart pounded like a wild mustang. He was terrified. Carter was able to shoot a couple of them. Aiming to their torso's. Greg gently put down Carter down, laying his back against a brick wall. "Carter, fire at will!" Greg put down his backpack and grabbed his M16, he clocked it and aimed for the zombie's knees and legs. 

"Chuk...chuk" the mag was emptied. The horde was crippled. Greg sighed in relief. Breathing quickly trying to calm his Heart. He turned around, looking down to carter he said "You okay?". He carried Carter back up, along side his backpack  and headed to the bank. Which was close. 

When they entered, Horace was there to welcome them. Money was all over the ground. The place smelled of stink, it was terribly hot in there. Looking around Greg couldn't find Brandon. Looking back to Horace he said "Brandon didn't arrive yet!?..we must head out and find him!". Greg laid Carter down gently. He took out his handgun and a one mag. He gave it to Carter. "With that injury, I am afraid you should stay here." He nodded, "shall we go Horace?" Greg asked.