"Roger the fuck out of that," said Mattie, her eyes following the shovel that Nick wielded. She shouldn't be nervous, of course. After all, he wasn't the only one holding an item that could easily be used for bludgeoning. But people were treacherous, and at times like this, people probably went loony and beat their survival partners to death in their sleep or something. The thought made her grip her crowbar tighter as she followed Nick out of the house and quietly put her twinkie in her pack. If there was anything not to trust a stranger with, it was her twinkie supply. Her precious, terribly-low twinkie supply. 

As Nick said, the Wal-Mart was right down the road. It was weird looking at the building and seeing it so lifeless, a shell of what it used to be, no longer bustling with poor folks looking to buy cheaply-made shit. It could be a good shelter, she mused as they approached the entrance. But with the size of these stores, it could probably also provide crude shelter to the undead. 

Best avoid the clothes racks.