Farren’s heart jumped up in her throat as she saw a man walking up to the doors. She could still hear the moans of the undead behind them and she knew, no matter who this man was and what he’d done, he could be the key to their salvation at that moment. She held onto Dean a little tighter when she spotted his gun, and being shoved inside the building didn’t help either. She stood a little closer to Buck, feeing safer with the man who wasn’t pointing a gun at her, and fear shone out in her eyes. Farren swallowed hard, moving down the hallway that the man pointed them to, looking between him and Buck as he asked for weapons. Buck still had her bag, and it contained her knife. Luckily, she had her small hand gun tucked into the back of her jeans, but it had no bullets anyway. It was mainly just to threat if her or Dean’s life came down to it. 

She let Buck do the talking for now, just holding her son close while he set down the hammer and asked the guy to stop pointing the gun at her and Dean. She was liking Buck more by the minute. It was sad there weren’t more decent people around to admire in this world left. She watched and waited silently, eyes continually moving and looking around or at the two men, or at the gun. “Thank you for letting us in,” she said quietly. She was surprised they were the only survivors he’d met… had he not left this place at all? Or was everyone else in the town dead? She shuddered at the thought, stirring Dean whose head moved to the other side with a sigh, still asleep.

“I’m Farren… this is Dean, and my friend Buck. Does this hospital have any clean beds to sleep in?” she asked, knees visibly shaking even if it was slight, speaking while only half of her body was visible to the man they’d stumbled upon, thanks to Buck.