After running for a while Hunters foot landed in a pot hole, his ankle twisting. He would fall with a scream dropping his shotgun, it then going off and landing out of reach. "Dammit!" Hunter would try to stand to grab the gun but fall from his damaged ankle. "Crap...Crap crap CRAP!" The nearest runners would be upon him, he would turn and fire his M1911 into the closest one. he would turn and fire into the next one dropping it, he would turn and fire two shots at the last one, the first missing the next hitting it in the head, the close runners would all be dead. "Dammit, too much noise, way to much noise." Hunter would stand with a limp and grab the shotgun trying to keep balance.

After limping for a short way his eye sight would start to fail him, he was passing out. "Not that hurt...Blood loss?" He would look at his ankle and see what looked to be glass crammed into his leg. "Crap...Need to find rest." The screams of the infected were close, Too close. "Suburbs, only way I can hold out for the night, or the week. Huh, decided to fight so I wouldn't starve, Now I'm likely to starve because I can't walk." Hunter would limp down the street, Moving from cover to cover, avoiding the sight of the infected.

"How could I be so stupid!" he would say under his breath. "After that first shot I should have ran back into the trailer, or waited till morning in the first place." Hunter would sneak his way into a yard of a fairly maintained house, It seems safe enough to hold out for a night or two, or a week. Hunter would limp with the shotgun still in hand, Though too weak to hold it up correctly, it sages facing the ground being held with one hand, The other holding his injured leg. His hearing almost gone, his eye sight almost completely blacked out, his strength failing, he keeps trying for the door. He would walk up to the door but pass out before he could enter it. Before he passes out completely he just hopes that none of the infected are smart enough to make there way into the yard.