[color=9e0b0f]"My name is Malcolm Monroe,"[/color] the old man said. [color=9e0b0f]"Are you the leader here? You must be quite the remarkable young woman to be leader of men who are older than yourself,"[/color] he complimented her. 
His smile twitched when she wanted to disarm him, but he handed over his weapon. [color=9e0b0f]"I am not comfortable handing over my only source of protection. You understand why of course."[/color] Malcolm said, mirroring her words. [color=9e0b0f]"But since you have not killed me yet I will assume you do not mean to do so,"[/color] he added before handing over his handgun. 

He stared down at his blood and dirt stained hands. [color=9e0b0f]"When the dead started attacking a few of us made a home in a Home Depot on the other side of the city. We barricaded it the best we could. It kept out the dead, but not the living,"[/color] he said bitterly, his jaw clenched in anger. [color=9e0b0f]"We were set upon by vultures of men who forced us from our sanctuary. We tried to find a new home, but we were attacked by a group of the dead as we made our way through the city. I got separated from the others in the mayhem that followed. They likely think I am dead, if any of them made it. Damn those looting bastards!"[/color] Malcolm suddenly snarled, then calmed. [color=9e0b0f]"Forgive my outburst. I am just so very tired..."[/color]

Malcolm closed his eyes, breathing deeply and evenly. [color=9e0b0f]"The world is consumed by Hell... even the Devil himself doesn't bother with us, leaving us to his army of the flesh-eating dead... God has abandoned us..."[/color]

Something was pressed into his hand and he realized it was a pack of peanut butter crackers. [color=9e0b0f]"Thank you. I'm sorry. I was rambling. I am quite hungry as well,"[/color] Malcolm said, eating the food carefully as though every crumb counted.