"Alright." Marko paused looking up and down the street. "I'll go check some of these cars. You want to find a way in?" 

He told Chief to stay by the shopfront, Marko could see him from the street and he had a better view of what was going on. As he approached a beaten up white Ford he took a look through the shattered windshield. There was a biter, looked like a soccer mom type, safe driver had her seat belt on before they turned, she wasn't going to be causing any trouble. He approached the driver side door, the window there was intact of course. Marko sighed and tried the door, it opened with a click. Closer to the corpse now his nostrils were attacked by a stench worse than that he had gotten used to, her groaning was weak and her swiping out more uncoordinated than any zombie he'd seen so far. The state she was in, Marko almost felt sorry for her. For a moment dwelling on the lost humanity, who she was, her life before the outbreak. At heart he knew it was the reminder of his own mortality that the sadness stemmed from. It reminded him of a poem he had learned when he was younger in school called 'Ambulances' by an author he couldn't remember the name of.

[i]
Far from the exchange of love to lie,
Unreachable inside a room,
The traffic parts to let go by,
Brings closer what is left to come,
And dulls to distance all we are.[/i]

Those last few lines hit home. He smiled, memories of better times but memories was all he had. "Sorry." He muttered, raising his axe and with two belts of the butt he ended the torment. Crouching down he popped the bonnet and made his way to the front. Securing the hood he took hold of the wires leading to the engine compartment and located the engine end. Eureka, spark plugs. He took them, leaving the car to head back for the shopfront stopping for a second look back at the Ford, nodding to himself he left and looked around for Ray.

"I got the plugs!" He called, minding the volume of his voice. "Any joy?" He asked.