"FUCKING WAKE UP" the guy shouted "THEY'RE BREAKING THROUGH". He shook Ameerah's shoulder violently, she sat up suddenly but was dazed. The guy pulled her by the cloak and pushed her through the now opened window, then threw her boots out behind her. Ameerah tumbled and groggily got up, looking back inside, the guy tried to hold several Zombies back with a detached door, but their combined weight overpowered him. She looked at her stuff in the corner of the room now full of the freaks.

Ameerah squat down out of the freaks line of sight. She pulled her boots on and drew her cloak hood over her braided hair. Now firmly awake she looked around and noticed some other survivors on the run. Hoping they knew where they were going, she quietly followed, making sure none of the freaks were tailing them.

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Waking to movement in the barn, Ameerah noticed one of the survivors scouting around, 'smart' she thought, the same guy then pounded the door to wake everyone up, 'maybe not so smart' she mused dryly. 
Ameerah sat up in the pile of hay in the loft of the barn. She looked down at everyone scattered around, some she recognised from yesterday at the trading station. She cinched her belt bringing her loose clothes close to her small waist that contrasted dramatically with her size.

One of the survivors seemed keen to take the lead, or at least have his opinion heard, she quietly nodded in agreement, though the trade goods and travelling provisions she left behind last night were much more valuable than a pistol and a pocket knife. 
Ameerah climbed down from the hay loft. She felt vulnerable without a weapon, having grown up in an agrarian community, she knew many farm tools could double as a weapon, provided the wooden handles weren't compromised, so she went straight for the tool bench to get first pick of anything useful, and hopefully, reliably lethal.