"Sometimes a' nigh' you kinda forget about the zombies, don't ya?" the southern mechanic asked. His beige 'Bull Shifters' shirt was covered in dried crimson blood. He lazily relaxed as best as he could on the back of a tree trunk and sighed.
"No. Not at all." Nick replied grumpily. The conman snatched his health pack and grabbed the single pack of gauze that was left. He ripped off a strip to apply to his bleeding leg and then stuck the gauze back into the red medical kit. "The night makes it more scary. We don't even know if we're going to make it out alive, Ellis."
Ellis sighed once more. He had to agree with his zombie killing comrade. "True, but when wer' a' the safehouses we're safe from all the zombie shit." He shifted his uneasy gaze from the moon to the mumbling conman.
"I guess you could say that." said Nick. He suddenly felt a tug in the back of his throat. Him agreeing with Ellis? Something didn't seem right.
"G-Guys," Rochelle whispered quietly to the group of the three men around her, "I see something. O-Over there. It sounds like a -"
"CHARGER!' Coach bellowed to the forest. He and the other three bolted up into a standing position cradling their guns in their hands.
Bang!
"Got the sucker!" Ellis shouted.
"Nice shot, Ellis." Coach said with a smile. He patted the mechanic's arm.
"See what I mean?" Nick groaned to Ellis, "Not safe whatsoever."
That was the last time he would agree with Ellis on anything relaxing of the sort.