I stood, my bow still in hand, ready to fire. His eyes were wide, hands still up in surrender. I glance him over. He seemed to be about my age, in his 20s. He was Asian, with a high forehead and high cheekbones. His mouth was small but open in shock. His dark hair was hidden underneath a baseball cap and he had on a dark shirt and jeans. To him, I was probably a horrible sight. My dark hair was a disheveled mess, my arms grimy, my shoulder bloody from where I fell. I knew I had a mean look in my eyes, ready to kill. My shirt was loose and dirty, my jeans ripped at the knees. All I needed was a good shower and a laundry day. I hadn't showered in weeks, and I know I smelled of body odor. But he didn't look disgusted. The only face he pulled was incredulous. He couldn't believe I was standing in front of him. Still alive.

"What are you doing here?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Did those things follow you?"

He shook his head, still disbelieving. "Not as far as I can tell. I was running from them when I heard a noise in the closet."

"Why are you out in the dark?" I questioned, still suspicious of him.

He nodded before he started speaking. "Was on a supply run when they started to come after me. I holed myself up in a building , waiting it out."

"Why'd you come here?"

"It was the closest thing I could duck in."

Satisfied with his answer, I lowered my bow and put the arrow back in its quiver. "Are they downstairs?"

He breathed a sigh before he continued, "I don't think they saw me come in here. They were in the alley when I ran."

I nodded my head, "Right."

Sitting down in the closet, I took a water bottle out of my bag. It was almost gone. Sigh. I would have to go on a search for more. "Well, are you going to come in, or just stay out there for them to sniff you out?"

He walked in to the closet, shutting the door behind him and fumbled around looking for a seat in the dark. Finally, he slid down the wall to the spot beside me, breathing heavily. We didn't talk for a few moments and I offered him a drink of water. He accepted and handed it back to me before I downed the rest of it.

"You said you were looking for supplies…" I trailed off, hoping he would finish the rest of my sentence.

He took a moment of relief before he responded, "There's a camp just outside the city."

That piqued my interest. A camp? People? Maybe there was some hope left. "How many are there of you?"

"About twenty or so."

Wow. I didn't expect that number. I gasped lightly showing my surprise.

"What?"

"I just—I didn't expect the number to be that high. Five maybe, but twenty?" I knew my face looked shocked, but he couldn't tell in the dark.

"Yeah, I didn't either," he said. After a moment of silence, he ask me something that would change my life forever. From that moment, I knew it would. "Would you want to maybe come back with me?"

I thought it over for a few seconds. Do I want to? Would it be safe? I knew there were other people, but wouldn't I be safer on my own? But then, if a crowd goes after me, I would be dead in an instant. With twenty people, there would be more people to overpower those dead things. More people, more power. One person can move quicker, sure. But a crowd of those dead things would surely have me down in a second.

I thought this over again before I responded with a quick acceptance.

"Good, you can help me with the supplies."

We waited in silence for the daylight to come. When the light trickled in, placed my quiver around my torso and did the same with my bow. I lifted my rucksack and held it in my hand.

"How many do you expect to be out there?"

"Not too many I hope. But we still have to move quick. There's a market around the corner. But we have to go back first and get my bags. I dropped them when I was running."

He nodded his head and moved to open the door.

"Wait," I put my hand on his arm to stop him from moving. "Thank you," I whispered.

He hurriedly said, "Don't thank me yet."

He nodded his head and opened the door. Sunlight filtered in through the windows, and I had to squint my eyes to see. I noticed he looked to the corner where my sister lay lifeless. But he didn't say anything. And I was thankful for that. We moved to the staircase and made our way down.

I heaved a huge breath before we walked to the doors of the warehouse. He looked at me worriedly before he nodded his head and went to open the door. Before us was a wasteland. There weren't even dead people milling about.

"Alright, I have to go back two blocks to where I lost the bags," he said over his shoulder. He craned his neck to look around some vehicles. "There they are. I want you to stay here. Cover my back and wait for me to come get you. Then we'll make a break for the store."

I nodded my head, dropped my bag, and readied my bow. He made his way down the street, ducking behind cars to make sure he wasn't seen. However, the living dead weren't walking about. Wherever they were, they were distracted by something. The streets were deserted. Papers flew about in the wind. The eerie silence was deafening. As I could only make out, the Asian's feet padding along the road.

He came back relatively quickly, and I grabbed my bag and followed him to the store.

Inside it was just as desolate as the outside had been. We made a round of the store, scanning the area for any of the dead. There were none. He hurried, making his way through the canned aisle, grabbing whatever he could fit in the bags. Then he slung one over his shoulder, and opened the other one, cramming more stuff inside. The place was almost looted out, but there were enough canned food to feed a whole family for a week. I briefly wondered how this would hold up to twenty people.

"Now for batteries," he said over his shoulder as he passed me. He threw whatever he sizes he could find in the duffle and he was out the door in a second.

I followed him outside, where we began walking toward the outskirt of the city. There were still no dead outside and my mind wandered to other places. I was distracted when we came to the edge of the city where a car sat waiting. He jumped in to the driver's seat and waited before I jumped in beside him. The car was beat up, but it was a car nonetheless.

"How long of a drive is it?" I asked, placing my bag on the floor.

"About twenty minutes," he stated, starting up the engine.

I hummed as we started down the left side of the highway. The right side was littered with abandoned cars and trucks. No doubt people thought they could fight their way out of the city when it was overrun. A thought crossed my mind in an instant.

"What's your name?" I said abruptly, startling him.

"Uh…Glenn." He leaned elbow on the window and started to drive faster. "Yours?"

"Lane."