Boxes
Boxes can be both your friend and your enemy.
Thump
"Uhhnng?" came the garbled response of the infected who the box had run into. The creature stared at the large unmoving object for a time, it's diseased brain straining to comprehend the situation. Grunting, it turned away and shuffled towards a small cluster of its kin. A small flap on the side of refrigerator-sized cardboard box flipped up, a pair of nervous eyes peered out from inside to check if the path was clear of anymore roadblocks.
Inside this box was a young woman, her blouse tattered, make up smudged and smeared. She was thanking her quick thinking of bringing flats to work with her, running from zombies in heels would have been the death of her. She peeked out one more flap before grabbing onto the crudely made handholds and daring to move again. It was slow going and she constantly bumbled into things, which attracted curious stares from the simple minded infecteds that wandered the road she was trying to get down. In a building at the end of this street was a safe house.
After a few minutes of walking, she needed a break. The box was made of thick cardboard and so it wasn't the lightest thing to carry, but it was better than walking out there completely exposed. So far it had proved to have been a good idea, not a single zombie had realized she was in here. If this kept up, she'd make it to salvation within the hour.
THUMP
Her breath hitched as something landed on top of her box, the weight of it causing the stapled top to dip noticeably. The sniffing and growls a dead give away to the identity of what was perched atop her box. Of all things that could have happened, she ended up attracting the attention of one of the most dangerous infected - a Hunter.
He'd been watching the strange-nonprey-thing move slowly down the street for a while now. Whatisitwhatisssit? it was starting to irritate him, though he didn't understand why.
Onlypreythingsandbrothersmove.
Growling in frustration at the growing madness it was causing his mind, he decided the only way to know if it was prey or not was to check it out up close. It pause for a moment and he took the chance to pounce it now, unsure what would happen when he did. Landing with a satisfying thump, he had to quickly rearrange his footing as the thing started buckling under his weight. Listening and sniffing, he growled in satisfaction as the fresh and fearful scent of a preything washed over his senses.
Preything! It'sapreything! ... preythinginnon-preything?
He sat up on his haunches, attempting to make sense of the situation and figure out how to get the preything that was in the nonpreything. The top sagged under the pressure until...
RIIIIPPP
A startled screech mingled with a terrified scream as the cardboard gave in and dropped the hunter inside the box, knocking the woman down. Outside the box commons took notice of the commotion and apprehensively approached the object. Meanwhile the two box dwellers stared at each other, minds racing to assess the situation. The silence was thick between their tangled limbs. Finally the woman let a trembling whimper slip. The hunter's face morphed into a wide, bloody grin. A growl, that was almost a purr, rumbled from his chest. Knowing her time was up, the woman tried to bring her limbs up in defense, but her legs were under the creature's body - and it knew it had the upper hand.
All the commons that were near the box scattered, the vicious kill screech of the hunter shattered the silence, drowning out the screams and sound of ripping cardboard. Soon all that was left was a lump of blood-soaked, shredded cardboard and a bloody, satisfied hunter.