"Stop!" Zoey hissed in a frantic whisper, throwing out her arm to halt the others. Francis, still focused on the rooftops they had just emerged off of into the office building, ran into her and nearly knocked her over. Despite the gravity of their current situation, they were both forced to bite back laughter.

"What?" Bill demanded.

"Listen!" she insisted.

They did, and in the silence that fell all four of them heard the tell-tale heavy huffing and puffing from the room just on the other side of them: a Tank.

"What've you got left?" Louis whispered, pointing to his assault rifle. "I'm pretty low on ammo."

"Me too," Zoey said. "I've got maybe ten rounds left for the rifle, and I want to save that for sniping."

Francis pulled a measly six shotgun rounds from the inside of his vest as Bill shook his head sadly to indicate he too was low on ammunition.

"It's a straight shot through these buildings," Louis told them. "We're not going to get around it unless we go back down to the street and take the long way."

"No," insisted Bill. "There's a barricaded shelter not far up ahead. With any luck, there's ammo in there. We wouldn't make it through the street with just this left. I'll cause a diversion."

"With what?" asked Francis, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"One of these," Bill said, stepping back over to where they'd climbed in through the window and picking up a loose slat of rooftop. "You three need to step into those alcoves, and I'll throw this back out onto the roof."

"That'll put us in plain sight!" Louis said, a little too loudly. His three companions shushed him frantically.

"If the Tank doesn't turn around and just goes straight out onto the roof it won't. While it's out there investigating we can sneak into the next room and get the hell out of this building," Bill explained. "I know it's a long shot," he added, seeing the look on Louis' face. "But if we move fast and quietly, we should be okay."

Francis ducked into the small alcove on the right-hand side of the room. He realized this was where Bill intended to throw the brick from and swore under his breath at the idea of being squashed into a small space with the old man, but it was too late to move.

Louis backed into the other alcove, and Zoey stepped cautiously in beside him. Unless they got damn close, Louis realized, the sleeve of her pink jacket would be in plain view of the Tank. She seemed to realize this at about the same moment and glanced awkwardly over at him.

"Come here," he whispered. He placed an arm around her waist and pulled her in close to him. In order to keep her balance, Zoey wedged her right foot in between his own. The force of her body squashed so tightly against his caused him to fall backward into the remaining space between him and the wall. Something behind him gave an alarmingly crunch. He'd backed into a mirror.

"Sorry," he told her, feeling bad about the awkwardness of the situation.

"It's fine," she reassured him.

They both saw the brick sail across the room from the opposite alcove and crash through the last intact window. Immediately the Tank was on the hunt, bolting into the room. It seemed unaware that four humans also occupied the area. Unfortunately, it stopped at the window and did not venture out onto the roof to investigate. Instead, it bent down and snuffled around the window, crunching glass under its massive feet.

Immobilized and terrified in the corner, Louis's mind raced and became fixated on a very situation inappropriate fact: Zoey was pressed up against him. He became startlingly aware that his hand rested on her hipbone and his arm encircled her small frame until the crook of his elbow was pressed against the delicate curve of her waist. He sensed his body was about to react to the feel of the small of her back pressed against his abdomen. His mind raced to counteract his body.

Dead puppies dead puppies dead puppies! he thought frantically. This could not happen right now. There was a Tank investigating literally fifteen feet from them, and if anything happened she would surely feel it.

At long last, the sounds of some nearby Infected finally prompted the Tank to smash its way through the window and out onto the roof. After a few tense seconds, Bill hissed into the deathly quiet.

"Go go go!"

Zoey broke away almost instantly, and they all darted through the next few rooms not daring to look back. Francis used the butt of his gun to smash in the skulls of the few Infected that loitered near the barricaded door. Completely out of breath, Zoey and Bill slammed the iron bar of the door into its holder as Francis and Louis shoved boxes up against it. After a few seconds, they all seemed to realize the danger had truly passed and started to laugh.

A couple of minutes later, as Louis passed ammunition out to his companions, Zoey spoke up.

"Is your leg okay?"

"What?"

"You backed into that mirror didn't you? Let me see."

He turned and felt her fingers brush the back of his thigh. He desperately thought of dead animals again.

"Looks okay," Zoey told him. "I guess you'll just have seven years of bad luck." She grinned at him.

"Can we count the last two weeks in the seven year total? Because I think all that's gone down since this shit started knocks out about four of those years."

"I'll count it," she said, still grinning.

"Zoey, can you help me with this damn thing?" Bill asked from over in the corner. One of the boxes they had shoved against the barricaded door was balancing precariously, and the old man was futilely trying to steady it himself.

As she went over, Louis realized that he missed the feel of her warm body against him. Part of it was because, yes, she was a beautiful young woman. But it was also because he had not been so close to anyone in weeks. The last hug he'd received had been from his mother, nearly a month ago on his birthday. Suddenly, he felt more alone than he ever had.

Not in his wildest dreams would he have guessed that Zoey felt the same. But she did.