Max's head was on a swivel, a low groan rumbling from his chest. People kept coming to his farm! It was his! Why couldn't they understand that?! Hadn't he gutted enough of them to send a message?

But, at the same time, it was nice to have something to chase, and if he did well, he was rewarded. And Max liked being rewarded. It made him feel good. Almost as good as chasing those dumb survivors.

A distorted laugh bubbled out of him as he spotted one of those silly people, revving his chainsaw almost as a taunt. In an instant, in tune with his weapon, he broke into a sprint, aiming for the survivor. But, to his surprise, the dodged, and as he slammed into the side of the barn he let out a hurt and infuriated yell, his chainsaw locking up with a crunch.