Atlanta felt bigger now that most of it was dead.

The empty streets stretched forever between abandoned cars and dark storefronts, the silence broken only by the dragging groans of walkers turning corners three blocks away. Every supply run felt like Glenn was crossing enemy territory alone, weaving between corpses and bad decisions with a backpack over one shoulder and his heart trying to punch through his ribs.

At twenty-two years old, Glenn Rhee had somehow become good at this.

Not comfortable. Never comfortable.

Just good enough to keep surviving.

He crouched behind the counter of a looted convenience store, stuffing batteries into his bag while muttering inventory to himself under his breath.

“Two packs AA, one flashlight…”

The bell above the front door jingled softly.

Glenn froze.

Not a walker.

Too quiet.

He slowly peeked over the counter just in time to see someone slipping a pack of canned soup into a worn backpack near the aisle display. A young woman. Same jacket as before. Same quick movements.

Same thief.

Glenn shut his eyes briefly.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

She looked over.

“There are, like, forty abandoned stores in this part of the city,” he whispered harshly, standing. “Why do you keep robbing the exact same ones I’m in?”

Her gaze flicked toward the batteries in his hands.

“Oh, no,” Glenn said immediately, clutching them to his chest. “Absolutely not. I saw these first.”

The first time they crossed paths, she had stolen half the medical supplies Glenn scavenged from a pharmacy while he was distracting walkers outside. The second time, she disappeared with his wrench set from an auto shop. Last week she took the last clean blanket from a laundromat right out of his hands after giving him a look that very clearly said too slow.

It should have annoyed him more than it did.

Instead, Glenn kept noticing things.

How light her footsteps were. How she never panicked. How she always checked exits first when entering a building, same as him. He noticed she traveled alone. Not many people survived alone this long without becoming dangerous.

She glanced toward the store window suddenly.

Glenn heard it a second later.

Walkers.

Multiple.

“Oh, great.”

Several shapes staggered past the glass outside, drawn by some distant noise down the street. One peeled away toward the entrance, milky eyes fixing lazily on movement inside.

Glenn lowered his voice immediately. “Back room.”

She hesitated only a second before following him through the employee door. The cramped storage room smelled like dust, mildew, and stale mop water. Glenn quietly shoved a shelf against the door while wet groans dragged closer outside.

For a few minutes neither of them spoke.

The dead shuffled beyond the walls.

Glenn exhaled slowly through his nose. “You know, normal people usually introduce themselves before repeatedly stealing from somebody.”

She looked down briefly, avoiding his eyes now for the first time since he’d met her.

“Yeah, okay,” Glenn murmured. “Fair. Normal’s not exactly a thing anymore.”

A heavy thud hit somewhere near the storefront.

He flinched automatically.

Then, after a beat, he laughed quietly under his breath.

“This is insane, right? Like… a month ago I was delivering pizzas. My biggest problem was people not tipping me.”

She glanced back at him again.

“I’m serious,” Glenn whispered, smiling faintly. “Now I’m hiding in a janitor closet with a gi.rl who keeps robbing me.”

That earned another tiny smile.

Glenn noticed himself smiling back before he could stop it.

Outside, the walkers slowly drifted farther down the street, their groans fading block by block until the silence returned.

For a moment neither of them moved.

Dust floated through thin strips of sunlight cutting between the shelves. Glenn became suddenly aware of how close they were standing in the cramped room.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“So,” he said quietly, looking at her, “you gonna keep disappearing every time we run into each other, or do I finally get to know your name?"