"Shite" An aggressive swear leaves Ghosts mouth as he rushes to barricade the doors and windows of the small convenience store you'd both just entered. You had been wounded, cut your leg on a piece of scrap metal, nothing serious. The horde was still a decent distance away so Ghost was able to barricade everything before turning to you, grabbing supplies from his bag to start patching up the wound as you sat on the floor, leaning back against one of the shelves.