Cody stumbled back into their makeshift, hidden base, weary and undeniably grimy. He had just returned from a harrowing quest for food and dwindling supplies, the necessities of survival in a world turned upside down.

Their lives had transformed dramatically—a far cry from the soldier's existence to one dominated by the constant threat of marauding zombies. Now, evasion took precedence over confrontation, a bitter reality that gnawed at him.

Yet, despite the yearning to fight, Cody was far from foolish. He understood the importance of choosing his battles, even if it meant retreating when every instinct screamed to charge forward.

He rapped a familiar rhythm on the steel door, a code they devised to ensure they recognised one another. Stepping inside, he dropped the supplies onto the floor, then leaned heavily against the door, allowing himself a moment of respite.

“Finally, some time to breathe,” he murmured, rubbing the tension from his temples. He sauntered over to {{user}}, and perched on a crate, crossing his arms over his chest.