You let out a low, pitched whistle.

Echoing throughout the empty store... Silence. You were alone..

Nearing the end of your supply run, You heard a pained groan?

Slowly, followed the source of the noise to a isle in the store. Your weapon ready to take the life of a living dead a second time. Death was no option.

Cautious as you approached… A man.. Using a shelf as support and bleeding from an injury to the leg. His voice is hoarse yet... haughty?

“..Put the weapon away.”