Deadman Crawling [m×m]

TWO

He holds his breath as he sneaks out, the door to his kitchen closing softly behind him as he takes the first step out onto the balcony.

He ties his shoes and adjusts the strap of his empty backpack before double checking he has everything.

He has a butcher knife and two other small(er) ones hidden carefully along the contour of his body.  In his hand he has the hefty weight of his crossbow, one he bought many years ago on a whim for his birthday.

The crossbow is a risky move though.

While it doesn't make a loud bang as a gun would, it takes him long to pull it back and reload.  And it will only take him longer with the duct tape wrapped around his arm as an extra precaution.  After all, zombies were once humans and humans have blunt teeth.  Biting through the duct tape will be hard, he knows.

And although he's confident in the duct tape preventing and zombie to dig their teeth into the skin if his arms, a bigger worry plagues his mind.  He only has three arrows on hand for the crossbow.  Three shots that he'll have to use wisely.

He breathes deeply and closes his eyes.

He can do this.

With apprehension and determination in his eyes, he peers down and finds the parking lot empty.

At least he thinks that until he hears something rummaging through the dumpsters near by.

He pulls back when he sees an infected appear from behind the dump, garbage sticking to it's open wounds and torn clothing.

He tries not to make a sound, especially when he recognizes the infected as one of his neighbors and he can't help but breathe in relief when it leaves.

He gets to work.

He slings the crossbow over his shoulder as his hand wraps around the first metal bar going up.

The plan is simple.

Walk the length of the connected rooftops to the last building.  At the edge he'll be able to see the store front and determine whether there's a threat, whether it'll be safe.

He manages to climb up quickly and his breath is stolen as a gust of wind hits his face.

He lays low and breathes.

First part is over.

Now he needs to walk over the other buildings and with his heart in his throat and unsteady footsteps, he manages to make it.

He hesitates when he needs to get close to the edge but the growl of hunger pushes him over.

He peers down and bites his lip.

His eyes scan the surrounding area and finds that it's empty.

Across the street glass is scattered everywhere and it's hard to determine if it's from the car embedded in light pole or if it's from the store's entrance.

It doesn't matter though.

Because the door is shattered, it'll be an easy entry.

He hurries toward the back and looks down once more.

No infected.

Slowly he climbs down.

Wincing when he has to let go and let gravity help him out.

He hurries down the rusty staircase of the building and presses his back to the wall.

From this point he'll have about 30 seconds to run across the street and get inside the store.

And although the streets are relatively empty, he doesn't know what to expect once he's actually inside.

It doesn't matter though, he's come too far to go back now.

He walks slow at first.

Hiding behind some planted foliage before checking both ways and just going for it.

He cringes when he hears his footfalls and prays that no one hears him.

And somehow, he makes it.

He brushes away shattered glass with the long sleeve of his shirt before ducking inside.

He unlatches his crossbow and sets an arrow inside before grabbing a knife.

His steps crunch on the glass but he tries not to let it get to him.

He convinces himself the silence is worse.

He heads to the first aisle where he finds rotting fruits and vegetables.  Nothing salvageable there.

He does grab bottles of salt on the opposite shelf before hurrying through his trek.

In the back there's more rotting food, rotting meat to be precise, and he covers his nose when the stench becomes unbearable.

He snags a few bags of stale chips and cookies and a few aisles down he finds the canned goods.

He opens the lip of his bag and shoves in as many as he can carry along with cup noodles and whatever else he can fit.

In his haste, though, he doesn't realize when a can slips from his hold.

He watches as if it where in slow motion.

The can falls from his grasp and lands with a resounding thud.

He freezes, heart hammering inside his chest.

And then he hears it.

A curious groan coming from across the store.

Fuck, oh fuck no!