He was met with the curious and fearful gazes of everyone inside.
Some looked at him from head to toe, their faces wrinkling in disgust at the stench of decay clinging to his clothes. Others were too afraid to raise their heads, hiding behind trembling hands, cowering in silence.
A mother sat in the corner, clutching her child tightly, eyes shut as if willing this nightmare to vanish.
One man knelt on the floor, hands clasped tightly in prayer, whispering desperate pleas to a God he hoped still listened.
All of them looked broken.
Raven glanced at them briefly but said nothing. He turned away and headed toward the shelves to grab something to eat and drink.
As he reached for a can of juice, the man from before hurried to him and said,
"Hey, don't take anything without paying. The boss will cut it from my salary."
Raven didn't reply. He leaned back against the nearby shelf, opened the can, and took a sip.
After everything that had happened, the cold drink brought a brief moment of relief. It was enough to remind him that he was still alive.
Only then did he turn and say,
"So what if I do? You gonna complain? Go ahead."
The man fell silent. There was no arguing about money anymore not in this kind of world.
After a moment, he spoke again, this time quietly, more thoughtfully.
"Hey… you fought them, didn't you?"
Raven emptied the can and replied,
"I did."
It was what the man had expected. For someone to make it this far, alone and unharmed, it was the only explanation.
"So… aren't you scared?" he asked. "They just came out of nowhere and started killing everyone. I couldn't even imagine going out there."
Raven didn't answer immediately.
His mind flashed back to the chaos, people screaming, the blood, the relentless slaughter.
Even on his way here, he'd seen hundreds die in minutes.
It had been brutal.
Anyone would be terrified after witnessing something like that.
"I don't know," he finally said.
And it was true. He didn't know. If someone asked whether seeing all those deaths affected him, his answer would be no. None of it had left a mark.
Still, he hadn't rushed into battle either. He could have helped some of those people. Maybe even saved them.
But he didn't.
And thinking back on it now… did he regret it?
Not at all.
"Do you have any tools? A hammer would be good," Raven asked, eyes scanning the shelves again.
He wasn't staying here. After some rest, he'd leave. His current weapon, just a chain with a disc had done the job, but it wouldn't be enough if stronger monsters appeared.
It was a good makeshift weapon. It had killed 24 undead, but if more powerful ones showed up, he'd need something better, something reliable at close range.
"Yeah, in the back," the man replied, wondering why he needed one, but he quickly understood.
Raven was planning to head out again.
Without another word, Raven walked toward the back room.
The man followed. He wanted to say something, but hesitation and fear made him falter.
He was just an ordinary guy. He didn't want to hide forever, but neither did he want to die. Like most people today, he'd grown up reading stories and watching shows about apocalypses, dreaming of being the hero in them, maybe even surviving.
But fantasy was nothing like reality.
Seeing monsters through a screen and seeing them in person were two different things entirely.
To be fair, the fact that he hadn't wet himself when it started was a small miracle.
But deep inside, he wanted more.
Any rational person could tell, sitting in one place doing nothing was just waiting for death.
No one was coming to save them. If they wanted to live, they had to fight for themselves. The sooner they realized that, the better.
'I know I can't do this alone… but if I go with him, my chances might improve.'
It was clear Raven could fight. He had the guts to come out here looking for gear. That was enough proof.
Still, the fear of being rejected held the man back.
He'd seen someone die just earlier. A man inside a locked car had been ripped apart after an undead punched through the glass like it was paper.
Thinking this store's glass doors would stop them was naive.
Soon enough, Raven reached a shelf lined with tools.
There were a few hammers, crowbars, old but sturdy enough to do damage.
He picked one up and gave it a light swing.
'Can this crush a skull?' he wondered.
The spinning momentum of his previous weapon had been the reason he managed to kill them before. But in tight quarters, it would be useless.
A crowbar, though? Easy to swing, compact, and strong.
A good choice.
"I'll take a few of these," Raven said, not even looking back.
He was focused on choosing.
"Umm… h-hey?" the man stammered.
He finally found the courage to speak.
"Would you mind if I… tagged along with you?"
***
Thanks for reading.