Although the girl opened the door, Thomas still took the lead. He had a small handgun for self-defense, but he had not even taken off the safety. He merely gripped a long dagger and moved forward.
Old Mike walked second, while the girl covered the rear. He had not wanted a little girl protecting his back, but Martha was a little crazy. During their argument, she had even jabbed him with the muzzle of her gun a few times.
To avoid an accidental discharge causing unnecessary injuries, he compromised. Protected by this strange "father-daughter" pair, he headed toward the supermarket.
Perhaps God was weeping for this world as well. Just a few steps after they left the shop, torrential rain came crashing down alongside thunder. In an instant, bone-piercing cold swept through every corner of his heart, and the old man felt his whole body stiffen.
Honestly, as a former racing driver, he had thought himself brave enough.
But compared to these two, he was nothing worth mentioning.
Thomas was somewhat more normal. Mack could see layers of complicated emotion in him. He was afraid too, but he overcame it with sheer willpower. To protect the girl, he had decided to fight.
Martha, however, was another matter entirely. With zombies liable to pounce from behind at any moment, she was still chewing gum in the pouring rain.
"Thunderstorms are both good news and bad news." Thomas spoke quietly as he led the way. "The bad news is that visibility is badly affected. The good news is that the thunder and rain will cover our footsteps and scent."
"Oh, young man, the way you put it, for a moment there, I was wondering whether we were lucky or unlucky after all." Old Mike held his gun at the ready and answered