The artificial sound of the guitar and the low tones of Johnny Cash's voice fade away for the third time that morning and Abdul's sheep can no longer jump over the fences he set in his imagination. It was hard to sleep in the heat that the small room contained and captured inside, seeing as the only entrance of air was a small window on the wall behind him and the, right now, closed door. Abdul pulled the headphones away from his ears and closed his eyes once again, which only made him more aware of the sweat drops that made his makeshift bed uncomfortable to rest in; it was like being in a small, personal sauna. He shifted around a little bit and for five minutes, everything was quiet.<br/><br/>The sound of rock, or at least something solid and heavy, being moved apart and falling to the ground, a loud and dry thud; a whisper, the voice of a woman, that woman screaming at the air, at nobody Abdul could heard. And then another scream, this time of pain; but it was inhuman, artificial like that of an electronically reproduced song, akin to something that was not created by a natural process. A demon, perhaps. And once again the woman screamed. Abdul was in a daze; perhaps it was the heat or the lack of sleep but now the unbearable sweat he had produced had turned cold and his hair was standing up. He was wide awake and paying attention to... any noise.<br/><br/>The door was opening.<br/><br/>Abdul held his breath for a moment, if it was any citizen or guard, they would not shoot him for no reason but he had heard tales of zombies that spoke just as a human would. And who's to say the voice of that woman was not also held by the creature that screamed like a demon? The footsteps increased in volume as Trixie made her best effort to not break the tense silence inside the room. Abdul considered his possibilities; he had no weapons aside from a small wrench and even so, he was lying down and already at a disadvantage. And if it was a guard, an armed guard, the trigger would be pressed before he could look at the cowardly henchman in the eyes.<br/><br/>A paint can he had left in the corner, just as many things he left lying around in the disorganized room, was met by the foot of the trespasser.<span style="font-style: italic">''Fuck, nice going girl''.</span>Abdul peered over the covers at the silhouette of a young woman, crouching and looking around for something. And she was armed with a blade, a knife, to be precise. Any battle he attempted to start would be a sure loss on his side, even if he managed to inflict any wounds. At least she had talked to herself; at least he was sure he wouldn't die at the hands of a zombie with the language of man. But, now confirming that it was a ''rational'' being, Abdul considered negotiating from a disadvantageous position. And he took off the covers. The woman obviously saw him move, and she seemed to be on the defensive.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">''Breaking into people's houses is something normal these days, just as is killing and injuring. And I sincerely hope you don't do any of the last two. But I have to ask you, what do you seek from this house? You're part from the Haven, aren't you? We haven't met then but you know we are both getting treated like objects. Like shit, to be specific. And I'm no idealist, but at least we're stuck together in this craphole. Then what do you seek from me when you know all the scrap you find here and try to sell will end in the hands of Paul, eventually... it'll be traced back to me, to my decomposing body.<br/><br/>Drop the knife. <br/><br/>I know not your name, but if we both live here you probably have seen me around, I'm Abdul Muqtadir Muhammad, at your service if you need a repair. But I can only repair your things if I'm alive. What is your name?'' </span><br/><br/>Be calm. Be calm. The cold sweat was the only thing Abdul could feel running donw his forehead but he spoke in an almost stoic manner. Some say panic and the adrenaline that comes with it create reactions of bravery but at the moment, it only had awoken a cool head in a potentially risky situation. Abdul examined the woman further, she wasn't much taller than him but judging from her position, she was no amateur with the way she handled her weapon. Nothing could be worse news. Abdul held his breath and his heart climbed up to his throat as he waited for a response.