<span style="font-style: italic">Nathan,</span>Rainie thought, committing the name to memory. Adrian didnâ€™t actually give much of a shit whether he was â€˜that guyâ€™ or â€˜Nathan.â€™ But so was the mind of Adrian. He shifted from foot to foot, ready to snag Rainie and bolt at any second. The sounds of the Infected grated against his skull like a cheese grater.<br/><br/>â€œRainieâ€™s my real name.â€ said his sister vaguely, distracted with something thatâ€™d caught her attention. He half expected her to say the phrase, â€˜and my eye color is naturalâ€™ like she always said when she met new people. Both questions topped her â€˜most frequently askedâ€™ list.<br/><br/>At Nathanâ€™s offer for a change of clothes, Rainieâ€™s attention snapped back to him. She turned away from the radio she had been inspecting and looked at him. He was doing something with a roll of boxing tape, the super-strong, untearable, waterproof kind. She watched him as he applied the tape around his bandages while explaining that the previous occupantâ€™s clothes would be too big. She winced. That was going to hurt when it came off.<br/><br/>â€œI would appreciate that...â€ Rainie said with the slightest degree of sadness in her voice. She wished Adrian wasnâ€™t being so...weird about this whole situation.<br/><br/>A sudden cold caused her to shiver, the wetness from standing out in the rain for hours finally seeping in. There was a screech from below and she jumped nervously. The cries from the Infected downstairs and outside were making her heart pound. Her hands clenched into fists twice anxiously as she shifted her weight uneasily. Another shiver started at her scalp before rushing to her fingertips and down her spine. Seeking to get rid of the wet clothes she wore, she let her backpack drop to the floor. She removed her machine gun next, setting it next to her bag against the wall. When she began to shrug out of her jacket, the faint jingling reminded her of the stuff sheâ€™d gotten from that body downstairs.<br/><br/>â€œOh!â€ She pulled the jacket off, the chilled air combined with her damp uniform causing her to shiver. She dropped to her knees on the floor. Her hands sunk into the pockets, pulling out a handful of bullets and a weapon cleaning kit. â€œHey, does anyone want any of these...?â€ She asked. She let the bullets fall into her lap. She snatched the radio from her pocket. â€œDo you think this will work...?â€ She wondered aloud, fiddling with a knob.