<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Rule 22: When In Doubt, Know Your Way Out</span></strong></span><br/><br/>Hiking along the outskirts of town, Berlin had seen the distinctive roof and emblem of Wally World from a distance, and altered his course towards it. The last superstore he'd seen, two towns ago, had been infested with a massive horde of<em>angesteckt</em>, the infected, and he hadn't been able to get close. This looked more promising, and he crept up the low embankment behind the massive building towards the cherry-red of an emergency exit door. No one, infected or otherwise, was in sight, and he reached the door unimpeded.<br/><br/>There was a moment's pause as he drew his [img=http://australianmuseum.net.au/Uploads/Images/8897/saw_big.jpg]http://bone saw[/img] from its handmade sheath at his hip, holding it tightly in one hand with his other on the doorknob. Under his breath, he muttered a few lines from the Lord's Prayer.<em>"Vater Unser im Himmel, Und führe uns nicht in Versuchung,<br/>Sondern erlöse uns von dem Bösen."</em><br/><br/>He wrenched the door open, anticipating a screaming siren that never came - the batteries driving the emergency exit alarm had worn out long ago. He switched the saw to a two-handed grip as he spotted an infected shambling past the electronics section, and it spotted him. It was a middle-aged man in a checkered jacket, maybe some sort of hunter or sportsman at one time. Now, though, it was a monster, mouth and hands clotted with gore, and it staggered towards him with arms outstretched. He had long since conquered his fear of the shamblers, though, and stood waiting, judging the distance. With at least a foot of height on the diseased man, Berlin had the advantage of reach, and he used it. The outstretched arms were almost an invitation, and a single two-handed swing took the closer one off at the wrist. The zombie barely noticed, but Berlin had already started the backswing, and his razor-sharp blade almost decapitated his foe. He pulled it free before the saw could get stuck in the neck bones - it was a saw, not some mythical Japanese katana - and stepped back as the zombie crumpled. Taking a few steps back, he waited and watched it, then carefully brought the saw down again to finish the decapitation.<br/><br/>With his free hand, he quickly crossed himself, whispering again, "Lort, deliwer ziss zet vas vunce a man into your handz zo dat he may be a man vunce again. Amen." His small suitcase was easy to lift over the corpse, which he shoved into place to prop the emergency door open, and with blood-soaked saw in hand, he crept into the building. To one side he saw the signs for restrooms, and he poked his head inside - first the men's, then the women's, to cover his lines of retreat. Just as he was coming out of the women's bathroom, there was an absolutely fantastic racket from the front of the store, as if the Lord had decided to skip ahead to the end of the zombie plague and start obliterating the world in person. That, or something big had just crashed through the main glass doors. Seconds later, a series of gunshots came from another direction. Clearly, he was not alone - there were fellow survivors, or at least rival looters. He reached the end of the hallway, poking his head slowly around the corner in both directions - left, then right - to see if any infected remained nearby that had not been drawn away by whatever was going on towards the front.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Zombie Kills: 1</strong></div>