"What the Hell are you talking about?  My unit is gone." Jake grumbled as he turned around and followed Marcus's line of vision.  He couldn't see anything past where he was looking; there was some sort of garage or tire shop in the way.  He would have dismissed the comment as the ratings of a drunkard, but something caught his mind.  She, Marcus said 'Is SHE one of yours?'.  It had been a while since Jake had seen a woman, so it was at least worth another look.<br/><br/>Jake stayed crouched down and motioned for Marcus to follow him as he crept north on the road, hugging one stalled car to the next to try to get a better view.  Maybe a hundred feet north of his last position, Jake hunkered in next to a old pickup truck and looked over to the Home Depot.  He smiled as he saw what the drunk was talking about now and raised his binoculars to get a better look.  She appeared fairly attractive, wore camo, and carried an M16.<br/><br/>"Well she isn't from my unit," Jake smiled.  He continued talking while handing Marcus the binoculars.  "See the camo pattern is a brighter green, and she has a longer rifle.  Army folks have a more washed out pattern and most of them carry shorter M4 carbines; she's a Marine."  He chuckled a little to himself as he thought that maybe things were looking up.  Too bad he wasn't paying more attention to his surroundings.  As he spoke, a gray, rotten arm slinked out from under the tarp covered bed of the truck.  It silently moved down the edge of the bed and then lunged forward and grabbed hold of Jake's shirt collar.<br/><br/>"What the fuck?!?" Jake shouted as he tried to pull away.  The grip was strong and when he pulled against the arm, it dragged up an attached body.  He spun around as best as he could and could make out a green camo covered arm and a moaning head with a helmet around it.  He tried to bring his rifle up but the quarters were too tight and the muzzle caught in the wheel well.