Jake tucked in against the side of the truck as he looked down the ruined length of Route 8 towards town.  He thought he heard something break the silence of the now dead town, but his careful visual scan revealed nothing as the red dot of his sight traced back and forth.  He lowered his rifle, convinced his nerves must be getting to him when he heard the familiar wop-wop-wop of a helicopter approaching.<br/><br/>He remained hidden in the bed of the truck as the chopper flew over.  Jake noted it wasn't military, and judging by the under-slung searchlight it looked municipal.  He flinched as it made a loud noise and dropped into auto-rotation.  He raised himself up in truck bed, completely forgetting the earlier noise, to get a good view.  He saw the aircraft wobble and finally set down in the parking lot of a large WalMart.<br/><br/>"Fucking racket will wake the dead," Jake grumbled as he carefully got down from the truck and made his way towards the landing site.  He kept his rifle at the ready, in case the new noise drew any wandering dead.  He knew that chances are most local wanders were drawn to the explosion last night, but you can never be too careful with the dead.   They may not be smart, but if you let your guard down you're bound to get bitten.<br/><br/>He walked down the center of the street, being sure to keep enough stand off distance to avoid an ambush but he always had a car in mind between himself and the copter if he had to take cover.  Who knew what nutjob was flying that thing.  At about a hundred meters south of the intersection, Jake could make out a male form leaving the helicopter but not before throwing a bottle on the ground.  He cringed as he heard the glass shatter.  Even though it wasn't nearly as loud as the chopper, there was something about the sound of breaking glass that could carry for a long distance.<br/><br/>He saw the man walking in his direction carrying a shotgun and a backpack.  He looked a bit like he walked out of a Jimmy Buffet concert, complete with a hangover.  But he remembered that looks could be deceiving.  He chuckled as he though of an old Marine plaque he saw when he was in the Sandbox, "Be polite. Be professional. But be prepared to kill everyone you meet."  Time to put it to good use.<br/><br/>Jake stood up from behind the car and raised his hand in the air, gently waving it back and forth.  He figured he was still out of the effective range of a shotgun but should be easy enough to see.