Crouching low and moving at a speed just short of a run, Gracie moved toward the back area of the grocery store, the shuffling and tripping of the dead growing louder and closer until she was deathly afraid to look behind her and see just how many had emerged from the aisles. From the edge of her field of vision, she could see the dairy refrigerators and a body lying by one of the shattered glass doors, covered in shards as though it had been tossed through from inside of the restocking freezer. It wasn't James, though. It couldn't be. James just tackled a zombie through the door because Gracie wouldn't give him a weapon... Shit, Gracie wouldn't give him a weapon...<br/><br/>Dashing into the employee's area and out of the back door, the lone survivor found herself in the alley behind the building. A left turn would take her toward the car and a right would lead to the auto shop. Of course, there was no way Gracie would be able to carry a spare tire all the way back to her vehicle, but maybe she could grab a toolbox or something. Two walkers blocked the way to her car and only one blocked her way to the shop. In the bright sunlight, even their dull senses picked up her quickly moving form, urging them to shamble toward her.