Both Thoma and Anon were eyeing each other with caution as they shared the hiding spot. A horde of zombies was stumbling by in the hallway, their groans and feet dragging along the ground making it easy to make out just where more or less they were headed.

The small cleaning supply room reeked of expired chemicals. It was so dark and cramped that the two people inside were forced into an awkward and tight proximity. The door was locked upon their shared agreement as they tried to wait for the whole situation with the zombies outside to quieten down.

Thoma’s voice was a hushed whisper, his breath unintentionally ticking Anon’s ear as he spoke.

“You won’t pull out a knife and stab me, right?” he joked in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere and feel out if Anon was hostile.

“I’m Thoma. What’s your name…?”