Sunshine District next door.
Sporting goods store.
Two figures were busily at work in the modestly sized shop that sold ordinary fitness equipment.
Basketballs, dumbbells, etc.
When they first began organizing, the store felt chaotically messy, definitely a remnant of the initial outbreak when the shopkeeper, bewildered by zombies, must have grabbed a dumbbell to smash a zombie's head, leaving dumbbells stained with viscous blood on the floor, and a solidified puddle of it to confirm the tragic fate the shopkeeper met—completely overtaken by zombies.
He knew the shopkeeper, having lived in Sunshine District for many years, and had exchanged a few words with most of the local shop owners. This shop owner was in his forties or fifties, loved working out, and was single.
