"Are they humans?" Simon muttered quietly under his breath as he crouched near the window.
His sharp crimson eyes narrowed as he studied the figures moving in the shadows outside.
There wasn't just one, or two — there were at least five, no ten people creeping around the perimeter of the mansion.
He clicked his tongue. "I might've chosen a place that's not ideal for one survivor, but it's perfect for a gang."
The statement, though made with a sense of humor, was loaded with the reality he now had to deal with.
This was no longer a world for solitude. He'd known that from the start, but it didn't make it any easier.
His fingers brushed over the smooth surface of his rifle that lay on the counter.
It was comforting to feel it in his hands, even more so in moments like this. Simon knew he had to act fast.
