An unseen man moved through the backyard of the house, moving silently beyond the fence. Peering through broken slats, he had spotted and targeted both a lone Clicker, and a pair of peering eyes from his targeted house.

Moving silently to a section of the wooden fence that had been run over by... something, the heavy-packer picked up a fallen board, carefully ensuring it made no noise, and then tossed it at the opposite stretch of fence. The clatter wasn't too loud: any infected in any of the other houses wouldn't of heard it, runners more than likely wouldn't notice, and only a clicker in the yard he had thrown the board at would notice.

But, it was enough for the clicker in this particular backyard to take the bait. It snapped to attention, facing the direction of the board, past the unseen man's hiding place against the fence. As the clicker slowly approached, the man readied his hatchet.

As the clicker stepped past the fence, it stopped, suddenly curious about a very low, whistling sound. The next moment ended its strange, lonely, desperate life from a hatchet imbedded in its face. The depth of the cut made the hatchet stick to it, so thankfully, the clicker didn't just fall down, and instead, the man managed to catch it, and gently lower it to the ground. If a human were listening closely enough, they would make out a very light, short, unusual prayer to lay the clicker's previous soul to rest. 

And then the man was up, yanking the hatchet out of the clicker's face, and moving towards the house, sticking to the fences and walls, raising a hand in friendly greeting to any who might be watching.