He shrugged, smiled at her, and then turned right back around and began edging his way back to the hole in the fence. Cloth wrapped around his boots helped reduce his noise, so was really just walking with exaggerated care [though in that time, maybe not so exaggerated], and motioned for them to follow. After all, why pass under a zombiething when you can just walk away? As far as he knew, they never looked out the window. He was pretty sure. Mainly sure with faith, but still sure. Pulling the shotgun out of the cut-out-and-fixed hole in his backpack, he held it with one hand, other hand on the hatchet. He had no doubt that something would probably go wrong.

The entire time, he didn't bother to glance back. If she wanted to ask him which was was safe, he was gonna go what he was most comfortable with, and they can tag along if they want. But he wanted a boomcannon ready just in case. So, hatchet in one hand, used to nudge sticks or other possibly-disastrous noisycrackingthings out of the way, and other hand close to the trigger of the shotgun [with the stock wedged under his arm, so that his arm wouldn't cramp], he quickly walked away, around the perimeter of the fence.

I pretty much just repeated the same stuff in two paragraphs.