James had long since learned to move quietly, it had become a requirement to surviving. If he had been in a group and moved in a team of three or four he could afford to be a little louder, he could count on the others to watch his flanks. As it were though he was alone and had been for a while, if he didn't learn how to be quiet whilst moving around he would have been dead quite some time ago. The duffel bag on his back made him a little more noisier than he ought to have been, but he had learnt to deal with that and had soon adapted to compensate for it. The rifle was a little cumbersome for sneaking and scavenging, James had occasionally thought about ditching it for a lighter weapon, maybe an SMG or something. Unfortunately he had grown attached to the weapon, it's feel felt right, despite it's size. He had also killed his fair share of bandits using it, which added to it's value in his eyes.

James focused himself, he had reached the store he was looking for. He crouched outside for a minute, listening for any sound. Any sound at all. There was nothing. No footsteps, no shuffling, not even a bird in the sky, nothing but the quiet hiss of the cold wind. Next he moved next to the store windows, letting the rifle hang by it's strap and taking out his blade. He found a weak corner in the glass and dug a piece out as quietly as he could, making himself a peep hole into the store. For thirty silent seconds he stared inside, there was no movement. His precautions from the outside were done. He ejected the clip before almost immediately clicking it back in place, making sure that everything was the way it should be. It wasn't just for safety, it comforted him in a weird way, calmed him. Finally he pulled back the charging handle and released it, readying the weapon and himself.

Finally he crept into the store, clearing the place by observing every nook and cranny down the barrel of his rifle. Finally satisfied he geared his eyes towards the shelves, looking for anything that he could safely eat. Much to the disappointment of James the place was mostly empty, but he got lucky when it came to the canned food section, the section that really mattered. He had learned a while ago to stop checking the freezers, the only thing that ever seemed to do was make him nauseous. There wasn't much, nothing on the shelves, it had all been scavenged by the desperate in past months. There were a couple of cans on the floor though, probably knocked by the worried and rushed in their desperate clearing of the shelves. Mentally thanking his lucky stars he picked the two cans he could see up off the floor. One was just a can of beans, Heinz, his favourite. The other was a can of ravioli. By this point James had a smile on his face. He had gotten lucky. Now it was time to move out.