Coltrane gave Abbie an affirmative nod as she gestured for him to enter, briefly taking a moment to check and make sure the surrounding suburbia was still clear. Even though he couldn't see any of the dead, every once in a while he'd still hear what sounded like a groan with no way to tell where it originated from; any noise could've come from as far as half a mile away or as close as the other side of the fence, for all the good it was worth, and so he kept a tight grip around the handle of his crowbar as he ducked under the fence to follow after Abbie and Toby and quickly realised the backyard linked to a house with a garage, identical to others in the neighbourhood, with two storeys and a garage. Once he was sure they were in the clear and nothing was lurking in the overgrowth, he quickly looked back over towards her as they pondered on what to do next and suggested "It couldn't hurt to hole up for a little while, see if we could scrounge up some supplies whilst we're at it."

Stepping over towards the towards the sliding glass door which enabled entry into the house, Coltrane took a moment to examine the interior for any sign of a threat, dead or otherwise, only to find the typical ‘abandoned’ setup usually found in most suburban homes in times like such - except for the fact that there was a mummified corpse dressed in office clothes slumped against the couch. It looked like a corpse at least, but looks could be deceiving, so he slid the door about a few inches apart from the wall and lightly rapped his knuckles against the glass as one of the others held the door in place. An awkward pause lasted for a few moments, before he spotted the ‘corpse’ tilt its head and slowly begin to rise from its throne, letting off a groan which chilled the air as it shuffled after Coltrane.

All it could do, however, was just about fit a grasping hand and its snarling face through the gap before Coltrane plunged the flat end of his crowbar through its eyesocket, causing the corpse to fall limp as its weight slid against the glass. Parting the door a little further, Coltrane pushed the body aside with a firm boot and tapped again, carefully listening for any other sign of movement or noise. This time, however, all seemed well. At least for now.

“Alright, watch my back..” Coltrane gestured to Abbie with a handwave as he stepped inside, still weary of anything that might’ve indicated other occupants inside the house, yet all he met was a stale, musty odor that combined with the stench that must’ve been permeating from the ‘corpse’ they’d just disposed of. All in all, it was a nice house - at least it had been before everything had gone to shit. A few photo frames hanging across the wall indicated a family of four living here, one of them being what was presumably the father - the corpse lying by the sliding glass door. Judging by his office clothing and the once-luxurious appliances and furniture that lay strewn around the house, he held a steady, well-paid job and even after all this time, Coltrane couldn’t help but think of what a waste it had all been, to have everything taken from the poor bastard by some god-awful outbreak that had screwed the whole world, whilst an ex-con like himself had somehow pushed through alive and better for it. Funny world, indeed.

After they were certain the downstairs area was clear, Coltrane opted to take the lead once again and slowly made the ascent upstairs, being careful to tread lightly on the steps in case one loose floorboard made a creak which acted as an alarm bell to any other occupants in the house. Once he reached the top, he quickly noticed four doors which ran anti-clockwise along the landing; of which the fourth held a faded sticker plastered across it which just about read ‘Jamie’s Room”. Coltrane shook his head at the notion, and decided to check the doors in-order. The first turned out to be a teenager’s bedroom, with various belongings and articles of the time haphazardly strewn across like you’d expect with someone going through that time of their life. Incidentally, a poster of some rapper of the time before - one Coltrane didn’t recognise - vaguely reminded him of the Tupac and Easy-E posters he’d kept framed on his own bedroom, almost a lifetime ago.

When he moved onto the second and fourth rooms, the bathroom and master bedroom respectively, he met the same musty odor he’d found downstairs, but this time no sign of any corpse, moving or otherwise. In the bedroom it looked as if the occupants had been going about their normal lives before everything went to hell, as if they’d been hit by a storm with no chance to pack their belongings. So far woman he’d seen in pictures with the corpse downstairs was nowhere to be seen, nor was the teenage boy that had been featured in the photo. The only other room which was left to be checked was the fourth, the younger kid’s room. Shrugging it off, Coltrane went through his usual routine of listening for any sign of movement on the other end, before slowly twisting the handle and pushing forward. He peered inside, and a sigh followed.

“Aw man...”

He made an end of it quickly.