Carson sighed as he pulled a zombie into the alleyway and punched in it's nose. It wasn't the same as hitting a person, not as satisfying or stress relieving. Unfortunately his odds of finding another raider ready to take him on were slim as the chaos had settled in and all that was left were the sparse humans left fighting for there lives and they weren't worth his time. As he pulled out his map carsons fist clenched and he threw it down before picking the map back up. He was no were near the shore line, and he was running low of fumes. The lack of sleep and food had taken it's toll an carson was winding down, he knew that if he let his guard down to rest he would be a goner but he had no choice. As he wandered on he noticed a church. Normally he would not take the risk of searching the place, as they were unprotected, carried little of use, and easily were full of the undead. But the murmurs drew him in, they seemed like people... maybe raiders. With his crowbar ready carson opened a door silently and tiptoed in. Only then did he notice the people, they were packing. He pulled his pistol out, it was small and he truly only had three shots and with the caliber of the gun it couldn't even completely kill someone with a single shot but he used it to flash at anyone who tried anything.
Slowly he began to step towards the other.