"Uhhhh. Hello there."
A soft voice had muttered those words just a few steps behind his back, the hair on his neck stood still, his blood froze in his veins. Mark haven't heard a human voice since he left Denver, since his wife. He wouldn't count his encounter with the people he traded his crackers for fuel as quite the human encounter, it was a silent quick encounter. But this one was different, he sensed innocence in the voice, he sensed danger. Mark slowly reached for his wrench, it was tugged in his side, he made sure it was a subtle slow move. He slowly turned his hips around, and his legs followed. His hand on his wrench, ready to grab it out and strike.
There stood a young girl, redheaded, she looked nice. Awfully young. Awfully in trouble, she had some blood on her clothes. Mark grabbed his wrench and pointed it at the girl. He gestured at the blood then asked her, "Bites?" He slowly approached her, she was clean. It probably wasn't her own blood, it was too dry anyway. But mark had to be sure, this wasn't a paranoid behavior. The dead walk the streets, paranoia is just another word for 'careful'. The girl stood still, she then talked, and Mark listened to her. His eyes constantly scanning the perimeter, he can listen and be vigilant as will. Mark then waited for the girl to finish, and told her "I'm Mark. I don't want to hurt you, but I'm not sure I want you sticking around either, for now we will just walk over to the gas station at the end over there. There might be some water."
Mark put his wrench back in his side and kept walking, he kept a slower pace so the girl could catch up. As Mark was scanning the area earlier he noticed someone in the background, he was motionless, Mark chose not to confront him, instead opted to reach the gas station and look for water. The gas station was a 4 minutes of walking away, it was visible from here. Mark turned to the girl and asked her, "I haven't got your name yet."