Brant ushered the man in from the veranda to the front hall. He introduced himself as Damien and his dog as Lobo, Brant thought it an odd name, but would rather not make snide remarks with a stranger he just met who was wielding a pistol. As the door was about to close, a yell from outside drifted through the air and into Brant's ear. "room for one more?" was all he caught. He rushed back to the door propping it open again. There was a short lady, with black frizzy curls for hair.
"Quick get inside, too much noise out here already!"
He took a quick view of the outside standing on the veranda as the woman went in, there were more than a few, maybe three dozen walkers now coming up to the fences.
Fucking brilliant, now we can't leave Brant thought to himself.
He came back into the hallway. Looking at the man and his dog, "Your gun really got em' roused! Had a nice sleep here last night. That corridor leads to the cells... err, well I think anyways."
There was banging on the door, groaning, grunts, howls, at least one was right on the other side of the door.
"Come quick. Introductions later."
Brant dashed over to the door leading to the stairwell. He opened the door, the stairwell was pitch black, no windows, no light coming in from the parlour, and barely any coming in through the now opened door of the hallway.
"It's safe, I swears. Right across hallway is a parlour, it's clear, I slept there last night. Don't know about up the stairs or not though. Might be a basement haven't really checked."
Brant led the charge through the darkness, bumping into the wall on the end of the stairwell. Feeling his way along the wall, he found the door handle, and opened it to the parlour. Light filled the stairwell from the parlour and Brant dashed inside.
"My name's Brant, Brant Harlow, I came into this place yesterday. Seem's relatively safe, better than outside at least. It's a pleasure to meet you Damien. Wish it coulda been under some better circumstances, but things ain't going so good lately. Obviously."