Ever since the outbreak, Matthew Hubble dreaded one thing above everything else, actually, now that he thinks about it, he hated it even before the outbreak, food shopping.
There was something about the city malls that sent a shiver down the old mans spine. Weather it was the obnoxiously large number of shops cramped together in one building or all the "Sale Now On" signs. Matthew grumbled too himself. "In my day we had one shop, and that shop did not have any of this crap floating around". Hubble raised his rifle and put a bullet through the undead man that was running towards him from a pretzel stand.
Hubble took a seat on a wooden bench beside a fountain. He rested the rifle against the bench and took a crumpled list out from his pocket. "Lets see here. Beans. Noodles. Toilet paper. Honey. Chicken." He crossed chicken off the list. "God damned chicken is probably rotten by now."
Matthew stiffly rose from the bench. His old bones cracking under the might of gravity trying to pin him down, but he would fight, he would always stand, even if he was the last living person on the planet, he would stand as tall as he could, and fight against the tide, fight against the inevitable dark dawn.
He walked slowly, limping, towards the entrance of the food court. His stomach rumbled, his head ached, his hands stung, the blisters on his feet burned, but the undead woman running in his direction was about to be a lot worse. Rifle raised, hope gained, he pulled the trigger back. The gun silently clicked.
A look of momentary panic crossed the weather beaten face of Hubble. "Oh that is a fucking joke". He took a deep breath, knowing it may be his last. He twisted the rifle around so that his hands were on the barrel and ran, as best a man of his age could, at the creature. He swung the gun around, connecting with its head. The creature went down, but it was not enough.
Matthew struggled to summon the energy to raise the gun above his head, but he managed it, and let gravity bring it back down on the poor creatures head. This was followed by a splat sound and a minor splatter of blood.
Matthew Hubble took a deep breath and stretched his tired old arms up in the air. "I am getting too old for this shit. This is a young guys game." The old man proceeded to walk towards the food aisles, his limp had gotten worse, his arms now sore, his head ached from the heat.
He reloaded the rifle as he walked. Putting a 6 chamber round back into the gun. He cocked it back, making sure the safety was off. He held the rifle the way he was taught when he was in the military, many decades before.
A small horde seemed to be gathering around a red ooze that was gushing from what seemed to be a large dogs body. Hubble chose the discrete approach and stalked around the horde, still limping, but moving without a sound.
It was going unbelievably well, as he had made it three quarters of the way around the aisle, when he kicked a tin can. The heads of the horde twitched upward. Hubble stood there, he raised his rifle, and fired away the remaining rounds. But he was overwhelmed, he was beaten, he would soon no longer be a man.
His body becoming nothing more than a mindless, crazed, creature.