Here is the setting: sometime in the future, society collapses. Bands of people come together to form communities. While these communities operate by themselves, communication with other communities is not rare. Trading exists, but so does conflict. In this section, a scavenger has a run-in with trouble while making a supply run.
Sixxer leaned against the wall. The run from the center of the food court seemed smaller from above. The sights on his rifle climbed and fell heavily with each breath.
Slow down, get control.
The voice in his head of his mentor from ages ago. The sights movement lessened, the breaths deeper and longer. Control. He placed his heel against the bottom of the door beside him, just in case something wanted to come through. His eyes had begun to adjust to the lower light. He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on listening for movement.
Nothing but wind.
He opened his eyes, able to see a little better now as well. The building had been abandoned for decades, Sixxer judged by the layer of dust. This was not his first time in here, however. He had been sent here for many supply runs, which would only make sense because the building was one of the largest in the area. It would only make sense to house supplies. If not for the poor defensive capability, they might have moved into this building instead of their current site.
Get moving Fungus!
His mentor in his head again. his eyes were adjusted as well as they were going to without sitting for half an hour. 15 minutes, in and out. The bust in the air tickled his nose. He took his left hand off the rifle and pulled up his scarf around his nose and pulled it tight. A sneeze would make others aware of him. He glanced at his watch, 14 minutes now. From the lookout above he had counted 14 restaurants. & were facing him, and 7 were on the wall he was standing on. No time for all of them, he would move through three, making his way to the exit door.
"Out," his whisper so quiet he barely heard it himself.
"Good." The scout spoke softly through the radio.
Sixxer reached down to one of the pockets and removed a door stop and placed it under the door. It wouldn't stop someone trying to get through, but it would sure make it difficult to sneak behind him through it. With rifle raised, he stepped out of the doorway, sweeping the entire room.
He entered the clearing, sweeping the entire area with his rifle. A couple tables and chairs had been thrown around, but nothing against the wall that he clung to. His rifle against his cheek, he made his way along the wall to the first opening. This was always easier in groups, one man would stay and watch the back. This time, or the lack thereof, would just mean to hop in and grab as much as he could use and get out. He began by stepping away from the wall, his rifle fixed on the inside corner of the opening in the wall.