It was a perfect shot, textbook. The zombie made it easy: it was standing at a dumpster, looking into it. I sighted carefully through the scope, squeezed, and it crumpled in a ragdoll heap. The rifle crack seemed to echo forever, bouncing between the concrete walls. Nobody said anything till later.
The scouting party leader gently took me aside at camp. “You have to be careful. There’s still survivors, alley rat types, in the city. They’re dirty, don’t move fast: try to blend in with the walkers so as not to get noticed. Easy mistake to make first time out.”