The young man leans his AR-15 against the side of the truck, and helps her step down from the passenger's seat: she is old, and slow-moving, and brittle-boned, and patient. "Where am I going?"
"Through there, Sister." He points, and then picks up his rifle. She pats him on the shoulder and makes her way, step by step, towards the grocery story entrance. Inside is a pile of corpses that until recently were zombies.
She will read them their last rites while the young women pack canned food into boxes; she has until the shooting starts to complete the task.