As he walked around the vehicle, he peered inside. Cautiously, he reached his hand in through the cracked window, watching the body on the backseat. His heart pounded in his throat as he flicked the lock. Alive, dead or undead? He froze when the lock clicked, feeling like it was so much louder than it should have been. But the figure still didn’t move. He retracted his hand and, quietly as he could, opened the door. Her arm fell freely out and he saw the unkempt blonde hair of a young woman. On her hip was a sheathed knife and on the floor, where her other hand dangled down to, was a gun. It looked like it was police issued, but he figured he shouldn’t be surprised these days what people wound up with.