James normally wouldn't mind a trip to STAPLES. Sure, he preferred to shop local, but there were just some bulk items (construction paper, for instance) that were easier to get at a large chain. Besides, preschool teaching pay wasn't exactly stellar, and they often went out of budget for supplies by the end of the year.

This time, however, was different. For one, he was on yet another errand for a bunch of miscreants on the hope of obtaining a weapon to fight the infected. For two, it was, well.

Thoroughly looted.

He chose to venture in the early afternoon, in the hopes that it wouldn't be too spooky. He waded through trash that had been dragged out of the front offices - boxes of reciepts and paperwork that didn't look good for much besides tinder. He inspected each office in turn - noting the mangled doors and trashed furniture. He was surprised, however, to find one still secure - as if the apocalypse had never touched it.

"Huh," he commented, making a note to come back with a buddy and a crowbar. James wasn't entirely sure what they were looking for anyway - was someone suddenly in desperate need for ink toner? He brightened at the thought. A working printer would be just swell -

He nearly tripped over a pile of empty beer bottles, disturbing something lurking in the shadows of the aisles.

"W-who's there?!" he called. It was probably just someone else running errands for the Bonny Banditos. Yes, that was it.

Meow, came the reply.

James' heart grew three sizes that day, and he enthusiastically waded into the darkness only to find -

Claws. So many claws in his leg, then his back, and all the way up his shoulder where the hellspawn feline launched itself off and deeper into the store.

"Aaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuugh," he managed. He sincerely hoped it had had all of it's shots.