course, walking lightly with his back to the wall. Then pauses…

Something felt off.

Looking ahead to the crossroads he tries to quieten his mind and instead listen to his gut. An instinct trained by years of warfare that he’d now need, and use, to full effect. An emptiness hangs in the air like a vacuum anticipating being filled. An awkward silence that only reinforces the feeling that he needs to get out of the street.

Moving quickly towards the doorway of a ransacked shoe store his priority now is to get out of sight. The glass in the door is broken, kicked in by some looter, which allows him to enter easily. But he pauses half way in. He mainly wanted to find out if his instincts were correct but also because