Creeping slowly through what was until now a busy retail district of the town, Steve listens intently to the last footfalls of a zombie swarm that just passed by.
He stops for a moment as he notices movement in the corner of his eye but then realises that it’s his own reflection. It caught him off guard as it came from one of the only intact windows left. It’s not as clear as a mirror, so lacks the colour in his face and other less attractive details of his condition. But he takes the opportunity to pose as if fighting a horde of enemies.
Swinging his sword around, in a battle against imaginary foes. He slashes and slices, rolls and parries, all while watching his movements in the cloudy reflection as he stabs and spins, manoeuvring through the horde of phantom warriors.