The softest scuffle of shoes coming to a stop on the marble floor told Leah only one thing about her visitor: it had heard her. It was unknown whether or not a zombie's ears were still capable of hearing sounds like the living. There were countless theories on the subject, but the only thing that Leah considered important was the fact that they were, indeed, drawn toward the slightest of sounds. That damn creaky door had given her away.
Had she not been listening for them, the slow, calculated footsteps advancing on her hiding place would've gone unnoticed and she would've most likely found herself in a tricky spot. Not that this wasn't tricky enough, skulking among the shelves, keeping to the darkest areas of the pharmacy, but it was worse knowing that her presence had been detected. Zombies could see in the dark — or at least sense things — but humans could not. There was no flashlight beam directing the intruder, either, so that gave her a little comfort.
Leah peeked around the corner of the farthest aisle, noting the position of the intruder. The contents of a small cardboard box rattled — sounds like something found the Band-Aids. Either the zombie had paused for a "rest" and had leaned against a shelf, knocking over the box, or else it was a human snatching supplies.
She let out a quiet huff of annoyance at not being able to tell whether her visitor was decomposing or looting. It started moving again, a little more quickly this time, as if maybe it could sense her there and was eager for a meal. Zombies were always eager for a meal. Good thing they weren't fond of fast food.
By the sound of it, whatever it was was heading for the door she'd left open, which was good because the distraction of the empty room could be just the thing she needed to further her advantage. However, that was before the intruder honed in on her hiding place. Leah jerked her head back, but too late, the thing's footsteps were already approaching. Nor did it help that her sudden movement had caused the shelf she was hiding behind to rock. She'd just lost the advantage of surprise.
Releasing a calming breath, Leah, crouched between the aisle of ointments and lotions, readied her flashlight and machete. The instant the footsteps were near enough to her hiding place, she sprang up, raising her machete and shining the flashlight's beam on the intruder's face. Her body tensed for the lunge of rotted hands, the excited gurgling sound that came whenever a zombie located a fresh meal.