Dexterity took a backseat to haste when it came to being invisible. Even the most well-balanced of people would falter if they were unsure whether they were about to be lunch, or otherwise assailed by marauders. Leah was one of the most gung-ho Immunes when it came to joining forces with a team and rushing a horde of undead. Alone, though, she was less sure of herself. It wasn't the fear of dying that really bothered her — though she'd be lying if she'd said she wasn't afraid of death — but the fear of leaving her brother and sisters not knowing of her fate.
All this and more filtered through her mind as she prepared to defend herself. There weren't any hands grasping for her, no tell-tale moan that was the hunger cry of the undead. There was, however, a bit of an odor, but that could've been any number of things in the pharmacy. For instance, the zombie she'd beheaded when she'd first entered the building, still laying on the floor where she'd left it.
There was the sound of a male voice swearing, followed by a crash of bottles tumbling over. A living person. The light illuminated the gun in the man's hand. Reacting to the danger, Leah sucked in a breath and held it, prepared to slice him open if (or when) he attacked her. What she wouldn't have given to be looking at a zombie right about now. It was far better than facing down a man with a gun.
He growled at her to turn the flashlight off, but Leah wasn't about to fall for whatever trick he had planned. She did, however, lower the light from his eyes, keeping the firearm in her sight the whole time. It was a very lucky thing he hadn't decided to start firing off bullets.
"I found this place first," Leah snarled. Her voice was rough with anger, as much for the man as it was for her own carelessness. Too many people had guns. It was going to get her killed one of these days.