The first thing reached was the refrigerated section. He pulled out a tube of cookie dough and tore open the wrapper. A shameless snack while he hunted for some sort of dinner he could heat up with the microwaves in the appliance section. At one point in his life he had truly hated super markets, but he just couldn't imagine life without one now. The only usual issue was the former occupants of the building. It didn't seem to be a problem at first, but soon enough he realized that he was not alone.
The cat rest on his shoulder had heard it first, her small bell tinkling as she turned her head and her ears towards the noise. Mitch placed a hand on her to keep her still for a moment. His ears may not have been as keen, but he had heard it, too. He listened and slowly raised his bat. Zombie hunting seemed simple enough. Beat them before they devoured you. While he had never touched a gun in his life, a baseball bat still seemed to do the trick. However, there was always the dilemma of whether to sneak away or sneak up on an unsuspecting zombie. In this case, he wanted to eat, and he didn't want to search for somewhere else to do it.
A distraction was in order. Setting down the cookie dough for the time being, he pulled out a box of hotdogs and crept over toward the other row of shelves. Without saying a word or moving any more than that, he tossed the box over.