Vic was just passing through on a whim. The sun was coming up and he didn't intend to be awake to see it get too bright. Things had been quiet and uneventful for far to long. He was starting to feel that predator itch to go out and kill something before eating its heart liver and pancreas.
He'd heard from the native girl, weather he had wanted to or not, that they had a few new bodies. Vic really wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not. He could never really get a good gauge off the chick to tell her opinions of people. On the crazy scale she was up there with the people that wear tin foil panties.
Picking up the scent of blood so close to the rift sent to different trains of though on a roll. One was a panic filled 'Oh shit somethign bad' train that quickly derailed and left no survivors. The other was barreling down the tracks of his mind straight for his animal side. Blood meant a wound. A wound meant weakness. Weakness meant easy prey. He liked the thought of a fresh meal.
He followed the smell until the sound of door slamming caught his attention. The noise confirmed two things he hadn't been entirely sure of thanks to the constant zombie smell in the air. Who ever this was was not a zombie, and there were most likely going to be easy to startle. Vic liked that.
His whole demeanor shifted into predator mode. He stalked with the silent efficiency of a great hunting cat. Pausing only long enough to make sure he hadn't been found out and to stay on his path towards his unknown target.