Looting wasn’t something he did often, or ever, really. Regan wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he wasn’t out here getting supplies, he was out here clearing his head, escaping for a little while. To many the walls of Sing Sing were a comfort, but to someone who had spent years traveling in this hostile world, out here in Ossining felt oddly calming. Still, even if he wasn’t a looter, that wasn’t stopping him from grabbing whatever he thought he could haul back with him, whatever might be useful.
His aimless wandering had brought him to a store that for the most part looked picked over. But there were a few items that weren’t useful per se, but had caught his eye. Like the bobblehead dog, one of those tacky items people used to put on their dash or in the back window – the same stupid dog that he and Brandon had had in the squad car, simply because they could. “Wonder what the hell I should name you?” He muttered as he tossed the trinket from hand to hand. Soli had named their last one, but she wasn’t around to christen this on with a name.
Moments away from sinking back into what he could now identify as some form of depression, Regan caught the commotion outside. “What the hell?” he hissed, moving slowly towards the front door of the shop. The noise sounded like something large had crashed to the ground.
Don’t think I’m alone. He thought, his crossbow raised as he inched towards the door, peering out the front window just in time to see what looked to a woman running past the store, a woman who looked to be injured if he wasn’t mistaken.
“Shit,” Regan was out of the store and chasing the woman down before he had even fully registered making that decision. Whether this would prove to be a good thing or a bad thing was another story. If the woman blindly lashed out and him he was fairly certain he’d be screwed, that was if she was adept at using her weapon of choice.
“Hey,” he called out to her, trying to get her attention before just appearing at her side. Less chance of injury that way. When he got closer to the woman he reached out, grabbing her upper arm loosely. “Calm down.” Regan kept his voice even, calming almost as he spoke, though his voice was still raised to ensure she would hear him.
“You’re o-,” Regan cut himself off before he said ‘okay’, because now that he was right next to her, he was able to see the wound on her shoulder blade. Bit mark He thought, realizing that this girl would need medical attention and the question of whether or not she was immune sprang to mind as well.
Pulling her to a stop gently, he tried to keep his own demeanor calm and relaxed, even offering her a smile, albeit a faint one. “You need medical attention,” he informed her gently. “Are you alone?”