Ezra was aware of the girl long before she was ever going to be aware of him. He'd been tracking her as she went, a quiet progression on his part even if she'd made a ton of noise in the car. Or, well, a ton of noise to someone like him, who's main passion in life seemed to be entirely centered around being as silent as possible. But she'd caught his attention, and he'd made his way closer, following. Sure, he wasn't quite sure why he was following her in the first place, but that didn't stop him. Ezra often did things without thinking them through properly first. Instinct had become far higher up on the priority list than sitting and pondering things.
Reaction time was key. That was something that did better when higher thought was left out the window, when he was running on far baser mental programming. So, he'd seen a very beautiful girl, who looked oh so very much cleaner than anyone he had seen in probably months now.
He was curious what she'd been doing inside the store, and had even gotten closer to see if he could suss it out. It had put him nearer than he ever usually let himself get to anyone he didn't recognize. Belatedly, he also realized he'd been just a little sloppy with his attention on her. A runner was in the area. He'd known that previously, but hadn't done anything about it because it had been out of his way (something he'd apparently cared about before he decided to ditch everything to stalk random women), and it had turned up, of course.
Stupid fucking runners.
As he stepped out from around the corner of the building, behind her, he also saw that there were three other zombies that were inconveniently located. He rushed past her, seeing she had the runner under control. He took on the shamblers. Ezra wound up a swing of his heavy splitting maul, his weapon of choice, so that by the time he closed the distance, he had a lot behind the strike. The blunt edge of it cracked right through the jaw and half of the face of the closest one, dry cracks loud in his ears. The second blow buried the axe head in the side of another's head, accomplished with a practiced loosening then tightening of his grip on the weapon, letting momentum spin the tool in his hands fast without his having to think about it.