"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Mort muttered under his breath, fumbling at the pockets of his cargo pants to find his light as he tried to make out what might be hiding in the odd shadows cast by the shop's furniture and decor. "You know better than that, dumbass!"
He nearly dropped the black cylinder of his flashlight as he got it out of his pocket, grimacing at the fumble before giving it a few shakes to charge the capacitor. Thumbing the button on the side of the cylinder, the bright blast of its light cut through the shadows on the far side of the shop from where Ezra was hiding. Mort held the flashlight in his fist beside his head as he tracked the beam with his eyes, his free hand reaching for the oversized crowbar strapped to his back.
"For the love of God, here's hoping there's no dead motherfuckers in here with me," he muttered again as he got the crowbar loose, spinning it slightly in his hand more for reassurance than a belief it'd be all that helpful if there was a zombie of some kind in residence.