In response to her request, he simply raised his middle finger at her as he walked back to the door. He was more careful this time than when he had first entered, walking cautiously and listening for any sign of movement. He didn't want to be shot at again.
Stepping over the front-end corpses, Mitchell made his way over to the sliding doors. He pulled them shut, nudging a removed arm out of the way with his bat. Being as tall as he was, reaching up to flip the lock button on the door. There was the possibility that zombies were still roaming the store, but at least he'd have the assurance that no more would be getting in that way. At least not easily. It was pretty hilarious how doors usually seemed enough to keep the undead at bay.
And then it was time to head back just as carefully. He hesitated, but he did grudgingly drag a cart back along with him. However, he wasn't bringing it any further than the other end of that aisle. It was the only thing he was going to do to thank her for something he didn't feel he needed to thank her for. "If you're not one of them, try not to stoop to their level," he scolded, watching her dig at the nutella with her fingers. He had been guilty enough about doing the same when there were no utensils to be found. In fact, he was eating cookie dough out of the wrapper as if it were a push pop just a bit ago. But that didn't mean he felt ashamed enough to not scold her for it. Sighing, he left the cart and returned to the fridge aisles. He still wanted his cookie dough.