Chris was ducking and diving between houses and sheds, trying to stay hidden. He'd been traveling for several days, and just barely made it into the suburbs of Columbus. Chris had to move slowly, but at the same time he couldn't barricade himself in a house for more than a day or so, or else he'd get cornered.
He'd cautiously peek out from behind garage doors when he couldn't hear anything, but that was rare. Silence was rare. He'd always hear the shuffling feet or the grotesque moans of agony from the creatures in the streets. He called them "creatures" because that's what they were, mindless monsters, no longer human in any way besides looks, and even that was a long shot. He'd usually have to distract them with loud noises of some kind, which is why he carried a set of tiny wrenches with him. Small wrenches make a lot of noise hitting concrete streets.
All he really carried were those wrenches, a ton of canned food, a pistol with one clip, and a nice big red wrench for hitting stuff. He actually adapted well to the world he was living in now, surrounded by dull husks who's only need in life was to feed, which actually sort of delighted Chris, seeing himself as the sole survivor of humanity's purger, a living legend.
Of course, no one was around to see Chris' life, but he didn't mind, he liked the noise, yet silence of the things that were in every home, sewer, and street.
He peek out from behind a fence to look into the backyard, "Sweet, nothing in here" he thought to himself as he hopped the fence.
He went up to the back door and peeked in, he saw a figure bobbing about in the kitchen.
"Hopefully that's the only one" he thought to himself as he readied his wrench and opened the back door. He tried to make the least amount of noise as possible as he snuck up on his helpless victim, who appeared to be a middle aged woman. He held the wrench like a baseball bat and gave one mighty swing, hitting the thing in its head. The blow gave out a satisfying crunch as the figure went sailing to the ground motionless. Chris started walking past it when it grabbed his leg. He quickly let his wrench fly into the creature's head again, and again, and again.
"Fucking hate when they touch me" said Chris to himself.
Chris heard banging on the front door, and the side door, and on the windows. He panicked and ran upstairs, locking himself in a room and putting a dresser up against the door to keep it from breaking.
"I made way too much noise..." he whispered to himself as he pulled out his pistol.
He heard the thump of feet going up the stairs at this point, which procedded to go into every room but his.
Then he heard it.
Creepily, he heard a faint moan from the opposite side of the door, "Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeereeeeee", which was followed by loud bangs on the door.
Impuslively he fired a few shots into the door, maybe getting a zombie or two before he realized that he needed that last bullet for himself.
Before he put the gun up to his head he looked out the window, which faced the front of the house, and was horrified as he saw troves of zombies around the house now, or at least on their way to the house.
He put the gun up to his head and said one final message for deadened ears to hear, "Well, it's all over now".
He pulled the trigger and fell to the floor.