Anyone else who found themselves stuck for months in another country during the apocalypse might spend time crying. Connor has no such inclination. He loves sprinting along the rooftops, and by now, he knows the streets by heart. Rumor has it that some people are trapped in the old library, and Connor is ready.
He pulls out his sword, a pawn shop find that was as close to a Claymore as he could find. He shoves the tip into a gap and leans on the handle, prying up the skylight. Then he whoops and drops down onto a bookshelf.
He raises his sword proudly. "It's no Claymore, but it'll do. Who's up for something daft?"
The four people in front of him only stare for a moment. They can hear the horde on the stairs outside the room. Connor hops down as each person climbs up the bookshelf until they can escape through the skylight. Connor slowly opens the door and uses his sword to bat a large coin out into the hall, where it clangs down the stairs. A temporary distraction, but good enough.
He scrambles up the shelf and lifts himself onto the roof, smiling and waving at his new friends. "Come on, then. The rooftops are calling, and I've still got a whole city left to go."