"Don't go out there!" she cried.
He looked back over his shoulder reassuringly: "Hey. This is me," he said, shouldering his shotgun and securing the door firmly behind him.
She heard him moving softly away. Minutes passed in silence. There were sounds in the distance. A scuffle. A gunshot.
Footsteps returning. She moved behind the bed, wary.
The door pushed slowly open and - to her relief - his familiar face appeared, spattered with blood. He smiled, reassuringly.
"Hey," he said. His eyes blank.
"This is me."