Gary Baker is the name of the shopkeeper. He bought this store after his second combat tour in 'Nam with Army Special Forces.

When all hell broke loose in the city, he decided to move into his shop and protect his assets, barricading it heavily. Clearly he has been busy lately.

"So what can I do for you, stranger? If you need some protection from those creatures....my store is the place!"

Of the few survivors who actually decided to barricade their shops and "stay in business" you wonder why this Andrew is one of them.

The store smells like they have been living here for a while.

"I was away for a while as I evacuated my family to the college campus."

"While I was gone someone has looted my store. Now you wouldn't happen to be that someone?"

Clearly the selection has diminished due to high demand for high powered hunting rifles.

The shopkeeper Larry and his family has taken refuge in the store and is trading guns and ammo for food and other supplies.

"Now are you one of those who think you can steal my stuff or are you here to trade?"

There are bladed and blunt melee weapons, piercing weapons, firearms and more.

Olga, a heavy set woman in her sixties, looks into the distance. She is the shopkeeper of this place and has taken refuge here offering trading for supplies.

"My husband, Sven traveled the world collecting these items for people to use as decorations."

"We never dreamed they would actually be put to use."

He is clearly making the living of what ever is rest of his lifetime selling his hugely overpriced gear.

"My stuff ain't for free you know. You can buy some of my stuff or trade items!"

"I don't want to pay anything for that stuff you can find lying all around this crap city though...."

There are sleeping bags and some empty food cans in the backroom of the store.

Jake Elwood is willing to trade equipment, guns and ammo for food supplies and other things of value.

"When the curfew kicked in me and my two boys decided to move in to the store."

"Now what can I do for you? I expect you are here to purchase something?"

They appear to have turned the place into their safehouse.

The man who is in charge doesn't seem to want you to know his name, yet he brags about how they have looted a gun store and are now in possession of a small arsenal of weapons.

The personnel which administer the assets available, seems very interested in purchasing guns, supplies and weapons.

"Most stuff has been looted from the downtown area."

"Some stuff belonged to people who didn't make it."

"Obviously prices are not what they used to be before the outbreak."

"Now are you interested in trading?"

Supplies are scarce and seem to originate from ambulances, pharmacies and hospitals around the city.

You might want to get some pain killers or stimpack for the road.

You wonder if that just might be Helo, Krugmeister and Ebbe, but hard to say.

An elderly man named Mr.Hansen runs the place. Like other few shopkeepers in the city he decided to barricade himself in the store when terror hit the city and is trading his inventory for foods and supplies.

Most of the stuff dates back to the second world war.

The store smells of dust and dirty clothes, giving evidence that he has been staying here for a while.

They are willing to trade items for anything of value but the prices are ten times what it used to be, before the pandemic.

A male clan member is wearing a white sleeveless shirt unlike all the other members you encountered.

As most medical supplies and equipment seem to be in shortage the few survivors taking refuge along with the research staff are keeping a close eye on the shop.

"We have a modest amount of medical equipment and hand weapons available."

"I have been instructed by the professor to listen to any offers from outsiders."

"If you have something valuable, we are willing to trade."

The range of weapons offered is quite impressive including some high powered rifles.

Its owned by a man named Brandon who has converted the shop into his personal safehouse.

The air is thick and the smell gives away he has been cooking and living here for a while.

He has a large scar in his face and two or three fingers missing as he waves you over to the counter.

It seems he has not only taken refuge in his store but actually converted it into his own private safehouse.

"Just about every one of these blades will cleave, cut, decapitate or mutilate anything you stab or swing at."

"Just be careful with the daggers; you wouldn't want to end up like me, huh?"

The only thing off is that there are word spray-painted on a wall with an arrow pointing to the exact spot the Raider is standing on with the words "Buy-Sell-Trade".

Terry Wilson uses the sight on the barrel of one of the guns to scratch his neck, never taking his eyes off of you.

You lean down to see that each gun is in excellent condition.

It appears Mr. Wilson and his family did not only choose a safehouse which is easy to protect but one with some of the most valuable assets to trade.

"You won't find a better selection of hand guns in the city."

Mrs. Germaine looks at you sweetly, her flowery perfume filling the store.

It's pretty obvious that some the military issued weapons originate from somewhere else than the store.

"Do you want to buy or sell? Before Mr. G got infected, he would buy anything but I am not willing to buy what you can find lying around in the city."

"I know the prices of the guns are steep but business is business. Please hurry my dear. I need to make sure Mr. G has not gotten loose."

It appears he has been living here on his own for quite some time.

"Look. Sadie and me, we don't like strangers and this ain't no safe house.

You interested in buyin' somethin' or not?"

He coughs harshly and pulls out a handkerchief to wipe his face.

You notice that the wall around the front door has hundreds of bullet holes and blood stains as if several "unwanted" customers had tried to pay him a visit.

It appears the iron bars in the windows of the pharmacy makes this one ideal safehouse.

"Oh thank you! Another week without seeing normal, living, breathing people and I swear I'd have already swallowed a whole case of Anti-depressants."

"Please take your time browsing through what I offer."

The prices are heavily overcharged like everything else in this ransacked city but the shopkeeper is willing to trade for items.

"Feel free to browse around my store."

"I got plenty of good offers that will keep you warm and provide some protection against those devils outside."

There are quite a few sentries with the barrel of their guns pointing in your general direction.

Nigel has long black hair and a untidy beard. He wears a black leather vest over a what used to be a white t-shirt that doesn’t cover all of his large belly, along with dirty blue jeans and black cowboy boots.

His Rottweiler bares its teeth as you enter the office.

A menacing growl escapes from its throat. Nigel holds his dog’s leash tight and nods at you. He grins at you showing crooked yellow teeth that remind you of the dog’s.

Having barricaded themselves inside an office building they decided to call their safehouse Autumn Leaves, the building's original name.

A Captain named Kubrick is in charge. Though Captain he look more like a hunter carrying a sniper rifle and some hunting gear unlike some of the other marines.

He is coordinating rescue parties and resource scavenging from the HQ.

Originally a dollar store selling useless undesirable items people used to take for granted.

Now those dollar items are worth their weight in gold. Or well at least some of them including their item range of guns.

"If you got anything of use we are willing to trade but prices aren't like they used to be before the pandemic."

He is wearing surplus army fatigue pants and an olive green t-shirt. On the shirt is a piece of tape with the name, "Peter" scribbled on it.

Peter's eyes are bloodshot and he is having trouble standing up.

You find yourself in a large empty room with a camera in the corner and a couple slots in the wall.

There is a large hand lettered sign with prices beside crudely drawn guns. The drawings may not be very good but the guns seem very very good.

So does this security level of this impressive safehouse.

"I give ya da goods and everybody leaves happy. Geddit? Good."

He doesn't seem to have a lot to offer besides former belongings of his customers but seems to have plenty of money to offer.

"Sorry I don't got much alcohol or toot for da snoot but I do have some pharmaceuticals if you're interested."

They are apparently a former regular customer and his younger brother.

They act aggressively, constantly talking about killing zombies. The younger brother keeps looking out through the barricades, taking a shot every now and then.

Like everything else in the city hyperinflation has made the prices go nuts though.

It appears a group of survivors have occupied the store.

They offer a wide variety of footwear from military boots to dress shoes.

It appears a group of survivors have taken refugee here with company of the store manager.

You can see a number of sleeping bags in the back of the store. Looks as though they have been hiding here for a while.

They offer a wide variety of bags from purses to large backpacks.

"If so we can trade you some of these great bags in exchange."

They used to offer last season of some what high profiled brands. Now no one really cares what label the clothes is.

The Woodson family with 2 children have turned the outlet store into their safehouse and are trying to trade the items in the store for food supplies and other things of value.

It used only to be a place where you buy fancy furniture. Now most furniture has been either discarded or chopped into wood suitable for building barricades.

They even offer a few power tools and some canned food.

It appears that store manager Mrs. Finley never got home from work when all hell broke loose and has been staying here with a few stranded survivors.

"Could I interest you in anything?

"We are willing to trade and will pay good prices for food and medical supplies.

An elderly man and his wife have sheltered them selves in their penthouse apartment.

The man wants someone to help please his wife who he is not feeling very well.

The deli has been turned into a safehouse occupied by Eddie who decided not to return home from his work but the deli would be a more safe place.

Eddie, when asked how they have managed to stay open, tells you that they can take just about anything and make it edible.

“We also have a generator and a big freezer".

"People bring us all sorts of animals and we turn them into something delicious. We take cats, dogs, and big birds if you can find them.”

When hell broke loose he never got the chance to leave the store but decided to stay put.

In the back, you hear the hum of a generator and can see an old movie playing on a small television. Lewis leans on the window sill and speaks to you in a whiny voice.

Inside is an uninfected and impossibly thin old man who calls himself “Porter”.

His cell is full of a wide range of items. Seems very odd that he decided to stay put.

“I been her at Dufresne for pert near forty years."

"A guard left my cell door open when the building was abandoned but I couldn’t leave."

"Not sure how that stinkin’ virus missed me. Now--What can I sell ya?”

You find out his name is Arthur.

“We ran out of supplies two days into the pandemic or I would just give you what you need."

"We have had to buy from the local black market so we have to sell it.”

Behind the counter is a man, roughly mid 20’s with brown spiky hair and plastic framed glasses.

His feet are resting on the counter and although he notices you, he seems completely indifferent to your presence.

He is wearing a starched and pressed camouflage military uniform with a star on both lapels of the collar.

The man looks to the soldiers in the room and says, “Give us some privacy please.”

The shop has all kind of hunting gear and outdoor survival gear and clothes available for sale.