Charlie's socks slapped into puddles as he ran, the lights in the tunnels slowly becoming darker. As he ran, he saw his shoes and flashlight sitting in a puddle. He slipped his shoes back on his feet and grabbed his flashlight, turning the power button on. Nothing happened, so he turned it off, hit it a couple times, and tried again. Still nothing. Charlie groaned, but hurried on his way, leaving Boston back in the tunnels. After what the guy had just done to seal his wound, Charlie could outrun him with ease.
Charlie decided he'd get back to the department store and stay there as long as he could. He'd eventually have to move on, he knew that, but when in an apocalypse you never want to think too far ahead. But before he could even start moving, a bunch of sparks shot from circuitry that was keeping the catacombs alight. The light faltered, then everything went dark. "Crap," he muttered.
He fumbled through the dark, banging his flashlight, trying to get it to somehow turn on, but to no luck. He nervously looked around in the dark, but saw nothing. Charlie wasn't about to travel in the complete dark. He'd end up hurting himself and he knew it. So he sat down and rummaged through his bag, hoping the lights would eventually flip back on... or his flashlight would magically get over it's water damage. Either would be great.