You were trudging through a dark forest, your boots crunching twigs underneath your feet. As you walked, you kept a firm grip on your handgun, keeping a keen eye out for any straggling infected. You were injured, just trying to find some sort of asylum in the deadly night.

You then felt your heart drop to your stomach as you heard the click of a gun behind you, your feet immediately ceasing their movement.

“Turn. Slowly.” A voice called out, “Hands up, too. Drop the gun. Are you infected?”