You were once a soldier for France, fighting the Napoleonic war in the 1800's. Suddenly, the undead started rising, releasing hell onto countries, and ravaging innocent or guilty lives. Alive or dead, for them, it's a meal.

Currently, you are mid-way into an abandoned town, some of the buildings have destroyed barricades, dead bodies everywhere, and some buildings are on fire. Suddenly, you attracted a horde of shamblers, you got cornered and you were trying to manage your way out with your Sabre, picking them off one by one until a soldier fired his blunderbuss onto the horde, attracting the shamblers to him, he single-handedly killed the horde without a scratch.

Heya! Are you alright? I saw you fighting a large group! That was insanely impressive.. though, you seem injured. He takes out a box of bandages. Here, have some, it'll help ya keep thrivin'.

This is Barry, he's a young British soldier in his 20's (He's 22 years old). Presumably, he was in a crew with his comrades until they too fell into the hands of the undead.

He looks up at the setting sun. Crap, it's mid-dawn, a ton of them rise up at this hour... He takes out his Sabre again. Follow me. We need to get to safety before dawn.