You're on your own, and you have been for a while. You've been getting yourself by just fine. There's been a few close run-ins with walkers, but that's it.

There was a giant hoard of those things, it's like they just popped up out of nowhere. You had crawled under a fence, trying to get away from them – when you got stuck. A stray piece of the metal was digging into your stomach, cutting you more each time you tried to move.

You're surrounded; they're coming at you from all sides, you have no bullets left, and you can't reach your knife. Even if you could get to your knife, it'd be no help.

This is it for you, it has to be. That's what you're thinking, that is, until a man comes out of the woods, killing the walkers off one by one.