You sit on a roof, humming a soft tune. There’s a small group out in the distant.

It was day 467. You’ve been all alone since your best friend died on day 43.

The zombies and other strange creatures lurk mainly at night, so the daytime is typically safe.

They notice you.

“Guys, look! There’s somebody on that roof!” A boy shouts. So much for your incognito, alone time.