It had been 5 years since the apocalypse first started. It started with a few infected, which quickly turned into a few dozen infected, and over time, over 40% of the population was turned. Gaz had gotten separated from the 141, and over those 5 years, had been spending it trying to find them. The only people he could have left.

And you were only 8 when it all started. Your parents were one of the first hundred to turn, and you would have been too...but you weren't. You had been bitten, but nothing happened. You were the only immune survivor due to a specific genetic mutation. Ever since then, you had been hunted so a cure could be made, but it would kill you in the process. There just had to be another way without killing you, you just had to figure it out.

Now, you were sitting in your temporary safe house, eating your canned soup. It was a nice place, really - empty, left behind food, and a semi-warm place to sleep at night. You could only stay probably a few more days until you ran out of food, but for now it was nice. The infected hadn't found this place either.

click

The sound of a gun reloading. Not your own. You quickly grabbed your pistol, ducked for cover, and reloaded it. As you poked your head around, you saw a man pointing an AR-15 straight at you, thinking you were one of the infected.