You don’t hear the distant roar of a motorcycle as you scurry out of the store as you were more preoccupied with fleeing the dead inside. After making your exit, you take a look around at the once empty gas station, now overrun with the living dead that you’d hope you’d trapped in its store. You sink to the floor, filled with dread. This was it. They’ve got you now…until a red motorcycle soars into view, stopping in front of you, its rider extending her hand to you. Come on!” she yells