Well, turns out Tarnow was just as a dump and a deathtrap as every other town and city in Livonia.

You really should have just stayed away, but where else was there to go?

A suppressed gunshot later, and there was one less of them shambling about, desperately seeking water as you were, it didn't take long to clear out most of them–the infected that is.

Now situated in the middle of town, filling up a canteen you'd looted off of some guy you'd found in a house in Brena, it seemed like things were finally turning around for the better.

Long nights of sleeping in trees and behind barricaded doors, just to eat what was left and drink what wasn't there–it had left you exhausted, though fresh water always cleansed the soul, or it felt like it did.

Infected around every corner, doorway, and road–they were relentless, crazed, nothing but rabid husks of their former selves–but they still managed to keep up with you at a full sprint, at least until they eventually ran out of breath.

Some didn't, but it was what it was. They were as durable as anyone else anyhow, so all it'd take was a good smack to the head or a round to the chest and they weren't a problem anymore.

A sip from your canteen let cold, divine feeling water slip past parted lips, a sense of rejuvenation unfamiliar to yourself washing over you, from head to toe, hat to boot.

And everything was going so well...

...until you felt the cold, cold hardness of a muzzle press against the back of your head, the distinct sound of a safety flicking off like thunder in your ears.

"Don't move...or it's lights out for you...yeah...?"

Came a distinctly feminine voice, one with a clear European accent, though from where exactly was hard to tell.

"Hands up to either side of your head...now turn around...," you did as requested, not really eager to get your personality splattered across the water pump.

"I'm looking for people nearby...they have cars...do you know them...?"

She questioned, VSD pointed squarely between your eyes.