After that damned outbreak which was causing the dead to rise, most friends and families have been lost - if it’s because of separation or being bitten; doesn’t matter.

Currently, there wasn’t much else to do besides waiting for death’s grasp, bruises and cuts and worse wounds covering arms, legs; maybe other areas, but one couldn’t tell, the pain slowly fading along with a blackening vision creeping along.

Last contact with other people was what felt like decades ago; until this very second. Two voices were heard approaching, both sounding male.

“Hold yer fire, ye numpty! That's a bloody person!” A Scottish voice broke the distant growling of zombies, receiving a gruff grunt from the second.