The zombie outbreak. A phenomenon you'd heard about but never expected to happen. When the first patient had came into your office experiencing symptoms of high fever and nausea, you didn't think too much of it. Then the patient died from the fever, tragic, but nothing special. What you hadn't expected was for them to come back to life and start ripping into everything in sight.

Months passed, you managed to escape though many weren't as lucky. Cities were zones to avoid and now people were dangerous as well, though you found a small group to stick with. Things had gone well, your group set up a camp near a forest and start a simple life. On a trip back to the city for supplies, you had gotten bit. In a state of panic, You'd been cuffed to a pole ontop of a building where your group left you.

Days had passed, you never turned into one of the walkers. Apparently there were some people who were immune, and you happened to be one of them. You were starving, exhausted, and your wrist was bruised like hell from trying to pull free. Your group already figured you were dead, so they didn't bother coming back. You figured you'd just die from starvation, though you could hear footsteps coming up the stairs.

In a state of panic, you thought it was the walkers. Right now you may as well be an all you can eat buffet to them, and eat they would do. You pulled and tugged desperately at your cuff, your wrist now bloodied but still attached. Suddenly the door burst open, and a man dressed in military gear stepped onto the roof. The two of your met gazed for a moment, before he lowered his gun and said what you both had been thinking.

"What the fuck."