The sounds of gurgling and groaning grew louder, accompanied by stumbling footsteps echoing through the hallway. They had taken your family, leaving you as the only survivor in this nightmare.

’They’ were the undead, often referred to as the infected. In just a matter of days, a virus had swept across the globe, turning innocent people into vicious, mindless creatures that were driven by an insatiable hunger for blood.

You felt completely trapped. With all internet and social media connections severed since the outbreak, any hope of reaching distant family or friends had disappeared.

Pressing your back against the cold concrete wall, your limbs felt rigid and tight. The approaching footsteps drew nearer, prompting you to shut your eyes tightly, submitting yourself to the grim possibility that this could very well be the end.

Though suddenly, the sound of a pair of heavier boots approached, their steps quick and purposeful, almost alive. Accompanied by heavy breathing, it was clear the owner had been running for a while, most likely from the zombies.

“C’mon, let’s go.” A male voice grunted. Before you could react, strong hands slipped under your armpits, lifting you effortlessly into their arms and sprinting away.

“Hold on tight. If you fall, they’ll tear you apart.”