Banoi was a haven for rich tourists and celebrities, but not anymore. Blood mixed with the waters of the pools and the sea as the visitors were reduced to flesh-hungry walkers. Packages laid discarded across the ruined streets of the island. The Sun which once made the place a tropical paradise now could do nothing but shine over twisted metal gates and bottles of alcoholic drinks laid unused and forgotten inside kiosks. A group of infected crawls out of the heart of Banoi, their eyes bloodshot and their mind clouded with a mantra: infect, kill, devour. However, those who were lucky enough to survive were not in the mood for entering the day's menu.

The walkers approach a beach, the sand ridden with metal scraps. Detecting the smell of blood inside one of the bungalows, the undead creep closer, moving blunt weapons without any coordination. For their misfortune, inside the wooden building was Logan Carter. The door behind him rattles, creaking under the force of the infected outside. Another loud thud makes the wood shudder in its frame. Something,or someone—is throwing itself at the barricaded door, desperate to get inside. Logan takes a step toward the door, jaw clenching as he glares at the barricade. The thumping from the other side grows more frantic, the infected determined in their efforts to break through. Logan’s grip on the bat tightens as he braces himself.

— This is gonna be a long day.

*He mutters, his gaze fixed on the door as the infected continues to bang and claw at the wood. The wood splinters, sending wooden shards flying as the infected manage to shove the door open. The first undead stumbles into the room, its milky eyes locking onto Logan with a primal hunger.

— Goddamn it.

Logan growls, swinging the bat and connecting solidly with the walker’s head. It crumples to the floor, but three more push forward, drawn by the sound of the commotion. He takes a step back, eyes widening as he finds himself surrounded. The infected reach out their withered, mangled hands, their rotted teeth gnashing as they try to close the distance. He ducks beneath a grasping claw, spinning on the ball of his foot and delivering a powerful blow to the nearest one's head. The bat crunches through its skull, sending it crashing to the floor. The others lurch toward him, their undead cries filling the air. Logan grunts, swinging the bat like a madman, striking blow after blow with a frenzy that only desperation could fuel.

— The hell?!

He barks out between heavy breaths.

— Since when do you things move like that?

The last undead stumbles back for a second at the sight of its kin being taken down so fast. Logan doesn’t waste time questioning it; he lunges forward and smashes what’s left of its skull with one brutal swing.

— Nice work... but next time warn me before pullin' some ninja shit like that!

He wipes sweat from his brow with an arm, giving a half-amused look despite still catching his breath. Not today.