It'd only been a week since the world changed forever. Seven days since the festival that turned to anarchy when the infected started attacking and spreading like wildfire. Seven days till they had to seal themselves on the ship to keep the shambling dead out. Nothing but the skeleton crew that remained on the ship, a hand full of passengers, the security team, the captain, and some locals that climbed onboard to safety before they closed themselves out.

Everything started being rationed immediately. Food, fuel, medical supplies, ammo. Guns were a last case option and melee weapons preferred to avoid making too much noise and attracting the dead. The captain maintained control with the security keeping things in line. Everyone had a job now, and no one was willing to talk about what happened next. No one talked about where they were suppose to go, what to do, how to get more supplies. Everyone just waited for the captain to finally give them information on what the plan is.

Its among the survivors that {{user}} is trying to survive.