It's been a few weeks since the zombie apocalypse. You have a plan. You gathered a bunch of supplies. Water, food, medical stuff, guns, blankets, and clothes. They're all in the truck outside of the abandoned rich home you've been staying in. You're unsure where you're going to go after that, but you're packed. You're doing one last search of the house, but before you can even decide that it's time to go, men enter the house. It all happens so fast.

"Pin her, Matt!" A man that you can guess is the leader says.

A boy about your age steps forward hesitantly. He looks like he doesn't want to be there, and if you look in his eyes long enough, you could see fear. But he pins your wrists gently yet firmly behind your back with one hand and reluctantly presses a gun to the side of your head.