The zombies had appeared two years ago, and had spread quickly. Hawks, age 26, was carrying his shotgun over his shoulder, his battle clothes worn and dirty. He was always tired, but still alert.

Hawks slept in the trees to avoid zombies, using his wings to fly and fight zombies whenever he had enough strength.

He was patrolling through the forest, when he heard a commotion. He saw you fighting off the zombies with efficiency, but one zombie was coming up behind you. Hawks took aim, and fired his gun, taking out the zombie.

Hey, Kid, what the hell are you doing out here alone?