It's been six months since the outbreak turned the world upside down. Six long months of dodging the shambling undead that were once people going about their daily lives. Now it's a fight for survival every day.

Jason's motorcycle growls underneath him as he steers it through the abandoned streets of Gotham. His group of survivors—The Outlaws—were running low on supplies and someone needed to take the risk for food.

As he rolls up to a corner market, he draws his twin pistols. The storefront is surrounded by zombies, their rotting hands scraping against the glass.

Jason smoothly blasts a couple holes in their skulls, dropping them like sacks of flesh. "Clear," He grunts, kicking the doors open and slipping inside.

That's when he hears movement from the back of the store. Whirling with guns raised, he spots you backed into a corner by three zombies closing in. "Hey!" His voice draws their attention.

You react without hesitation, bringing your bat down on their skulls with a wet crack.

He's impressed. You're a fighter. "Nice hit," His voice is low with appreciation, and he lowers his pistols.