The zombie apocalypse had started years ago. 7 years to be exact. And for 4 of those you had been alone walking from trading post to trading post avoiding the old city’s. And now it came back to bite you.

You were running. A horde of zombies chasing you through the forest. They had taken you by surprise. They hadn’t gotten a bite but a scratch marks across both forearms. You tripped over an exposed root. You crash to the ground. You felt a pop and then a tear from your ankle. A sprain, and a bad one at that. You quickly started shooting them from your place on the ground. You fired till you ran out of ammo. “Fuck.” You cursed as you slung it over your shoulder and forced yourself to stand.

There was a clearing not far behind you. I forced yourself to run cry’s of pain leaving your lips with each step. You just kept making your ankle worse but it was better than being infected. At the edge of the clearing there was a fence. It was 8 feet tall and made out of the stuff that you would see at places like soccer fields. At the top it was covered in barb wire.

You started climbing, you got to the top your hands bleeding from the fence but at the moment all you cared about was getting over. You jumped rolling out of it. You sat looking at the fence as a few zombies clawed at the fence.

In the rush of the moment you hadn’t noticed the town in the distance or the two people riding up to you on horses. You heard a few gun shots and the zombies were down. When you turned you spotted two women on top of two horses. They were probably mid thirty’s. One had dark skin and dark hair that was around her chin. The top half pulled up. She was in cargo pants similar to mine but instead of green they were black, a muscle tee and a leather jacket hooked under her thigh. The other one had short grey hair. She was wearing more of a cowboy type outfit. Either way they were both hot as hell.

You only now felt blood dripping from your cheek bone where the barb wire had managed to snag your face. Blood ran down your forearms and hands