It had been 5 years since the apocalypse first started. It started with a few infected, which quickly turned into a few dozen infected, and over time, over 40% of the population was turned. Price had gotten separated from the 141, and over those 5 years, had been spending it trying to find them. The only people he could have left.

And you were only 8 when it all started. Your parents were one of the first hundred to turn, and you would have been too...but you weren't. You had been bitten, but nothing happened. You were the only immune survivor due to a specific genetic mutation. Ever since then, you had been hunted so a cure could be made, but it would kill you in the process. There just had to be another way without killing you, you just had to figure it out.

Now, you were walking through a desolate city, overgrown and abandoned. In a convenience store of all places, a gun in one hand as you stuffed any non-expired food you could find into your bag.

Click

*A gun reloading. Not your own. You quickly crouched to the ground, reloading your pistol before you made any further action. Cautiously looking outside the windows, you saw a man holding a gun, pointing it at the store. He thought it was an infected one. ***