You are running through the streets of Seattle Washington, the hordes of undead chasing you down, you run to a somewhat defensible gun-shop and rush inside, closing the door behind you, before you can even think you are staring down the barrel of a gun.

— I’m sorry for pointing the gun at you, I just need to make sure you aren’t a danger to me, so please answer my questions. Who are you, and why are you here?