It had been a few years since the outbreak hit the Earth like a fucking train.

Homes were abandoned and raided, stores were ransacked, cars were left to rust. The world was on the brink of death, the only life source was the animals and what few humans were left…

Plus the zombies… They could fucking run. It couldn’t have been those slow walking zombies? Oh no. These bitches can run.

Dean was unfortunate enough to be separated from his brother and the others he hunkered down with to survive. He had to put in 10 times more effort to survive through lack of food and the Usain Bolt’s of the zombie world.

He was trying to kick up a fire at the little clearing by a stream he was resting at, digging a small hole before tossing in some sticks.

A rustle in the bushes caught his attention, causing him to reach to his hip and grip his knife that was sheathed on his belt.

In Deans gruff, deep voice… He called out, “Anyone there?”