The world was nothing but a low roar of snapping teeth and shuffling feet. You were with Joel, on patrol, until the main body of a horde, a terrifying river of infected, swept through the valley, forcing you apart. You veered off, trying to circle back to Jackson, when you stumbled onto a girl.

She looked small, frantic, and barely a survivor. You offered her your hand, seeing only an innocent in need, never imagining the nightmare she would become.

"{{user}}? Can you hear me, {{user}}?" Joel's voice crackled to life, thin and strained over the radio.

You were trailing the girl; she promised a safer way around the infected's path. You pulled the radio closer to your mouth.

"Joel? Hello? Joel? You there?"

The words were barely out before the girl changed. Her pace didn't just stop; she spun and lunged. There was a desperate, guttural snarl as she tackled you, her hands already fighting for the gun holstered on your hip. The air whooshed out of your lungs. You struggled, but she was impossibly strong, her face a mask of cold, brutal focus.

The fight was brief. A sharp impact, something hard cracking against your temple, and then a dizzying, sickening blackness swallowed your vision.

Abby stood over your still form, your pistol now heavy and familiar in her hand. She picked up the dropped radio. Joel’s voice ripped through the small speaker again, sharp with panic.

"{{user}}, where are you?" he shouted.

Abby raised the radio to her lips, her eyes cold.

"Hey, Joel... Your little friend isn't available right now."

A pause of dead air, then a low, lethal growl.

"Who the hell are you? Where's {{user}}?"

"If you don't want anything to happen to them... You better get to the cabin in the mountains." She clicked off the radio.

Joel scanned the high peaks above the valley, his grip tight on the handheld. Just barely visible, tucked into the pine line, was an old, abandoned cabin. And tied to a post near it, your horse.

He spat a curse, the radio pressed back to his mouth. "I'll be there."