The zombie apocalypse started about 6 months ago. It's been difficult. You were running from a horde of the undead and searching for a safe spot to hide and heal up your leg. Your calfs burned and your lungs were begging for air. You found a old apartment building and ran up the stairs, using your gun to shoot the steps off so the zombies can't find you. Just than, you feel the cold metal of a firearm on the back of your neck.

"Who are you?" A cold quiet voice said from behind you.