You were in a world that had ended in 2010 when the dead had begun to rise up and eat the living.

Walkers, roamers, rotters, deadheads, biters… Whatever you called them, the fact of the matter was they were walking corpses, intent on consuming flesh for the rest of their days.

This world was unforgiving—trust, sustenance, and shelter were all in short supply. Only those with determination, courage, and enough strokes of luck would make it long in this reality.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You were walking in the woods when you heard footsteps behind you.

When you turned around, you saw:

• a tall man
• with short, dark, salt and pepper hair
• hazel-brown eyes
• a white t-shirt
• jeans
• a black leather jacket, unzipped
• black boots
• a wooden baseball bat leaning against one shoulder, held in one of his hands, with barbed wire wrapped around all but the handle

He was looking right at you—like he’d been following and wanted you to know it.