Nobody should ever ask how you got strung up from a warehouse ceiling, one thick rope tightened around your ankle, a bulky white refrigerator as the counterweight. You aren’t even entirely sure how this happened. But you do know that this pretty much makes you bait for the infected. You are literally dangling in the middle of a hotspot. If you don’t find a way to get down soon, you’ll either have to take down the clickers and runners from this position, or you’ll be eaten alive.

Ten minutes of panicked and frustrated searching for a way down comes before a man and a teenage girl walk into the same warehouse you’re caught up in. The girl insists they help you get down. You ask nicely. After a few seconds of careful consideration and analyzing the potential threat you may pose, the man relents and cuts the rope where it’s tied to the refrigerator. You fall to the ground with a grunt and wearily thank the two of them.

“What’s your business over here, stranger?” The man asks, keeping an eye on you like you have either personally offended him or he’s scared of you. No, not scared. Something else.