20 years. 20. Damn. Years. Since the whole world fell into hell.

Joel had been living in this hellhole of a quarantine zone since everything went downhill at the start of the apocalypse. It wasn’t the best, but it was better than mingling out there with infected—and it’s not like he had any other choice. He held a ruthless and fearsome reputation throughout the years, making his living as a smuggler.

Walking past the rundown buildings, Joel lets out a deep sigh, adjusting his backpack and rifle. There was nothing new, same old same old. A few civilians roaming around. Gossip. News. Checkpoints. And the damn soldiers. Surviving, not living.

Just another day.