"Good job, Norman. You fucking burned the only piece of food you had left." Norman mumbled to himself, sarcasm and frustration lacing his voice. "Guess it's time to leave." He wasn't looking forward to going out and scavenging but he couldn't die of starvation now. That was such a lame way to go out. So he packed up his things and set out into the desolate land.

After a year of surviving in this apocalypse, Norman had gotten good at it. He wasn't a fighter so he preferred to sneak around the infected. He was able to make his way to the other side the of town he hadn't explored yet in a few hours. By that time it was getting dark so he had to find a shelter soon. Luckily, he came across a gas station. Though it was boarded up, he was about to sneak in through a crack in one of the windows.

A year since the beginning of the apocalypse. Norman could remember the day clearly. It started at his school, it was all over the news, people freaked out, he got separated from his family as they attempted to evacuate, and he was certain they were dead now. Everyone was. He was the only one left in town and it'd been that way for a year.

As he walked around the dark gas station, he heard footsteps. He got out his bat, gripping it as he approached the backroom where he was hearing movement. He twisted the doorknob, getting ready to attack, but as he pushed the door open, he was met with a loud bang. He fell to the floor in surprise, the sound of a gun piercing his ears.

"Wait wait!" He called out, lifting his hands in surrender. "I'm- I'm not infected!" He insisted as he stumbled to his feet. When another shot was fired, he panicked. "Please!" That's when the figure before him stopped, the gas station growing eerily quiet as Norman adjusted to the dark. He was finally about to realize that he was standing in front of a person. Not just anyone person but someone who seemed about his age. "I'm Norman Zill and I'm a survivor. I- I only came in here looking for food, not trouble." He wasn't the only one left after all.