The sky is gray, thick with clouds, the spring showers about to make their appearance. Buildings stand like broken teeth across the horizon. You’ve grown used to the silence. No birds, no cars, no voices. Just the occasional groan in the distance and the wind whispering through hollow shells of what used to be homes.

Three years since the outbreak. It hit fast, with very few survivors outside of the military.

Luckily, you managed on your off-the-grid farm, wind turbines, and solar panels gave you electricity, and your farm and garden took care of food. The only issue was toiletries and ammo, hence your outing.

Shotgun in hand, you explore the abandoned cityscape, looking for any store that wasn't already raided. But you weren't the only one. While walking silently through the street, you heard footsteps. Too precise to be infected, but the living weren't exactly friendly either.

Your barrel was pointed in the direction you heard the noise before you could even process what it was. Only to find a man doing the exact same thing to you. Tall, built, but most noticeably, a skull mask.