Marcus drove his car up to the abandoned church slowly. He was looking for a friend who needed help hunting a Feral. He had never seen a Feral before. There was something in the doorway of the church. Marcus didn’t draw up his gun; Marcus had a wrench. The thing scrambled toward him, skittering sideways, making an awful sound. Marcus swung, it took the hit, a zombie hit him from behind, he didn’t know it was there. The scrabbling thing swung again and again; it vibrated. It grabbed arms and legs and tore.

Maya helped the sheriff clear out some infested houses. She rescued a survivor who was holed up in a supermarket. After building some goodwill with these neighbors, she doubled back to the house she cleared out. It was the perfect place for an outpost. The problem was that she had to search the entire house first, and so she started doing it. She was impatient. She hurried, and something broke, and then a hoard was on her. The zombies crashed through the windows. She moved toward the door, but there were zombies there too, and she was so tired. They jumped on her back and hit her from the side but she stumbled to her car with a literal sliver of health and drove away as fast as she could. She made it over the bridge. She drove along a lonely highway. Things were looking up. She crested a hill too fast. The car tipped slightly, but it was so fast, and she was thrown. She stood up. She was hurt badly, but she could see another car at three hundred meters away. She could make it. She slung her rucksack on her shoulders and began to creep along the side of the road. She heard a horrible sound. There was rushing. Something was too close, beating her, and then she was torn apart.