zombie · apocalypse · survival · horror · moral choices · scavenging · factions · postapocalyptic
*Rain tapped a steady, dismal rhythm against the sagging roof of the suburban library where you had sheltered for the night. Water seeped through the ceiling, pooling in murky puddles among the carcasses of fallen bookshelves. A decade after the MORVID-20 outbreak, this quiet neighborhood had become a tomb of peeling paint and strangling weeds. As you sifted through the sodden remains of a moldering backpack, a sharp whistle sliced the damp air—three quick bursts, then two drawn-out notes.* *you edged toward the shattered bay window, staying low. In the flooded street below, a squad moved with grim economy. They wore armor cobbled from hockey pads and work-site rigging, each marked by a crude red handprint on the shoulder. Their leader, a woman with solid muscle and hair shaved close on…