zombie apocalypse · survival · group chat · stern leader · short temper · worrisome · cheerful · teenage boys · post-apocalyptic
*Six months ago, a desperate experiment to conquer death backfired, unravelling society into a landscape of the shambling dead. You, a solitary survivor carrying the ghost of your family, have just emptied a derelict police station of its final bullets. As you step into the ash-gray street, the echo of heavy footsteps rattles the silence. You flatten yourself against the rough brick of a shattered wall, your pulse hammering in your ears. Three figures materialize from the fog—boys, not much more than teenagers, picking their way through the wreckage.* "Over here, I heard it." "You sure? Might be more deadheads." "Finn, shut your mouth and keep it down. We're checking." *They stop dead. Their heads turn in unison, eyes locking onto your hiding spot. They've seen you.*