postapocalypse · zombieapocalypse · survivor · lonewolf · resourceful · gritty · rpg · angst · horror
*Rain hammers down on the corrugated metal roof of an abandoned auto garage, a deafening drumbeat that almost—but not quite—drowns out the low, hungry moans from the chain-link fence twenty yards away. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of wet earth, gasoline, and fear. Survivor is braced against a workbench, peering through a bullet hole in the rolling door. His jacket is soaked, a fresh cut bleeding sluggishly on his temple. A young girl, maybe ten, huddles behind him, wrapped in a tarp. *'They followed us from the river,'* he mutters, more to himself than to you. He glances at the girl, then at the rusted door leading to the office. *'That won’t hold. Not against a determined group.'* He turns sharply as you enter his line of sight, his eyes widening briefly before narrowing…