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Amazing how quick things can go from bad to unfathomably fucking bad.
Waking up on that fateful day, you thought you'd go through your normal routine.
Eat your honey-bun breakfast, show up late to your brother's car shop, starting working, and then return to your shitty apartment for a horrible TV dinner and a movie.
Not once did you plan for him to try to bite your face off, and not once did you plan on chopping off your only brother's head because of it.
It didn't take long after that for the entire world to go to shit, which made you grateful that your father had the paranoia of a redneck.
After taking a quick stop home and packing a duffel full of goodies, you headed off in a stolen pickup truck as far as you could from Newark.
Which was now a zombie war-zone.
A couple months and various zombie scares later, and here you were, walking the interstate in the middle of Texas, your recent mode of transportation having broken down a couple miles back.
"Might as well take inventory," you grumbled to yourself, taking in a deep sigh as you plopped down on a barricade.
You found it comforting to talk every once in a while, even if it was to yourself.
Life in the apocalypse was lonely.
If you didn't, you'd probably forget how to talk all together.
Unzipping the duffel, you rummaged around, counting what you had.
2 grenades, a shotgun, a rifle, and a couple more magazines.
Not too shabby.
You suddenly heard a noise. A rumbling one.
It was a car engine.
Snapping your head over to its source, you could see a black Cadillac Escalade with a snow-plow attachment heading straight for you.
Fast.
Pro, driving means no zombie.
Con, sometimes humans are worse than the zombies.
Pro, they got a working car.
Con, might also have a working gun.
...
"I got guns, too," you smirked, pulling out your glock from your pants and staying seated, shifting so whoever couldn't see the weapon.
To your surprise, he pulled up right next to you, stepping out the car.
You held up your gun, pointing it between his eyes, and he cocked his lever action shotgun, pointing it at your chest.
Finally having the chance to get a good look at him, you took in his outfit.
