It all happened in an instant. The explosions, the screams. Parents frantically looking for their children. The distant growls and clicks from some unknown threat. What were any of us to do? Simple, make a run for it. Some of us hid in groups and waited things out. As time passed, they soon began to realize that being in a group was becoming dangerous. Some became sick and died, while others, well they just went insane. We began to find that the more of us died out, the more of 'them' increased. The people that remained in groups, were turned on by their fallen comrades. The once dead body becoming reanimated. Those people were so foolish to think that they would survive. Oh how they were wrong. Now, the loners on the other hand, they were survivors. They are smart, cunning, and quick on their feet. While the others died off, they live on. Us, those survivors, we fight everyday just to survive. We have beaten the odds, and proved that we were capable. Not that it really matters. Times are getting tough, even more than it was. It's getting extremely difficult to take care of ourselves. The panic is rising. We try to shake the thought away, but soon enough we will have to group up, the thing we dread the most is becoming a reality. What choice do we have? Maybe we can survive, maybe all our abilities put together will make things a whole lot easier. Even so, what can we do in this world, this world of decay? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Prologue: Maxine The air was cold and dry. Max didn't complain, she had a nice fire to keep the cold away. She had eaten a decent amount of food this morning. The only thing that kept her at her from getting comfortable was the infected. Of course, you never really could get comfortable with those things around. You always had to watch your back, and always be aware of your surroundings. Never know when you'll be surrounded by those ugly bastards. Max was always thinking ahead and was fully equipped to handle such situations. Max had a decent safe house; an old apartment that was free of infected. Well, most of the time. Max had to occasionally eliminate lone zombies wandering about. There were, on occasions, hordes that would pass through the area. They were pretty easy to avoid, as long as you laid low. Max let out a sigh as she sat by the fire, not a sigh of sadness, but one of relief. She had survived yet another day. It's rather depressing to think such a way, but that's how you have to live, day by day, if you want to survive. Max looked at her reflection in a shattered mirror in the room. The fire illuminated her face, but she stared at her reflection, expressionless. She saw herself as neither attractive or unattractive. Appearances didn't matter anymore. There was no longer courting, no dates, no love. None of that mattered. All that mattered was survival. Only a fool would fall for anyone now. All people were, were backstabbers and greedy after all. Max then turned her gaze to the window, it was going to get light soon. She needed sleep, but she couldn't. She couldn't bring herself to sleep. The paranoia was overwhelming, and it left her stressed. She knew eventually her body would give out from lack of sleep, but it was too late to try and sleep now. Dawn was approaching, and she had to go scavenging. Thus is the way of life is now. The same routine everyday. It was boring at first, but if it meant she was surviving, then entertainment didn't matter. There was always a thought in the back of her mind. She knew time would run out eventually, and she would die or be killed. A very morbid way of thinking, but also practical. Everyone dies eventually, right? But Max wanted to die kicking, not to seem like a total badass...but to prove to herself that she would fight to the bitter end. Mors certa, hora incerta. Death is certain, only the time is not certain.