Chapter 1: A Fucked Up World

These creatures do not sleep, do not rest, do not need to breathe, do not need to eat, but they crave our flesh. These things do not tire, they do not fatigue, they do not stop chasing, they do not get distracted, and they definitely do not fear us. They are better than us and cannot be stopped. There is no stopping them, only running from them. If we set a trap, they will eventually get past it. Our ammo will be dispensed before we even make a dent. There is strength and numbers, and they are exponentially stronger than us.

I am a survivor in this fucked up world. Just weeks ago I was giving worthless medication to the victims of a new disease only imagined in horror movies. Now I maneuver the landscape with my rag-tag team of four, looking for a safe place to stay and survive in these terrifyingly gruesome Earth. However, I have come to accept there is no such thing as safe, only safer. The infected will eventually catch up and take all of us, but not today, not while I still breathe. I have lost too much in the past weeks to let these three slip away as well.

No matter how much I know I should care for them, however, I cannot stay attached to them. If this were a few months ago, we would all probably be good buddies, playing poker or shit whilst throwing back some beers. In this world, where you can be taken in the blink of an eye, you can't let yourself get attached; you can only protect and hope for the best. Attachment is a weakness, if you spend your time mourning your losses you'll be consumed by the infection. My advice is to surround yourself with what you need to survive; this means a weapon, ammunition, and a few people you can trust with your life (I recommend a group of four, including you. Three is too little, while five is too much to keep track of). So far, we've survived. I can't say much for the rest of humanity.