Fortune City.
Fortune City was gone. The smell of blood filled the air as poor fools who happened to be in the wrong place were being ripped limb from limb. Flesh ripped from bone. Windows were smashed as looters worked their way through every last store. Screams echoed within the Royal Flush Plaza and the plethora of casinos.
The arena was completely over flowed with the undead. People whaled in horror and pain as they saw loved ones pulled into hoards of the demonic creatures. Others that actually managed to stay alive to a fault were pushing away zombies with whatever they could find. Most would die. Others got to the safe house, while the remaining members of the living were scattered across the city.
This was there chance to live. It was obvious no one was coming to their rescue. They all had a chance, those who never got out of the arena, the men and women who made it to the safe house, and those who were left for dead. A chance, a slim, minuscule, sliver of a chance to continue to live on.
To be reborn.