ONE YEAR LATER

The four huddled in the cabin. Attaching their suppressors and cocking their guns. Rowan didn't particularly enjoy guns but he always kept a pistol tucked in his back pocket, though he never used it. "Get ready." Bravery said. Pritchenko still was with them; only one more male joined their team since then. They saw the poor guy in a puddle of his wife's blood. Each one of the people in this small group had lost something. They had joined other survivors and other groups and camps, but Pritchenko always caused trouble with the leaders, simply because he didn't speak, and silence is bad to people nowadays. Silence means no trust, no trust means violence at the drop of a dime. Pritchenko kept a sniper rifle with a hybrid site on it, but since the site no long worked due to a lack of battery, he used a thin lined sharpie to create a reticle, he'd frequently take it off to engage the zombies close quarters. Bravery really lived up to his name, or sometimes lived up to the name "Stupid". This guy would improvise claws. Whenever he found a welder, he welded nails and or whatever scrap metal he could find to his brass knuckles, he made some bars that he wrapped his fingers around and a cage that sheltered the hand, and out the outer sides of the cage he would put spikes. (Refer to claws from Dead Island to really see what I mean.) He also used a machete. Poor Bravery was beat up when they found him, no cuts, but tons of bruises.

Rowan took out his bat (that Bravery had put a blade on the outer portion of) and got ready to make a break for the car. The four of them bashed the door to the cabin open, and rushed them. They started smashing down all of the zombies. With each swipe, heads were falling off, why? Because that's the only way to kill them. There's no reviving them, no cure. Why? Because they were dead and rotting. They got into the truck and booked it. They sped down the dirt road as fast as a Toyota Tundra would take them, but as they sped down, a car sped past the road. The four of them looked at each other, and Pritchenko, who was driving just put his foot to the floor and attempted to catch up to them. The car in front of them was also a truck. There were 3 people in there: Three men.

They looked back and started shooting at them. Pritchenko yelled "Take the wheel!" Bravery took the wheel and Pritchenko jumped over Bravery, to the Passenger seat. "Rowan, hold the butt of the gun and swing me over!" (Rowan was in the bed of the truck, Paxton was in the back of the seats.) Rowan grabbed the gun and clenched down with all of his might. Pritchenko jumped out of a moving truck that was going at least 70 miles per hour, Rowan extended it outward, and Pritchenko grabbed onto it, and was swung into the bed. He grabbed the Sniper Rifle and sited in. "Suppress the other car for me, Row." Pritchenko said. Rowan promptly took out his gun and started shooting at the other truck. Paxton was already shooting them and peppering the other truck with his shotgun. Pritchenko sited in and shot the driver, and the car swerved into a tree. Bravery stopped the car about 10 feet from the other one: Enough to escape quickly. "Make it quick, we'll have every zombie within a 5 mile radius in around 2 minutes, so grab what you can. Bravery? Stay in there, we'll need a getaway driver." Paxton and Pritchenko got out of the truck and walked toward it. Rowan reloaded his pistol and raised it, being on the highest caution. One of them was a white man, one a black man, and a Hispanic man. They didn't have time to look closer and determine if they were African or Haitian, or Mexican or Cuban. All they saw was brown skin, white skin and black skin.

The Hispanic one was dead. The black one was bitten; all that remained was the white one. (After Paxton put other to rest.)

The white one was injured, it was terminal. He said "In a way you have completed my life, I got what I had coming to me." He began. Paxton and Pritchenko had a look of confusion on their faces. "I just came from a beautiful little town called Wood Berry down the road about 30 miles down. I was their… Governor. Please help yourself there, I'm done controlling people, sadly it had to come the time that I died…" He ached, and moaned. "One more thing? Kill me; I don't want to become one of those biters."

Paxton, without a second thought pulled out his 38. Special and shot him in the head. Rowen got out of the truck and started packing up the ammo. Bravery looked around in the car, and saw more of those zombies coming out to eat them. "Hurry up…" he started saying. The three outside of the car, finally started getting to the car. There were dozens of them about 20 feet away from the car. Rowen packed everything right into the bed. He gave the thumbs up. "Let's move."

They sped off in the direction of Wood Berry. They had hoped that the Governor was telling the truth.