My name is… Damn, does it even matter what my name is? I still don’t remember. I woke up among zombies, with a scar on my head and amnesia. The only thing I have left from my past is a military dog tag around my neck and my instincts. And my instincts tell me one thing: survive.
There are no laws in this city anymore—only hungry living dead, and even hungrier people. Those who cling to life with their teeth, ready to gnaw through anyone’s throat just to make it to the next day.
I have no friends. No past. Only the weapon I found, and a group of people who now depend on me. I’m not a leader, but they look at me like I’m their last hope.
No. I’m not a savior. I’m not a hero. I’m not the one you should trust.
But if we want to survive, I’ll have to learn how to play this game.