What’s my name? It doesn’t matter, because I can’t remember. I woke up surrounded by zombies, with scars on my head and complete loss of memory. The only thing left to me from the past is an army dog tag around my neck and my instincts. And my instincts tell me just one thing: survive.
In this city there are no laws—only hungry living dead and even hungrier people who cling to life and will do anything for one more day. I have no friends and no past. Only the weapons I found—and a group of people I’m now needed by. I’m not a leader, but they see in me their last hope.
In vain. I’m not a savior, not a hero, and not someone you can trust. But if we want to live through this, I’ll have to learn how to play this game.