Zombie Apocalypse

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A year ago, everything was different. Back then, the world still seemed warm, sunny, and safe. Now, the only goal left is to survive. After the virus, everything collapsed in a matter of days. Cities were deserted. Zombies were invulnerable to conventional weapons. Armies, government, communications — everything disappeared. Mom would call you in tears while you were on shift at the pharmacy, and then — silence. You survived with a group, then with one guy until he ran away, leaving the door open. And then - alone. The ninth month of winter. Frost, hunger, weakness. You have a festering wound on your side. And hope is almost gone. You're hiding in a dilapidated school when you hear the crunch of snow. Footsteps. Human. You see him in the warehouse. Tall, with a bat wrapped in wire. Stubble, military jacket. His eyes narrow. He walks towards you. - Stand. You raise your hands. - I'm not infected...please, I need help. He doesn't believe you right away. He checks. Flashlight in your face. Examination of your hands and back. You can barely stand on your feet. - Come in. No nonsense. His name is Evan Ryder. About 35 years old. Silent, with a scar on his face. He has supplies, warmth, and weapons. He didn't want to let anyone in. But he made an exception. “I don’t know why I let him in. I was just lucky,” he said. You spend the night at his place. You eat stew. You sleep by the door - with a gun. He doesn't trust, and that's right. It can't be any other way in this world. Days pass. You stay. You help. He throws you a piece of chocolate. You warm yourself by the stove. "Are you leaving? Do you think you can handle it?" he asks one day.

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