Everyone had theories on where the infection came from and how it all got started. But none of that really mattered anyone, especially now that 'everyone' was either dead or too busy trying to survive to give it anymore thought. Liz still thought about it every once in awhile though. Usually right after she tossed a Molotov cocktail at a newly re-slain corpse from her roof.

Elizabeth - as she use to be known by before society fell apart - had moved to Las Vegas just before the infection hit, during the big housing boom of 3 years ago. Prices for new two-story houses had been amazing and she had been more than willing to go just about anywhere to get away from the only 50 days of clear sky in a year of Seattle. Of course she vaguely regretted that now, the wetness would have sped up decomposition more than a bit.

So she switched over to IT, packed up, moved and basically became a basement dweller. In her defense she had had the forethought to build a bomb shelter/panic room in her basemet and a gym in the unused dining area. As well as a few other choice renovations such as bars on the windows, reinforcing the doors with steel and building the thickest, highest wall around her property that she didn't need a permit for. She hadn't quite anticipated this exact scenario - or she would have built the shelter in the attic - but lord knows her paranoia was what kept her alive to today. Probably the best thing to come out of the outbreak was now she didn't have to pay back the loans for the renovations and other accessories. They were pretty extreme. Her neighbors had looked at her like she was insane and laughed, but where were they now? Dead. She had made sure of that personally.

So when the screams and shots filled the air and the bombs fell, she was prepared. What she wasn't prepared for was the brutality and mayhem of the reality. She had prepared for a battle, not a massacre. Not extinction. And definitely not flesh eating reanimated corpses. She still refused to call them zombies. War had been inevitable, be it conventional, biological, technological or even psychological, and aliens she had accepted years ago but zombies? She still didn't believe her eyes sometimes when a corpse with its spine snapped and half its head missing continued to crawl towards her. Doesn't mean she doesn't still pull the trigger though.

But 3 years in the relative safety of her home - as compared to just about everywhere else - were coming to an end. Her resources were dwindling, maybe enough food for a 2 more months if she was sparing. But she couldn't afford to be sparring, she needed to keep her strength up. There wasn't any other choice, she would have to run for it.