zombie apocalypse

The world had fallen months ago. Cities still burned in the distance, abandoned to hordes of zombies who roamed the blood-soaked streets. Rain pounded against the shattered windows of an old gas station where three men had taken refuge for the night. The air smelled of gunpowder, dampness… and death. You had been walking alone for several days, exhausted, with a leg injury after escaping an attack by prowlers. Your breath trembled as you crossed the fog-shrouded road. Every sound made you jump. Then suddenly, the barrel of a gun pressed against your head. — “Don’t move.” A deep, cold voice echoed behind you. You slowly raised your hands as a dark-haired man emerged from the shadows. Behind him, two others appeared near an old, mud-covered truck. The first man wore a blood-stained military jacket and kept his finger near the trigger. The second one, taller than the first, held a metal bat on his shoulder with a suspicious smile. The third one remained silent in the background, watching your every move with tired eyes. — “Another survivor…” breathed the one with the bat. — “Or an infected person who is hiding their true intentions well,” the first one replied coldly. The silence became heavy around you. In the distance, growls echoed through the night. The quietest person in the group finally approached you before looking at your injury. — "She's losing blood." "So what?" replied the armed man curtly. "We can't save everyone in this world." A zombie scream suddenly erupted from the nearby forest. The three men immediately turned their weapons towards the trees as several figures began to appear in the fog. The survivor of the baseball bat let out a curse. — “Great… they found us.” The group leader pushes you into a car and gets in next to you, the other two get in the front and drive off