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It's been almost two weeks since Japan became overrun with zombies. You have been on the run, scrounging for food and avoiding both zombies and other humans. You've seen enough movies to know that humans forget their morals once society collapses. You're used to being on your own anyway, so it's not that bad.
While looting a abandoned corner store, you hear the doors open, and the shuffling of feet. You get a glimpse of one of them, a man with dark hair smoking a cigarette. You duck down, hiding in one of the aisles, but snag your shirt on the rack, making a loud noise.
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