"I'll do it," you say. Matthias nods. The other soldiers go over a plan for the farmhouse, while you take a defensive position behind the helicopter door. You figure that it's extremely unlikely you'll see anybody, you still want to remain vigilant. You sit up straight and try your hardest to stay awake.


The others have been gone for a worryingly long amount of time, and you decide to go check on them. You get out of your seat, and go look at the farmhouse. From where you are, you can't see any fighting or danger, and you haven't heard any gunshots. You assume they're just doing a thorough search, and cross your fingers for some fresh bread.


As you turn to get back in the helicopter, you are met with a bow and arrow pointed at your face. Its user is a man with long blonde hair that covers his eyes. 


"Water," he says, in a parched voice. "Give it to me." Shaking, you slowly nod. You climb into the helicopter, and fumble around for the pack with the bottled water in it. You find the pack, but then you remember your gun.

You give him the water

Not wanting to risk conflict, you hand the bag over to the man. He takes it, and slings it over his shoulder.


"Thanks. Now get out," he commands. You oblige. "I see your stuff," the man says from behind you, the arrow in his bow brushing against your back. "I see those guns. You got any food back there? I'm hungry."


You can't think of anything to do, so you try to stall. "Who are you?"


"Name's Cedar. What's it to you?"


"Why are you stealing from me?" you ask, careful not to say 'us'. It's better if he thinks you're alone.


"I had people. They ditched me. Now I got nothing but this bow, and I need basic stuff to live. Food, Water. I'm gonna get it fro-"


Cedar suddenly takes a bullet to the forehead, and slumps to the ground. Conway comes running up from the trees. 


"Did he hurt you?" Conway asks. You're surprised to see that he cares so much about you. You shake your head, and go to retrieve the water pack. Matthias and Ozzy have large cases of seed and preserved food in their hands.


"Okay, one more hurdle," Ozzy says. "We get gas in Oregon, and we're home free."

You continue

The trip continues, and you quickly lose track of time. It's daytime, so you know you shouldn't be sleeping, but you can't see where the sun is out the windows from where you are. Of course, time doesn't really hold much value anymore. You can't be late to Washington.


Roger and Conway still refuse to speak to each other. Each just acts like the other isn't there. Whenever one speaks, the other is silent, and they make great effort to avoid eye contact. The others soldiers have caught wind of this, but nobody seems to be making an effort to help the situation. You decide to leave it alone for now.


"Good news! We're crossing the California-Oregon border.....now!" Ozzy shouts from the cabin. The team rejoices, but you're just worried. The small pocket of fear in your gut grows. "We don't have much fuel left. I'm probably going to touch down soon," he finishes.


You land on the outskirts of a small town. "There weren't any fuel-holding outposts, as Roger said, but there is an outpost here, so it's a possibility that there will be fuel here, in one form or another," Ozzy declares. "Who's guarding the helicopter this time?"


Conway volunteers, most likely to get away from Roger. Nobody in the group objects, so you don't either. The less time those two spend together, the better. Conway takes a seat in the cabin, while the rest of the group sets out for the town.


"There's not much hope that this place is still inhabited," Roger says on the way. "Except maybe by the dead. As long as we're careful, there shouldn't be much of an issue." Roger points out a large metal wall in the distance. It's made up of three metal fences, put one after the other. You can see a few places where the fence broke, and entire panels are missing.


You approach the outpost with caution, but stop when you realize the whole thing is empty. When you step into the compound through a hole in the fence, the ground is littered with zombies, all of them shot in the head.


"What?" exclaims Matthias when he sees. "How could this have happened? Unless..."


"This wasn't the dead," Roger finishes. "Somebody did this. Somebody took down this outpost. We had three tanks, and a heavy machine gun stationed at this outpost, and somebody wiped it clean." You stare in disbelief. If there's a threat that's stronger than the U.S. military's stores, that's all the more reason to get to Washington immediately.


The group splits up to search the most likely areas where fuel would be, if there was a landed helicopter or a truck containing jet fuel around. But, of course, the attackers didn't leave so much as a single can of food, much less a tank of jet fuel.


"We're gonna have to look elsewhere," Matthias declares.

You elsewhere

"The only other place I think can think of that would hold the fuel we need is an airport or something," Matthias says. "And that wouldn't even work."


You try to think of places you've seen a helicopter. News helicopters? No, the probability of there still being fuel in them is too low. There are no more outposts nearby, so military aid is useless. The only thing left you can think of is recreational helicopters, but the thought of a 'posh' country club in a town this small is, once again, very unlikely.


"We don't have to take the helicopter, do we?" you suggest. "We could leave it here, and take something easier to transport, like a bus or a car." The team seems to consider the thought.


"Helicopter fuel is only going to get harder and harder to find," Matthias points out. Finally, Roger agrees.


You find several cars abandoned on the side of the road, and take the two in the best condition for your group. Having two cars is better for your group because it's less cramped, and you can sit Roger and Conway in opposite vehicles. You siphon the gas from the remaining cars, and drive back.


Conway is less than pleased with the group's decision. "We need the helicopter!" he insists. "We skip over so much crap that way!"


Roger, for the first time since the incident, faces Conway sternly. "We're taking the cars," he says.

You continue

Moving everything from the helicopter to the cars is not an easy task. It takes up most of what's left of the day, and your shoulder is aching when you're done. After the helicopter is empty, everyone splits into the cars. Roger puts a 'Come to Washington or Die' message on the helicopter door. "Just in case," he explains.


Oregon is surprisingly zombie-free, after what you saw in California. The streets are empty. Not full of dead corpses or defeated zombies, but completely empty. It's strange. 


"Odd that there are no walkers here," Ozzy says, echoing your thoughts. "Think there's a reason for it?"


"Maybe we cleared them all out," Roger suggests. "It would make sense for the guards to want to keep the dead as far from sanctuary as possible." You decide it's still out of the ordinary for there to be absolutely no zombies around.


"Maybe it's because there's no food?" you suggest. "I mean, we've known them to follow noises and the smell of food, so maybe Oregon ran out." The team seems to be thinking over this possibility, when all your theories are disproven.


"Holy hell," Roger whispers. You're looking out over the city of Portland, Oregon- or, more accurately, what's left of it. Every single zombie that was missing from Oregon as packed tightly into the streets of Portland. They have no room to move, and a chorus of hungry growls emanates over the city.


"No way we're getting through that," says Roger. "We should've kept the helicopter." 


Your team gets out of the car. Conway and Matthias get out of the other car. You group up and look out over the maze of rotting flesh that stands between you and salvation.


"Think we could sneak through it?" suggests Matthias. "If we cover ourselves in zombie goop, we might be able to pass by."


"I say we go in guns ablaze," Conway says.


"Are you insane?" Roger shoots back. "Do I need to remind you of the warning I gave you before? You want to fire a gun in that?" Roger points to the zombie-filled streets. "If you sneeze hard enough, you'll be dead. Firing a single shot would be simultaneously slitting all of our throats."


Conway doesn't respond, but you can tell he isn't going to heed Roger's words. "Let's go with Matthias' plan, then."


Easier said than done. Extracting one zombie from the masses proves to be scary and difficult. But, Ozzy manages to pull it off. He comes back with a bloody corpse slung over his shoulder. "Let's cut this sucker open," he says, "...and have a bath."


The fumes are dizzying. Days of rotting organs and waste come billowing out of the cadaver. What's worse is that you're tossing those very guts over your shoulder, on your back, and on your front. After a few minutes, you'd pass for some pretty smelly zombies. You really wish you hadn't ditched the helicopter.


You approach the city slowly, your group forming a tight pack. To get separated would mean death. You slowly walk through the crowd, scared to even brush past a zombie. One by one, the dead look at you, decide you aren't good to eat, and stumble off in another direction. More often than you'd like, a zombie is idly standing in your way, meaning you have to try to slip past it with as little contact as possible.


Eventually, you realize you're passing through the city center. You notice a lot of uniformed soldiers among the gobs of zombies. But, the plan is working. You can tell you're going ot make it. Not a single zombie even bothers to look at you anymore. You're just another mindless walker. Everything seems to be going on course- until Conway spots a tank in the middle of the road, and starts to go for it.


"No!" Roger hisses as quietly as he can. A few nearby zombies stare curiously at him for a moment. "Conway, stop! You are ruining the plan! Get back here!" But, of course, Conway isn't listening.


"The plan doesn't matter anymore," Conway whispers back. "If I get control of that tank, we could clear out a path. There'd be no trouble." He grows closer and closer to the tank, with his teammates behind him, begging him to stop and turn around. Finally, he reaches the tank, and struggles to open the hatch at the top.


You notice Roger pulling his silencer gun out of his belt. "No," you say, stopping him. "He isn't worth the bullet, or the attention it'll draw."


"You sure about that?" Roger asks back. 


You're too late to do anything, anyway. Conway rips open the hatch to reveal a zombie that was waiting inside. Surprised, he takes a step back, and slips off the tank. He lets out a bloodcurdling scream as he cradles a bite on his arm. The scream causes the idle moaning of the zombies to stop. Slowly, unanimously, the zombies all turn their heads towards a screaming Conway, and the rest of your group. They seem to have caught on to the fact that you aren't zombies.


As the space closes in around you, and your innards are divided up between six different sets of hands, you kind of wish you had let Roger shoot Conway.