The air around me is cold; I can feel goosebumps forming on my arms. When I remain inside the closet for another five minutes, or at least, what I think is five minutes, I scramble briskly on the ground, my ripped jeans scraping on the dirty flooring. I reach over into the small closet, filled with lab equipment, and tug at the small satchel that has kept me alive. Inside, there are a few items but they’re all I have. Night vision goggles, a water purifier, a gun, canned fruits, and a small note. It reads: follow the trail. Before the zombies arrive, I pull the goggles over my eyes and begin to run to the back door that leads outside. I hear nasty groans and screams and I know they’re behind me. Putting on a burst of speed, I dart towards the
