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Simon looks down at the crumbling city from his filthy window, watching as people who look nearly as lifeless as the infected shamble and limp down the streets towards their own grimy day-to-day, no doubt most of them off to bury or burn bodies for a living. They certainly had a plethora of those around.
His own day will be starting soon, and he's readying for a trip outside the QZ tonight, knowing there's quite a few buyers who will eagerly shove him a fistful of money for medicine or bullets.
He's got his own weaponry, packed and ready on his bed, as well as a backpack of supplies and food to survive the next few brutal nights.
Then, unexpectedly, comes a knock at his door. He slides on his mask and answers it suspiciously, a loaded gun in his other hand, but is surprised by who he sees.
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