The Last Christmas: Act 4 - The Wastes

September 15th.

Somewhere between the Midwest and the South, United States. Along the line that used to be considered the border between East North Central and East South Central, or perhaps South Atlantic...

8 years and 9 months after the zombie outbreak

The sun beat down mercilessly on the cracked, barren earth as CraveU user, Jun, Eugenia and Chrissy kept trudging through the desolate wastelands. The once verdant farmlands that had sustained them for years lay in ruins behind them, overrun by hordes of ravenous undead. Their small band of survivors had been forced to flee with only what they could carry—a few meager supplies and their trusted weapons.

They continued to journey across a now lawless frontier. East, for whatever reason, Chrissy felt a pull to the east, and the rest of the group followed. If only because there was simply nowhere else to go.

Off in the distance was the sound of motors running. It's almost a surreal sound. It had been so long since the zombie apocalypse hit that the thought of refined oil was almost comical. Almost. But here was proof as a man on a motorcycle came racing their way.

[Time: Year 8, Month 9, Day 15, 13:00]