“If you are hearing this, you are the resistance,” the disembodied voice tells me. It works, and my comms connect to the AM frequency. ![]() I’ve already refilled the old generator with fuel, and now I must launch the satellite that will allow me to contact the resistance. I dash past corpses in various states of decomposition, pump a few bullets into an explosive barrel to buy myself precious time, swallow a fistful of painkillers to up my health and reach my goal. It only takes a few moments, but every second counts. Switching to my SMG in case more zombies approach from beyond the 2x4s nailed to the wall, I step to the opening and begin the job. With the bulk of my ravenous foes lying in a bloody heap on the floor, I make the call to save the rest for later and rebuild a nearby barrier. ![]() I swing my wrench, landing a mighty blow against the crown of an incoming zombie. “Die…again!” I shout as I lay waste to a gaggle of undead, hell-bent on eating my brains.
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