Control
W A S D - Walk Shift - Run Left Click - Shoot Right Click - Bomb
c
The air reeks of rot and gunpowder, a miasma clinging to the ruins of what was once a city. John presses his back against the crumbling concrete, fingers trembling around the grip of his last-chance revolver, its barrel still smoking from the shot that took down the thing that used to be his neighbor. His boots crunch over broken glass and bone as he moves, every step a gamble—too loud, and they’ll swarm; too slow, and the infection crawling up his forearm from yesterday’s bite will beat him to the grave. The growls echo like a chorus of rusted engines, closer now. He remembers his daughter’s laughter, the way she’d clutch her ragged teddy bear, the one he’d failed to grab when the horde tore through their safehouse. No time for that now. No time for anything but the weight of the hatchet on his belt, the half-empty mag in his pocket, and the faint radio signal looping in his earpiece—a garbled voice repeating coordinates he’s too desperate not to chase. Daylight’s bleeding out, and the shadows are moving. Always moving. He reloads. Breathes. Runs.
