Make A Choice - Zombie Verse
The group had been travelling through the desolate wastelands for days now, scavenging supplies wherever possible and using their resources sparingly. They had passed a few stray undead on their way, but the hordes seemed to be far away from their path. For now.
Oliver’s shirt had seen better days, a few holes and bloodied patches seeping through the once bright blue fabric, now faded to a musty grey. His face was littered with scars and dirt, his neatly trimmed beard now a scraggly mess around his chin and lips, as unkempt and wayward as his mess of brown curls.
“We should find somewhere to stay for the night!” he called back into the group. “Sun’ll be settin’ in a few hours...” There seemed to be nothing but wasteland around them for what felt like miles, abandoned metal railings, tyres, road signs and other materials strewn over the ground and covered in dust.