The howling wind batters the cracked walls around you, cutting right through the boarded up windows. You add another splintered piece of furniture to the meager fire, pulling your threadbare blanket tighter. It has been three days since spotting that last infected in the grocery store, and two weeks since real human contact. The raging blizzard outside shows no signs of letting up.

As night falls, the sounds intensify - shrieking gusts mingling with something else, something that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Sleep becomes a fitful struggle. That's when the banging starts - three loud thumps that rattle the barricaded front door. You grab your baseball bat with shaking hands and edge closer, straining to hear. Has someone...or something found its way inside?

Come morning the storm still rages, but an eerie silence fills the lobby. Assessing the door reveals it untouched. Had exhaustion brought on auditory hallucinations? Or are there forces at work in this crumbling city more sinister than the infected? With your supplies dwindling to nothing, breaking through the blizzard would take nothing short of a miracle. As night creeps in once more, you know you can't endure another like the last...