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... crunching on the gravel beneath him.

His hands were stained with blood — Zombie blood, the deep red color that was starting to dry on his skin.

He carried four kegs — three of them had belonged to people who'd been unfortunate enough to get caught by the outbreak.

He didn't know who they were, didn't care. All he knew was that their bodies had been left behind, converted into mindless creatures that were killed by the man.

But the fuel in those kegs could still be ...

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