Had they gone rogue too? Or were the final members of a destroyed swarm? Remnants of some unknown battle. Or maybe more rejects and anomalies like him that hadn’t woken up from their nightmare. The one or two he stopped to examine looked and operated exactly the same as all the rest however - angry and bloodthirsty. Mindless drones. Consumers of flesh and nothing more. Target practice.

His focus is torn between navigating the streets, the pain in his limbs and the constant jabbering which has become an almost hysterical musing in his head.

Oblivious to the scene of death he leaves behind after an encounter with a pair of fellow undead, he slides into a ransacked food store and grabs a loaf of bread and a packet of sliced cheese from the shelves.