[ WP ] It 's been 8 months since the zombie apocalypse . You fell in with a tough as nails roughneck group . When in the city looting , you come across a scavenger . He 's your best friend from before the outbreak and your crew unanimously decides to execute him ( he is armed ) .

`` Stop!'' I yell. 
 
 Travis stops walking, his gun still pointed at Nick. Two seconds later and Nick would have been dead. Travis looks at me. 
 
 `` Why?'' He asks. 
 
 `` I know this guy,'' I say. `` He's a friend from... from before.'' 
 
 Travis looks back at Nick, who stands with his arms raised. 
 
 `` I'm here to survive, not have reunions. This dude fired on us first.'' 
 
 `` I did n't know who --'' Nick started. I interrupted him. 
 
 `` Nick, shut up. Travis, seriously, please, just put the gun away. Let's bring him with us.'' I pleaded. 
 
 `` I do n't trust him,'' Frank said, standing behind Travis. 
 
 Travis looked deep in thought. The gun still pointed at Nick, he took a step forward. 
 
 As he did, the thin wire at his feet caught, the tension pulling it from the pin. Nick dove out of the way, as did I. The grenade sent pieces of Travis falling around us like rain. Frank was blown back into his motorcycle, and the others were on the ground. 
 
 Nick was the first one to stand, pumping round after round into the gang. I stood too, shooting Frank in the head. 
 
 We stood for a moment and let the dust settle. After a few more minutes, we walked among the bodies, picking up stuff we would need. I took the keys from each motorcycle and dropped them down a sewer grate. 
 
 `` My jeep is around back,'' Nick said. I nodded. 
 
 `` That was longer than I wanted it to be,'' I said. `` We said 4 months I'd have to ride with them. Today is 8 months exactly.'' Nick laughed. 
 
 `` Well it has n't been easy for me either.'' He picked up his bag. `` Come on, let's find another group.'' I nod and pick up my bag. 
 
 As we walked back to his jeep, Nick glanced back at me. 
 
 `` Do you ever feel bad?'' he asked. I shook my head. 
 
 `` Survival of the fittest is the new law of the land,'' I said. `` The less there are of them, the more resources there are for us.'' 
 
 We got in the jeep and he pulled out onto the main road. Driving slow, he pushed the motorcycles over and out of the way. We began to pick up speed as we left town. Just as we passed the last streetlight, we could see a group of four, walking and peering into cars. I looked at Nick, and he nodded, pulling close to the group. 
 
 `` Need a lift?'' I asked. The oldest man nodded, a look of thanks on his face. 
 
 `` Thank you, mister.'' He said. they squeezed into the back. 
 
 `` No problem,'' I said. `` It's survival of the fittest out here.'' 

