[ 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 ) .

We're crouching behind a corroded piece of sheet metal. Any other time, and I would have been able to tell you exactly what metal it was, when it was made, and who made it. Now, I know that it's the only thing keeping me alive. 
 Dakota has her rifle in hand. Slade has his pistol. I've got my knife. The rest are behind us, huddling and arming themselves with whatever weapons they can find. Some of them are shivering, shaking in fear. 
 It seems bizarre, almost comic, that we are so afraid of these creatures. We should n't be. They were humans, too, but now, they're depleted, driven insane. They're lesser beings than us, and yet they kill us. Yet they have a bloodlust for us that seems to consume them entirely. 
 We can hear the being stumbling around, picking through trash, searching for something, anything. 
 It's getting closer to us, maybe a meter or two away. I look at Dakota, and she nods, the bandanna tied over her nose and mouth shifting slightly. I glance back and Slade, and he starts to count down 
 Three. Two. One. 
 We jump out and raise our weapons to the being. We're silent, no battle cries or screams of rage now. 
 But it's not a monster, like we thought it was. 
 It's Isaac. 
 He's got a gun, and he does n't even think before he fires it. It's too reflexive, and he's too startled. His bullet hits Dakota, right in the middle of her biceps. She stumble a little and starts screaming. I'm still stunned, completely bewildered, but even I know that she has to stop making that much noise. She'll attract more of them. 
 I slap my hand over her mouth, and wrestle her to the ground. Hopefully, she'll pass out from the pain. She'll have to. 
 Slade has forced Isaac to his knees, and his pistol is to the back of Isaac's neck. Isaac is breathing heavily, his hands on the back of his head. His eyes are wide and staring at the wreckage on the ground. 
 Dakota has stopped struggling. She's out. I rip my overshirt off and begin to staunch the wound, wrapping the shirt tighter and tighter with each revolution around her arm. I tie it off and look at Slade. 
 `` That's-'' 
 `` I do n't fucking care who it is. He's got ta go.'' 
 `` That's my fucking best friend!'' 
 `` I do n't care. He shot Dakota, he's got ta die.'' 
 `` She's gon na die, now, too!'' I almost yell at him. I have to force myself to keep my voice down. `` He'll be useful. He has a gun and he knows how to use it. He can help.'' 
 `` Dakota's not gon na die. She's gon na make it. This fucker's gon na die.'' 
 `` I'll kill you,'' I say, and rush towards him, shoving my knife in his face. `` Do n't you fucking touch him. I'll kill you.'' 
 Slade shakes his head sadly. `` I'm sorry, Hunter. But he's got ta die.'' 
 Before I can do anything else, he pulls the trigger of his gun. I feel Isaac's blood splatter my leg and stomach. 
 With a scream of rage, I dive forwards even farther and attempt to stick my knife in Slade. He's expecting it, though, and he turns the gun on me. 
 Drives the barrel between my eyes 
 Cocks it. 
 Pulls the trigger a final time.
