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Great," Jaime says. "Do you want to pick our name?"

Group name: the dead will serve us

Leader: Luth

The celebration is cut short when the forest comes to life with a herd of deer rushing from the tree line and running along the edge of the woods. In their quick motion, they look to be fleeing. Turning to watch them, you hear the infected, and the forest opens as they march out. You draw out your binoculars and scan the coming horde. They wear the clothes of campers, road workers, and hikers, and their broken bodies sway and shuffle randomly like rodents searching through a maze. Some have dirt and mud caked on their clothes and faces, hiding the decay in a mask made from the earth. One has a torn leg, and from it sticks a tent pole which dangles upright like an insect's antennae. Another drags half its crushed body, leaving particles of its own viscera behind it. They cross the field with only low moans and haven't spotted the living by the highway…yet. Their voices growl in a communion of apathy, their mouths split wide, and they call out in their inhuman language for you to join them in their version of the afterlife.

"Look! From the road," Nathan yells, and more zombies shamble along the highway in the direction you were traveling, past the accident. They walk in multitude, and more than two score scuttle slow and steady, drifting along the road.

Shouts and screams break the quiet among the survivors, guns come out, and they group up near the caravan and watch the horde slither and shamble.

"We need to kill them before the two hordes combine!" you yell. "We need to split into two teams, one on the highway and one in the field. Each team focuses on killing off the two smaller hordes."

A slow build of anxious energy spreads through the group, ending with some survivors rushing for weapons, some standing there in shock, while others turn to stare at the oncoming undead.

"Wait, why are we splitting into two teams?" Kelly shouts above the chatter. "We can just drive away."

"We don't have enough room for everyone with the minibus down," Jaime says as he raises his submachine gun. "Besides, most of the vehicles are running low on fuel. We won't get far."

"That's a lot of zombies out there." Church holds up his arm to wipe his forehead, dangling the large revolver held in his hand. "We should run along the highway."

Rachel rips out a magazine from a submachine gun, checks the ammo, and jams it back in. "There's no time. Once those two masses of the dead spot us, they'll outrun a number of us."

"My ride is fine, so me and my ma are out of here," Reilly says and steps toward his red Chevy.

Nora crosses her arms, letting her cane fall. "We're not leaving these people, Reilly. Damn it, you gotta think of someone other than yourself."

"We can fit some of the slow ones in our car." Reilly hangs his head, his voice soft and unsure.

As the survivors debate, you look across the field and see the undead moving closer, and though they aren't aware of your group yet, their attack is inevitable. The highway zombies are farther out but crossing the distance faster. Should Reilly or anyone else drive off, the roar of an engine will awaken the horde. If your group runs, they'll leave all the supplies. Dealing with the horde provides your only chance at survival. And as the survivors stand around and exchange opinions on how to deal with the current situation, the infected wander closer.