Bill, Francis, Louis and Zoey were alerted by the sound of gunfire outside their safehouse.

"Oh man, don't tell me the zombies learned how to use weapons too!" Louis lamented. "Now we would be shot in addition to being attacked by their freaking unearthly powers!"

"Don't worry," Bill said. "If they kill themselves we don't need to waste bullets anymore." Louis was about to counter the argument when Zoey interrupted.

"Hey, wait – what if that was another survivor, like us? Surely he or she needs some help!"

Francis nodded his agreement. "Right you are. Come on, prepare yourselves! Let's meet the guy."

"Or girl," Zoey added.

When they got out of the safehouse all the Infected outside were gone to the afterlife. The scene looked pretty normal for an aftermath of an Infected shootout, except for one measly thing – a Tank looked like it was hit by a car. There it was, with the vehicle sticking out of his chest.

"How – how – how did that happen?" Francis, stuttering, managed to get the words out of his mouth.

"And where was the source of the gunfire?" Zoey inquired. "There are no traces of abandoned weapons here."

After splitting up and looking for possible survivors, Louis finally found a weird-looking man crouched in an airvent. "Found one!"

When the other three got to Louis they saw a strange sight. The man, finally out of the vent, looked strange, wearing the weirdest piece of clothing ever seen.

"He looks like an astronaut, only his suit is in orange!"

"What a strange symbol that one in his chest is!"

"What's more, he looks like Bill! Moustache, goatee, only younger, wears glasses, and more, ah, fit!" Louis joked.

Bill, irritated, shot back. "Hey, old men have feelings too – hey, is that a crowbar in his hand?"

It certainly was. And, when they peered into the vent they saw a strange device – the only thing they could comment on in their astonishment is that it has an orange glow.

"What's your name?" Bill said. "Come on, don't be shy. If we all die you would have nobody to be shy to."

No response.

Zoey asked, "What is that thing that glows orange?"

No response.

"Why the hell are you crouching in that airvent?" Louis asked.

Still no response.

Francis was getting irritated. "I'll give you five minutes to speak!"

Five minutes passed, and still no response.

"This guy is a sissy!" roared Francis. "We ought to take his weapons. They're not for girls!" Zoey eyed him an angry look. "Sorry, Zoey, figure of expression among us bikers."

At that, the man wrote a single word in the ground. The four survivors were all stymied, and with a look of understanding, nodded to the man, who was pointing his crowbar at the ground –

Freeman.