A man/woman walks out into the cold night air. His/her hands are shaking from what just happened…

The icy cold pistol grip shotgun still clinched in her hand the cold blood of the undead running down her body.  She had held the zombies off this time but the gunshots would have attracted another barrage.  By morning the building would once again be fill to the brim with warriors of the undead.  Knowing she must leave she gathers her clothes and shotgun shells and flee's.  Running down the street, she checks every car to see if any still run.  She finds one that runs and has a full tank of gas.  Her luck has finally changed,  revving up the engine of the Hummer 2 she found her heart pounds.