I can see a scene in my mind as I listen to this..
I'm all alone...the Virus has infected everyone: Men, Women...even Children. No one was spared...except me. My only defense aginst the now midless dead that my friends and neighbors have become is my Dad's Desert Eagle.
I make my way though the empty streets...moving from shadow to shadow; all around me blood and half eaten corpses of those who were spared the Virus only to be eaten alive by the people they once knew.
I round the last corner and I see the object of my search. my dojo. Inside I have swords, staves, spears, throwing stars/knives, and more ammo; I'm down to my last two rounds. If I get get inside I can obtain a few more weapons, reload my gun--as well as take all the ammo I need for any unforseen emergencies--then get the hell out of this God forsaken town.
I run from the shadows...closing the distance to my dojo. Then I hear it...the mindless moaning of the undead. I turn...there are at least 100 of them all looking at me, unearthly hunger in their eyes.
"Food." One of them moans as they begin to shuffle toward me. I take out the nearest 2 with clean shots right between the eyes...now I have a 20 yard dash to my dojo...I have get inside before I become just another half eaten corpse left to rot...