Seated at the helm of the boat, I watched as the early rays of dawn cast a shimmering light across the water, a fleeting moment of beauty in a world turned grotesque.
The journey upstream had consumed the entirety of the previous day and the better part of this one.
Now, as Maxford City loomed just minutes away, a mix of anticipation and dread churned within me.
The Serpentine River, once a bustling artery of commerce and life, now served as a silent witness to the apocalypse's aftermath.
As I navigated past small towns and villages dotting the riverbanks, the scope of the devastation became heartbreakingly clear.
The river's edges were stained a dark crimson, the blood of countless victims painting a macabre picture of the horror that had unfolded.
Zombies, in disturbing abundance, roamed the banks, their presence a constant reminder of the pervasive threat that hung over us like a shroud.
