The Silence of the great ruin that was the Manhattan Island, was broken by the muffled sound of heavy boots, followed by the soft pad of hardened paws against the sun baked concrete which crunched underfoot. A thick, rust coloured haze hung in the air a few centimetres above the ground, the stench of rot and decay carried with it. This was the ToGo Virus, the virus responsible for single handedly ending the world in less than a week. Who ever breathed that crap in, would turn into some form of raving cannibal within a day, those infected could spread the infection in the form of bites and scratches. Some seriously messed up shit.

A lone wanderer made their way through the haze, the lenses of a gas mask glinted from within the depths of the hood the figure had over their face. This was Alex Monroe.
Looking through the dusty lenses of a gas mask, Alex made his way through the toxic mist, ever alert and ever cautious as he scanned the street for any signs of life, or in this case, the undead. Taking a few steps forwards, past the burnt out husk of a car and one of many that rusted in the streets, bones and decaying bodies littered the street, it was hard to believe that only a few weeks before, this had once been a center of life and humanity, since then, it was as if the world had come to a sudden halt, frozen in place, ended. Probably never to return to those times of life and normality again.
One hand clutching the hilt of a Cavalry Sword that sat in a cloth, makeshift sheath, the other at his side. Alex carried on wandering along the side walk, for some reason, he still felt compelled to walk along the side walk, there was no laws, not anymore and only a small amount of cars still worked, yet he still did so, it felt unnatural and wrong to walk in the road. He looked up at the sky; the sun was still up, beating down upon the concrete expanse of the city with no apparent respite. It was always like this during the day.
Pulling his hood down, Alex ran a hand through his mattered hair as he surveyed the scene before him. A low growl rumbled from behind him. This was Grimm, a 250-pound brute of an American mastiff, a suit of chainmail protected the dogs torso, over that were metal plates covered in sharp metal spikes and a reshaped American football helmet covered the dog’s head.
“There, there Grimm. We’ll find some shelter soon” Alex spoke as he turned to face the dog trailing him. Both of them were suffering due to the sweltering heat but they had both grown somewhat used to the deadly temperature. They’d have to find shelter soon though. 
Turning back to look over the street, he noticed a building across the road, it’s door stood slightly crooked open, the windows of the building were boarded up with wooden planks. Darkness beckoned from the open door.
“There.” He spoke a single word as he pointed over at the building. Grimm, seeing this sign that this would become there camp, raced across the road and sat by the door, awaiting his master.
Crossing the street with a light jog towards the door. Alex made his way up the small flight of stairs that led up to the double doors of the building. He looked up at the building he was about to enter, it looked like an apartment block, around 4 or 5 floors to it.
Pushing the door aside further but not without a large creak of protest from the oak door as it slid to the side.
The light from outside bathed the room in a dim light. Alex entered, swiftly followed by Grimm…