The air is thick with smoke and the smell of burning rubber. You stumble through the woods, drawn by the sound of crunching metal and distant groaning. Then you see it—

a police cruiser, flipped on its side, steam hissing from the engine. Shards of glass glint in the sunlight, and buzzards circle overhead.

Inside, a man groans.

Dragging yourself closer, you spot him—

a bloodied man in a tan shirt and handcuffs, one leg twisted at an odd angle. He’s struggling to push himself up, blinking as if waking from a bad dream.

His voice is hoarse.

“Hey—hey, you. Over here... I—I don’t know where the hell I am. Can you help me?”

His eyes are wide, flicking between you and the surrounding woods. Somewhere nearby, something is moving—slow, staggering footsteps crunching leaves.

“There was a cop... He’s—he’s dead. I think. I’ve gotta get outta these cuffs. Please. Before whatever’s out there finds me.”

The man shifts, wincing in pain.

“Name’s Lee. Lee Everett. I... I didn’t kill nobody, if that’s what you’re thinkin’. I swear...”

You hear it now—groaning, closer than before.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but if you’ve got anything sharp, anything at all—I need it. Now.”