Desert of the Undead

The scorching sun beat down on the barren desert landscape as a group of survivors trudged through the unforgiving sand. They were weary, exhausted from days of fleeing from the relentless undead.

“We can’t keep going like this, Sam,” Sarah said, wiping sweat from her brow. “We need to find shelter, water, and a way to defend ourselves.”

Sam, a seasoned survivor, glanced at the horizon, scanning for any signs of life or refuge. “I know, Sarah. We’ve been on the run for too long. We need to find a safe place to regroup, rest, and gather supplies.”

Just as desperation threatened to consume them, they spotted a dilapidated motel in the distance. Its faded sign swayed in the desert wind, barely clinging to its post. It seemed like an oasis amidst the desolation.

“Look, Sam! There’s the motel,” Sarah exclaimed, hope rekindling in her eyes.

They quickened their pace, their footsteps sinking into the sand. As they approached, caution took hold. They had learned to expect the unexpected in this new world of the undead.

The creaking door of the motel greeted them as they cautiously entered, their weapons at the ready. The lobby was eerily quiet, the air thick with anticipation.

Suddenly, a low growl echoed from a dark corner of the room. They spun around, their hearts pounding in their chests, only to find a lone zombie lurking in the shadows.