The main game premise is that you are a survivor who has decided that Piety is as far as you are willing to run. It’s time to make a stand. You are the man with a plan. You are the one guy who has just had enough. You are going to bring people, and tools and weapons together and draw the line that says “no more”.
You know there is a wave of zombies from the big cities crossing the heartland and that wave is going to break over Piety sometime over the next couple of weeks. Your base has got exactly that much time to be beefed up with people, barricades and traps.
Given that, each day is crucial as you race the clock. You assign tasks like building or medical care to whatever people you have recruited; decide who you will take with you on your expedition that day, and what sort of rumours you are going to chase down. Do you look for survivors? Food? Ammo? Should you survive not only the mission and the trip there and back (there is always a chance to run into unavoidable hordes when traveling) you can then store what you have found in your stronghold and see where you stand. Tomorrow, people are going to need to be fed, barricades and traps under construction are going to need special materials and tools and you are, once again, going to have to put yourself on the line rescuing people and gathering more things that are so desperately needed to prepare for the final night.
People who have been bitten by a Zombie do not die instantly, and human beings — especially scared human beings — are some of the fastest–moving creatures on this planet.
Plagues of the Romero sort are not generally carried by people who are in the terminal stages. The zombification bomburst effect takes place during the 24–72 hour period it takes for an infected person to die — and start infecting more people.
Real plagues are not dissimilar. The problem with the We would notice it. argument is that the Centers for Disease Control are already working very hard and are running on the bleeding edge of tolerance trying to keep an eye on influenza viruses and control antibiotic–resistant new strains of tuberculosis and syphilis. A genuinely new plague with a strange vector and no known history probably could do a lot of damage — you can't prepare to prevent a disease you've never seen.
Of course, Zach isn't a biological agent in Fort Zombie, so this is all moot.
There is a malevolent Will which opposes the survivors in Fort Zombie. It has many servants and many slaves. It hungers and it hates. But it is not a human being.
If you locked yourself in a bunker and sealed the doors with a full supply of food, water, and air, you would be fine.
For the first few days.
Then the fears and the doubts would set in. Crawling cold thoughts would strike you at odd moments. Wondering what was happening in the world above. What had become of the people, the animals, the trees, grass, the very wind and air of places you had once loved. Increasingly torturous doubts would begin to fill your mind, as you imagined the world you had known burning or tenanted by the hungry dead. Voices would echo through your mind — voices begging for your help. Voices calling out your name. In increasingly vivid nightmares you would see anyone and everyone die — every person who had shown you a moment of human decency in your life would be torn apart before your eyes, helpless and alone.
Eventually you would wake from sleep thinking that you heard a sound. A whisper, perhaps. The whimpering of a wounded dog. You would look around your shelter, heart thudding painfully in your chest, your skin crawling with an overwhelming sense of being watched.
And when you raised your hands toward your sleep crusted eyes, you would see the first rim of black rot around the cuticles of your fingernails.
If you do not fight with everything you have and everyone you love — the darkness will take you. The Dead World does not spare cowards — it oozes in through the cracks, not only of the flesh but of the spirit. -- Arinn
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