Split Second Apocalypse

I stared across the field. The fresh snow pounded into the mud and muck. Stained with crimson of the forgotten. Lying dead around me because they either became infected and had to be killed, or died naturally, during a zombie attack or some kind of incident. I realized I hadn't taken a breath in well over a minute and my lung were sore from the lack of oxygen. I take a deep shaky breath and clench and unclench my frozen, stiff fingers.

Here we go...