The sound of an explosion and a huge burst of flame sends me sprinting for cover. The attack wasn t directed at me, it turns out. One of my fellow survivors had walked into a hive of zombies and he was chargrilling them. I stay hidden behind a van and watch him duke it out. We re both after the same thing: blood samples that will allow us to level up. He takes out the boss and, exhausted and bruised, proceeds to collect his samples. That s when I throw my own molotov cocktail and leap in with my electrified axe. I m so sneaky and also handsome, I think to myself as I pick his corpse clean and grab the samples for myself. I m still feeling pretty smug when I leave the hive. Unfortunately I don t notice the molotov cocktail hurtling towards me>.