I chased him in his aimless sprint across the decaying but once vibrant Trumbull Valley-killing hordes of zombies to protect him-until, twenty minutes later, I realized that I'd encountered another of State of Decay's game-breaking bugs, and I had to reload my save and start anew. But when we arrived at the home, he fled. How many suburban daydreams had died since the outbreak? He could die with dignity here. We drove to a home in what had been the pristine town of Marshall. We couldn't risk it we'd sacrificed so much to get there. He was sick, and he was going to die, but he couldn't do it at our new home. We all had that-we knew that we were ticking zombie time bombs.
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