My eyes snapped open as I jolted awake on the edge of an unfamiliar pier. My head was pounding and my memories hazy. As I slowly scanned my unfamiliar surroundings, faces of strangers wandered about, too preoccupied with seashells and seaweed to notice me. The cries of seagulls mixed with distant shouts reached my ears, but I could barely process the sounds through my throbbing headache.

I slowly got to my feet, my legs unsteady. I felt a sense of urgency rising within me, my instincts screaming at me to move. The rocky walls curved around the pier, entrapping the tide in the cove. I started jogging down the wooden pier, my pulse beginning to race, driven purely by instinct rather than conscious thought.

As I reached the end of the pier, the rocky walls fell away, revealing an expansive sandy beach on my left and the vast open ocean on my right. Two men dressed in medieval attire were lounging on the beach nearby, listening to a crackling radio and laughing boisterously. I picked up my pace, now running past them, trying to take in the details of my surroundings. Numerous small boats lined the shore, gently bobbing in the ocean waters.

Up ahead I spotted a rental booth for the boats, surrounded by a chain-link fence, but there was no attendant in sight. This could be my chance. I vaulted over the fence and landed inside the deserted booth, scattering pens, clipboards and keys strewn about the interior. I quickly grabbed some Mars bars and a bottle of water sitting on the counter, shoving them in my pockets.

Just then, panicked shouting erupted from the beach behind me. My heart sank as I suddenly realized what was happening - the chaos that was about to unfold. The panicked voices and screams grew louder and more intense by the second. People began sprinting down the beach in a frenzy. I frantically shoved all the keys from the booth into my pocket and clutched the food and drink I had nabbed. It was time to run.

I bolted out of the booth toward the largest boat I could find bobbing nearby, knowing I needed to get away fast. The frenzied crowd was getting closer, but I was already several steps ahead, fueled by sheer adrenaline. Unlike them, I knew about the outbreak - I had a plan.

My hands shook violently as I tried key after key, desperately attempting to start the boat. The keys were unmarked, forcing me to resort to trial and error. I cursed aloud in frustration after each failed attempt. Three keys failed to start the engine. Finally, on the fourth key, the engine roared to life. I let out an enormous sigh of relief as I pulled away from the pier, the sounds of chaos fading into the distance behind me.

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As I oriented myself and scanned the boat's interior, I tried to reflect on the harrowing events that led me to this inexplicable situation. But my memories were foggy, with gaps that I couldn't seem to fill. The pounding in my head wasn't helping matters either.

I decided to thoroughly search the boat for anything useful. In a small fridge I found two unopened bottles of beer, one bottle of water, and a pre-packaged cheese sandwich - hardly enough for more than a day. But continued scouring yielded better finds - a basic fishing rod and a small box of bait, which could prove invaluable for survival. But I still lacked any means of self-defense.

I knew from movies and shows that a weapon would be essential in this post-apocalyptic landscape, whether defending against zombies or dangerous groups of humans. I mulled over my limited supplies and realized the beer would only lead to dehydration. The meager food and single bottle of water certainly wouldn't sustain me for long. But in addition to the fishing gear, I could make use of the Mars bars, extra water, and keys I had hastily grabbed during my escape.

Feeling overwhelmed by my predicament and hazy grasp of how I had gotten here, I slumped down with my back against the boat wall. As I wracked my brain, snippets of memories started to take shape. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the fractured events preceding this inexplicable scenario.

I had vague recollections of infiltrating some kind of research facility to investigate illegal experiments for my YouTube channel. The details were murky, but I remembered witnessing things that defied understanding. After two days gathering intel, I had managed to slip away unnoticed. But had I inadvertently triggered something catastrophic in my escape?

Additional puzzle pieces clicked into place. The facility had been experimenting on human consciousness, trying to remove free will. But they created something far worse - a zombie. One bite was all it took to infect a scientist and launch the outbreak.

After my close call, I had fled on a motorbike, one step ahead of the government goons chasing me down. But then a shot took out my back tire, sending me over a cliff's edge. I should have died, but instead I woke up inexplicably on this pier, surrounded by oblivious strangers.

I still had zero recollection of anything prior to infiltrating that facility. But the tumultuous events that followed were coming back to me now. As I sat stranded, I knew focusing on survival was my only aim. Using the fishing rod and bait, I carefully dropped the line into the water. I had to be judicious with my limited food and water while trying to catch more. Dehydration and starvation posed an immediate threat.

As I waited for a bite, I contemplated my next moves if I managed to reach land. Should I chance finding other survivors or try navigating my way alone? With my memories still patchy, could I trust anyone? All I knew for certain was that the world had forever changed. And survival now depended on being prepared for anything that came my way.