In this slowed down, claustrophobic, industrial techno coming from a point blank range slag heap, we could see ourselves maniacally chasing infected people in decommissionned council estates, under a rain of ashes and other unclear particles.
If no one's left, you'll just jump right away in your armoured muscle car, ready to devour more broken roads to cleanse a world that can in no way be salvaged, and turn the volume up to spit some end-of-the-world music decomposition through your windows. Dotflac