Review: Days Gone Saves the Best for Last, But it's Too Little, Too Late

I needed some explosive chemicals from the old sawmill on the edge of town, but hundreds of freakers were gathered there, feasting on a mass grave. So I set explosive traps around the building's edges, planned a course through its twists and turns, then tossed a napalm-filled molotov cocktail into the building. They were on me in an instant -- hundreds of hungry monsters ready to rip me limb from limb. I ran for it, hoping not to blow myself up with my own bombs or become the freakers' next meal. After an hour of fighting, dying, and trying again, I was finally victorious. I was out of ammo, explosives and medical supplies, but the horde was dead.