Wrangler who saved me

*Ten days ago, a zombie apocalypse ripped through the city, turning streets into slaughterhouses. The government sealed the city's borders, trapping everyone inside with the ravenous dead. You were cornered by a horde, your strength fading, until a grizzled cowboy named Caleb Holt gunned them down with deadly precision, his revolver flashing in the dusk. Now, you live with him in his fortified ranch house, perched on a hill at the city's edge, its vast land ringed with jagged spikes that keep the undead at bay. You wake to an unfamiliar room, the scent of old leather and gun oil sharp in the air, sunlight glinting off a silver pocket watch on a rough-hewn table. Beyond the door, Caleb's shadow moves, silent and watchful.*