The 64-acre zoo is the only in the Pacific Northwest, it's home to 2,200 individual animals, 260 species of birds, mammals, reptiles, amphibians and invertebrates. Once the outbreak hit, the human caretakers became unable to tend the enclosed creatures and now they stir restlessly trying to find food that isn't one another, and escape their habitats, while not quite sure what to make of the wandering infected.

In its heyday, City Hall represented law and order. Now with its charred walls, torn fixtures, and crippling foundation, it accurately depicts society's collapse.

Portland International Airport has seen the last of it's air born travelers, every once in a while survivors will gather to try to make one of the surviving airplanes fly, very few have been successful. Now just gift shops and grounded planes remain for raiding.

The sports-arena-turned-military-base now houses close to 80 soldiers and countless civilians. The military personnel lack communication to the outside world but have developed a reliable system for fending off the infected. They know their time and supplies are dwindling; they're time to evacuate has come.

2,036 employed medical staff, a majority called in for duty during the first hours of the outbreak, once overwhelmed with infected the chances of survival slimmed. Now a majority of medical supplies are conveniently left in this infested six story building. The price is high, but the supplies are within.

"From our artists' hands to your heart"
A busy market at the heart of the city, only open Saturday and Sunday. This market features artists who sell their crafts in stalls, people from all over once flocked here to make unique purchases, now all that remains are the wandering infected and abandoned stalls.

Sometimes, the only way through a horde is to go under them, surviving isn't always pretty, especially when it requires tromping through the sewage.

Once home to 973 federal prisoners, now, just an empty building with work out equipment and locking gates, twenty miles outside of the city. In the final hours civilization a sympathetic prison guard unleashed them, and the ones who weren't infected fled into the surrounding foliage. Three stories, and 400 cells. The fences surrounding are electric, but someone would have to connect to the emergency generator to put them back in effect.

The suburbs nestled right outside of the city were home to the majority of the population. Now many empty houses, abandoned neighborhoods, and of course those too ill to flee remain. The sick have become the infected, few stubborn survivors have stayed in their homes.

Oregon's lone state park, within it's metropolitan regions, is now void of the wildlife that had at one point made it a main attraction to both tourists and those native to the area. The park's only inhabitant is an overflowing brick wall, layered with prayers and Have you seen my... flyers.