Here Alone 2017

Sometime after a zombie-like infection decimates the world’s population, Ann, Lucy Walters struggles to survive in the woods. Resources are scarce, and she must live off the land while abandoned houses lure dangerous, infected corpses closer. In this harsh stillness, she clings to the last threads of civilization, keeping a crank radio nearby that broadcasts an emergency message in French—an unfamiliar language that only deepens the ache for a life once known—and tucking away reminders of a past she can’t fully reach.

That past life centers on her husband, Jason, Shane West, and their infant daughter. They are gone, and the story gradually fills in their fate through a series of haunting flashbacks that crop up like fragments of a memory she half-dares to visit.

On a routine return for food from a nearby house, Ann encounters an injured man, Chris, Adam David Thompson, and his teenage stepdaughter, Olivia, Gina Piersanti. She lends a hand, nursing Chris back to health, while wary trust slowly builds toward the two newcomers—yet the path to safety is never smooth, and doubt lingers about whether she can truly rely on them.

A storm soon arrives, forcing the trio to ride out the night together. Over time, Chris and Ann form a quiet, growing bond, a fragile romance that becomes a quiet tremor of unease for Olivia, who watches with a mix of irritation and concern.

The film then reveals a painful truth: after slipping away one night to seek supplies for Ann and their child, Jason is attacked and killed by the infected, leaving Ann to shoulder the burden of protecting their daughter alone. In a moment of desperate misfortune, Ann knocks a bit of white-knuckled luck into motion—while out gathering food, she kills one of the infected, but blood splatters onto her coat. Returning to camp, she finds her daughter crying but unharmed, and in comforting her, the blood from her coat accidentally ends up in her daughter’s mouth.

Soon a devastating sign appears—circular rashes on the baby’s belly—an unmistakable warning of infection. With few options left, Ann makes a brutal, heart-wrenching choice: she grinds aspirin into baby formula and feeds it to her daughter, adding droplets of her own blood to the mixture in a final, desperate attempt to fight the creeping danger.

Determined to move north, Ann plans to go with Chris and Olivia. They must first scavenge food from the familiar house to fuel the long journey. Chris distracts the infected gathered in the yard, while Ann and Olivia stealthily search for provisions. In a cruel twist, Olivia overpowers Ann, ties her up, shouts to draw the danger in, and flees with the food back to camp. Ann escapes the trap but soon discovers Olivia and Chris under attack by the very infected the scream lured.

In the end, only Olivia and Ann survive the brutal ordeal. Staring ahead as the car rolls down an empty road, Olivia rests her head on Ann’s lap, and a shell-shocked, pained scream escapes Ann—an anguished, exhausted cry for all they’ve lost and the fragile, uncertain path that lies ahead. The journey north is theirs to try, but the world around them remains relentless, and the future is whispered with both hope and warning.