As the deadly infection spreads, enveloping the world in suffocating despair, you are forced to endure the new horrific reality alone. An unexpected encounter with an enigmatic stranger changes everything. Your first meeting with him almost ended in...
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Simon talks, talks, and talks. His voice reverberates through the room. It's firm, resolute, and leaves no room for negotiation or dispute. Refusing to abandon the search, he tells you that returning home without your brother is no longer a viable option. He presents you with a choice: you can stay in the shop, wait a day or two until Simon returns, or you can go with him. Regardless of your decision, Simon will be leaving. He will go looking for your brother, with or without you, by his side.
"Simon, please," you implore, your voice heavy with exhaustion and frustration. You draw in a shuddering breath, the air around you heavy with tension, and release it slowly as if you're deflating a balloon of your pent-up fear. You walk closer, only coming to a halt when you're standing right in front of him. "We can't keep going anymore. I want us to go home. I want us... you to be safe." Your eyes lock with his. Your shoulder is still throbbing, but you keep your back straight. You don't dare to glance at your wound, not wanting to reveal you have been bitten, not wanting to add more burden to his already heavy shoulders. Not yet.
His lips part, as if he's about to speak, yet he bites his tongue. After a few moments of silent contemplation, he finally forces his chaotic thoughts into coherent words.
"My life, and my efforts to preserve it—they no longer matter," he says and rubs his face before turning and walking away. As he moves, he nudges you lightly with his shoulder. It's an unspoken request for you to move aside and give him some space.
"What do you mean, it no longer matters? Of course, it does." Your trembling hand reaches out to grab his arm, hoping to stop him, to make him turn around and look at you. Yet, halfway through the motion, you hesitate, your fingers hovering in the air before you withdraw your palm and take a step back.
Since your narrow escape from the ravenous horde of the dead, you've done nothing but engage in relentless arguments. Your voice, once soft, now echoes with the harsh clang of surrender, a desperate plea to abandon this doomed crusade. Yet, no matter how hard you attempt to rationalise with him or how passionately you articulate your unwillingness to have him risk his life for your sake, his resolve remains unwavering. He stares at you, eyes clouded with confusion, unable to decipher the sudden shift in your behaviour—your abrupt, jarring decision to forsake the search for your brother. You are aware of what needs to be done to put an end to this futile back-and-forth. Still, it's a challenging task to muster the courage to express your thoughts, to reveal the secret you've been hiding from him.
"Just a short while ago, you were determined, insistent on finding your brother. It's impossible that in the span of a mere ten minutes, you've so drastically changed your mind, deciding that this is no longer what you truly want." He pauses, turning around to face you, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "I'm running out of time, and I have to help you before it's too late."
You are perplexed, unable to comprehend what he is trying to tell you. As though in slow motion, he extends his arm towards you. You notice the torn sleeve of his jacket. Suddenly, a heavy weight descends onto your shoulders, like a slab of ice, sending shudders down your back. You attempt to speak, to ask what's happening, but the words remain trapped in your throat, choking you. Simon unrolls his sleeve, revealing the dried blood that stains his skin. As he peels away the fabric further, the shocking sight of an awful wound comes into view. It's a bite mark, cruel and jagged, as if teeth have been brutally drilled into his flesh.
