By Walter Greatshell

Survivors of a cataclysmic zombie-making plague depart a brief protection of a refitted nuclear sub to scavenge for nutrients and offers on land. yet they quickly locate themselves dealing with new terrors at the floor and mutiny less than.

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It gave me some small pleasure to see that he wasn’t handling the journey well either. At first, Nolita had been encouraging him, almost leading him down the highway. Eventually, she must’ve tired of it, because she walked alone. Daniels lagged behind, struggling to keep up with me, and I was at the back of the pack. Boden led the way with Bishop a few steps behind him, and Teddy was glued to her side. Teddy and Bishop occasionally exchanged a few words, but nobody else really spoke as we walked.

I knew he was right, so I just took a deep breath and looked away from him. I still needed a minute to calm down. “Everybody, you need to clear out everything from the truck,” Boden said. “Grab anything you want to take. ” I asked. ” He shook his head. “No gas. ” He stepped back towards the truck. I sighed again and looked up at the sun shining brightly above us. It’d been so long since I’d seen it, and I’d almost forgotten how warm it felt beating down on my skin. Even with the chill in the air, it still felt amazing.

Daniels and a few other doctors thought the answer to my immunity might be locked away in some of my glands and internal organs. Scars from incisions were laced together all over my stomach, like my skin was some kind of bizarre patchwork, from all their probing. One doctor had been convinced it was coming from some gland in the base of my skull. He’d wanted to cut open my head and dig around. Daniels had somehow gotten him to drop that idea, so I guess he had saved my life that time. Or prolonged it really.

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