293

You check the time—9:15 pm.

A gunshot cuts the air outside, causing you to flinch and drawing your attention outside. You peek through the curtains over the windows—nothing moves on the street except for a few zombies. Have they become so commonplace already that you expect them now?

One of the figures catches your eye. A gold chain with an oversized charm swings from his neck. Though his dark skin has paled from the viral attack, you know it's the man from earlier today. Part of his face is missing, and dark blotches of blood cover the rest like a mask hiding the undiseased flesh beneath it. That's not the case, though—the virus isn't that fair to its host.

He wanders down the street and joins a few others of his kind. Soon, he blends into the pack, which carries him away, and you turn from the window.