Lineir spent all night tossing and turning, trying to find a solution but could come up with nothing. There was only one logical ending to him being discovered and that was his head under the guillotine! To make matters worse, he felt sicker and sicker as the night went on. On his back, he had discovered that where his clothes had made contact with the horrid undead, there were now five glowing spots which had begun to appear where the fingers had grazed him. These spots spread overnight into a interconnected tangle of swollen veins which itched terribly. To hide it, Lineir threw on his his thickest most concealing shirt. The boy took some time to think and walked out to a different gate. He dared not return to the scene of his crime, but he needed to find a new spot to search for valuables. His sister couldn't support them both on her own. With a huff, he hurried by the gate which had been reinforced with additional men overnight.

They called out to him,

"Take care of yourself traveler, there's been undead round this parts!" But afterwards they paid him little heed. People exited the gates all the time from all over. The guards had little stake in the comings and goings of Brackenrock City. Outside the gates, Lineir found himself sighing endlessly. No matter how he searched, he was unable to catch the slightest break. All his usual spots were mined out, and he once again found himself nearing the tombstones of the Deadzone.

"What are the odds of there being more undead inside? The White Horizon's Sect ought to have exterminated them all yesterday. Still...do I count myself as a lucky man?" Working himself up to it, Lineir stepped ever closer to the first headstone which marked the Deadzone, unable to cross that line. As he neared the divide, he sighed once again and turned back.

"It's not worth my life, only a fool would risk his life for this! I'd be better off pickpocketing. At least I would die cleanly and be buried properly!" At that exact moment, his back ignited in flaming pain, and Lineir folded over onto the ground gasping. It felt like something was trying to dig its way out of his back. A sickening squelch came from his back, as a blackish-purple spider erupted from the infected area on his back and plopped to the ground. It was swollen, almost engorged, with a glowing red orb on its back. Looking closely, it seemed to be filled with Lineir's blood.

The blackish-purple spider quickly scuttled away into the Deadzone, and all faded to silence. Lineir lay there, bleeding, with a hand-sized portion of flesh missing from his back, and fought for breath. Eventually, he was about to try to stand, when he heard the sound he most dreaded for the second time in his life.

KAAAAAAHSSSSSSSssssss

The call of a higher undead!

Lineir tried to scramble up but it was to no avail. His weakened body didn't have an ounce of strength left and refused to obey his commands. He could do nothing but flail about like a turtle on its back, unable to right itself. Soon, he heard footsteps nearing, and then felt grasping hands on his legs. They were lifted up by something, and he began to move! He was being dragged away by the undead, deeper into the Deadzone! Tales of undead hordes consuming men, making the living into one of them, flooded Lineir's mind. Nobody knew whether those eaten by the undead were still conscious, trapped forever in an endless cycle of rot and decay.

Lineir viciously fought to get away, he clawed at the ground and tried to kick free, but whatever was carrying him, didn't care in the least. With a last feeble kick, Lineir passed out as his bloodloss and exertion caught up to him.

As he drifted off, he thought to himself,

"At least now, nobody will know it was me that got the White Horizon Sect's experts killed. My sister will be safe...I hope."