《The Eye in the Sky》Ruins

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"What is it?" asked Violet. She nudged Evan on the shoulder hard, startling the poor fellow. They had been travelling by foot through the city for the better half of the day already. It would have been easy if it was as simple as a stroll. But they had to be cautious of every step they make. Five hours of continuous tension ate at their nerves. That was why it wasn't so surprising for one of them to break the silence at that point, even if discreetly.

Evan raised his finger to his mouth to tell her to hush down. He glanced around the area quickly. There was nothing in sight as far as he could determine. That was to be expected. They were using the narrow alleys to navigate through the city after all. He could distinctly remember that even in games the alleys were generally less dangerous than the main streets.

He signaled to Frank and the latter nodded at once. After consulting his mental map of the city they chose the one door available to them and entered as they would normally, at least in the context of the situation. Thankfully there was nothing inside as well.

They had entered the back door to a small clothes boutique that sold high-end fashion. Rows upon rows of emptied shelves lined the main area. The back rooms were also empty save for a few scraps of wrappers and plastic. Evan imagined how it would be for the store before everything went to shit. Rich young girls would browse through the displays from dawn to dusk; attractive salesladies would welcome customers through the door; employees would walk about the back rooms, filling the shelves on the showroom with fresh stock. Everyone would be enjoying themselves besides those few purchasing frustrations that happened here and there.

He breathed a sigh of relief. They could rest there for a while, at most for fifteen minutes. Violet had already removed her respirator, exposing her ex-beautiful face. She had taken a cushion to collapse on. She didn't even bother clearing the dust off it. Frank meanwhile, the ever vigilant man that he was, took a position near the front door of the store where he could see everything outside while remaining out of sight. He himself took a seat on top of the counter.

Finally, he could take his mask and jacket off. Cool air finally entered his lungs, causing him to breathe a sigh of comfort and relief.

Violet hugged her sledgehammer as she melted into the cushion. Frank, the only one in their team who had a gun, kept it on hand in case of a sudden emergency. "What was that again?" Evan asked quietly, careful to raise his voice just enough for Violet to hear. He took a pack from his pocket and opened it to eat. It was a ration bar made at camp using crushed insects and berries from the forest. Despite the ingredients it was actually pretty good.

"Well I just thought you had too many things in your mind, so I felt like asking," she replied. Her left eye was still relaxed into a line that looked comically like what he'd seen in anime years ago.

"... I was just thinking of what Nathan had reported. It's quite... unbelievable?"

Violet giggled and almost fell off her cushion. "But isn't that why we're here? Well, one of the reasons anyway. If he was telling the truth then all of this would have been worth it. But we should just treat this as an extended supply run. Our primary objective is to retrieve that weapon. It's extremely hard to find a working one these days."

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That was true, Evan thought. They were currently in a part of the city that hadn't been thoroughly emptied by previous survivors. Whether that was due to oversight for an unbelievable amount of time or from some previous circumstances that prevented them from doing so, it was all up in the air. After all, they'd only been in the area for fifteen days, scouting the perimeter. While a proper survivalist would argue that their lack of information was fatal, Evan would argue that they had already checked the area thrice already. Either way it was at the point where they were confident about making it back alive unless they did something really stupid.

But none of that addressed his doubts. He recalled last night's dinner when Nathan returned from his supply run — with one member less on his team. When he told of Julyette's death to Joseph, he took a punch to his face that even at that point still caused phantom pains on Evan's cheek. Every member gone was a severe blow not only to humanity but to their group especially. Besides, everyone was expected to look out for each other's backs. Trust issues would arise from such accidents. Though, to be honest, he never really thought much of Julyette. She was slow on her feet, easily spooked and seemed like she was always tired. The only reason why she was entrusted with a gun was because she had a talent with it. Specifically she was excellent with shooting at moving targets. That also extended to proficiency with shooting on the run, despite her slow pace. That also meant that when she fell, she took the gun with her.

What really caught the group's attention was the content of Nathan's report.

"You think it exists?" Evan asked while he chewed on the insect-berry bar. Violet's eye opened slightly. She had an absentminded look on her face. Yet there was a sharp feeling to her gaze, not unlike that of a talented boss eyeing her subordinate after he asked something inappropriate. Thankfully it only lasted for a very short moment before her eye liquefied back into the sloppy look it had a second before.

"Doubt it. Like I said, just treat this as a supply run." She rubbed her left eye sleepily and continued. "It's not like we're going to lose anything in doing this. We're scheduled to do a supply run today anyway before we head to Kentucky. That's a few weeks of nothing but bugs, fruits and wild game until we get there. And that's being optimistic."

She was right. Evan sighed. He took another bite from his bar when he saw Violet extending her hand towards him with her palm up. Begrudgingly he tossed what remained of his food — more than half of it to her. A cursory feel of his pockets told him that he only had one bar of that ration left. While it did not actually mean anything other than tell him that he forgot to take another bar from their cook, it did help him feel the urgency of their supply problems.

The supplies they needed to be wary of were ammunition, weapons, tools, spare parts, and canned food — especially canned food. While they were also on the lookout for batteries, they were only able to use lithium ones for the most part. On the way there they were also marking locations with supplies they could still use because it would be more efficient to carry it with them as they returned.

He sighed and stretched. His back made disheartening sounds as he did. As he relaxed, he thought of just how unreal it still felt. Years ago he could remember working at the local blues club in Chicago serving cocktails and occasionally playing the trumpet when invited. He remembered the promotion, the music, the smoke, the news…

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The rain—

"Evan. Hey."

Something prickly hit his face at high speed. It was annoying enough to snap him out of his nostalgia. Looking down he saw that it was the plastic Mark always used to wrap the rations he made. Seriously, he thought, how much of that stuff did he have? It's been five years and the wrapper hasn't changed a single time. Unfortunately there was no more of the stuff left inside.

He then noticed that his back was covered in sweat. At least it wasn't on his forehead or else Violet would be able to easily see it. Then again it wouldn't have mattered. She had unnaturally keen senses. In fact, she should have already sensed his inner turmoil. She was animalistic like that.

"Yes, ma'am?"

Violet stared at him through one half-open eye. Despite her defenseless posture and half-dead expression, he felt like she was dissecting him from afar. He knew he couldn't hide his discomfort from her, so Evan resigned himself to her scrutiny and raised his hands in submission.

She smiled at his response.

"Guess there's such a thing as too much relaxation." She stood up in one quick motion from her sprawled position. Evan immediately understood what she meant and walked over to Frank.

He was quietly observing the road from where he sat. Due to the ski mask and visor on his face, Evan couldn't see his expression. But there was a sort of somberness to his countenance as if he was at peace with what was around him. Evan thought that ridiculous, but also accepted Frank's individuality. It wasn't like there were many people he had to accommodate in his heart anyway. That was probably also the reason why Frank was such an excellent marksman. Well, besides being ex-military.

As Frank continued to observe the road, Evan followed his line of sight. His stomach churned, and he couldn't help but release a groan. Thankfully they were at a distance where the shadow of the store's awnings hid them from view. The sight made him eat his words about understanding the silent gunner. Even so he was already used to the sight, so it wasn't that hard to keep a straight face.

"There are a lot of them, huh?" Frank suddenly said.

"Yeah it's amazing that the smell hasn't gotten to this place."

Truly, it was a miracle. Even after years had passed, the smell inside the store was still rather pleasant. Evan almost felt bad about spreading his body odor inside. Almost.

"Well I don't think they like the taste of fur coats or lingerie," Violet chimed in. She joined the sightseeing pair while brandishing her sledgehammer. They shared a short moment of laughter before they went back to business. Evan in particular thought hard about the subject. As the one in charge of navigation, he had to take into account any possible changes to their route back as the situation developed. He was also the one responsible for getting them to where Nathan had pointed to last night. That was why he was the one giving orders outside.

"How much farther is it from our destination?" Violet asked. Evan thought for a moment.

"Still five more hours at our current pace," he replied. And whenever he specified a time it always had the implication that it would take at least that long. Both Violet and Frank understood that, so they didn't bother asking him twice. Particularly, he and Violet had been working together for so long that they barely needed to explain what they needed from each other when they were out on the field. Efficiency was a key component in survival.

Evan put away the mental map on his head and took in the sight one last time. Violet, already having lost interest, had already walked back to where they came in. Frank followed suit after giving Evan a pat to the shoulder. It was time to go back to work.

He could only hope that no more incidents occurred just like last night's. Though Julyette was a problem child, she was still a part of their team. And she was still young. She shouldn't have died. Evan gritted his teeth and turned around.

"Damn fuckers."

Thankfully, the thousand-odd zombies outside didn't hear him.

An hour after their break they had to stop again to wait for a wandering horde to pass by. Wasting precious hours wasn't part of the plan, but it was part of Evan's considerations.

They continued traversing the alleys after that, deftly avoiding as many undead as they could. That way they penetrated deeper into the city without making as much sound as a student absentmindedly tapping his table with a pen. While they could easily dispatch the undead in their way, it was better to take detours to prevent accidents. However, there were some who they couldn't avoid.

He raised a fist. He heard Violet and Frank's soft footsteps stop behind him. They repeated this for every corner they had to turn just in case. He fished a small mirror from his breast pocket to check the corner. On TV, he had seen those firearms that could shoot from behind cover but unfortunately they hadn't seen any of those lying about. Thankfully, it wasn't snowing so visibility was decent.

He raised two fingers to tell them of the enemy's numbers. Violet came forward after giving him three pats on his shoulder. According to their practice, it meant that they should leave it to her.

The zombies were sensitive to anything that stimulated the five senses. That was why they avoided using flashlights and kept their conversations at a minimum. But that also meant they were sensitive to what their kin did, to some extent. He had once seen a zombie trip over a fence and fell right on top of a pile of glass. Within minutes the entire place became packed with undead. However, when he threw a pebble among a pack of undead only very few took notice. After he discussed this with other survivors and listened to their observations he deduced that zombies only immediately reacted to stimuli that they directly perceived, while they took a bit of time to respond to the actions of their peers. It was valuable information that saved his hair many times.

Violet ran swiftly towards the two shambling undead; her footsteps barely made any noise despite more than eighty pounds of equipment on her body. Her first swing shattered one zombie's face and buried the second one's head into its chest with her second. Then she pulverized all of their limbs in quick succession. All of this took a mere seven seconds.

None of them were unfamiliar with the zombies depicted in games and movies. Most if not all of them were vulnerable to head trauma, while some could be taken down by shots to the vitals.

But the zombies they faced weren't like the typical Zs written in books or shown in movies. They were extremely persistent. It didn't matter if you cut their heads off or blew a hole through their chest. They will live despite that. The only way to truly get rid of them was to burn them to ashes. Or at least they could completely disable them by severely mangling their limbs. If they didn't then even headless zombies would crawl and grab onto people to weigh them down despite losing their ability to bite them. For some reason zombies whose limbs have been mangled would die out over the course of a few days, which conflicted with the state some of them turned. Well, zombies were illogical in the first place.

And while people argued that axes were more silent than sledges, the former required more maintenance. Blunt weapons were good so long as the head didn't fly off or if the shaft didn't break. And on top of that Violet preferred it since it also doubled as a way of preventing the undead from making sounds from their mouth with a well-placed hit.

Violet waved her free hand to tell she was done. Since there were no other paths nearby he quickly tapped Frank and jogged to where Violet stood.

"How far?" she asked with a muffled voice as she wiped the blood off her visor. She then removed her hood to let the heat out before placing it over her head again.

He held out four fingers and then two. Violet immediately understood what he meant; four blocks straight then two blocks in another direction. Along the way they needed to cross a total of four streets, which would place them out in the open. Usually they would cause some sort of noise in a distant location to attract them there. The louder the better generally; explosions were ideal. For areas with sparse gatherings though, it was quite safe to just run through them, but it had to be said that doing so would render that route unavailable until a later time due to their attracting the attention of other undead. In their case it was imperative that they secure the same route back, as they were in quite deep in the city, so passing through them was out of the question. They would eventually have to cause disturbances. It was too dangerous to take another path since what may have been safe the day before might be crawling with them the next. Also, they wanted to take the supplies they marked along the way.

As they slowly made their way through the streets, the path gradually started to become more dangerous. Soon it came to the point where it matched the density of zombies they found at the place where they took a break.

And considering that they were near the middle of the city already... it was weird.

Two rapid pats to his shoulder immediately shifted his attention to nearby doors. He quickly recalled that the door to their immediate left was the backdoor to a seamstress' atelier. It was the ideal place to hide in.

Thankfully it was unlocked, so they did not have to kick down the door. The occupant must have been in a hurry to escape if a shop door was left open. They quickly combed through the small workshop and determined that it was safe. However, they could not rest.

Two quick pats to the shoulder meant a signal for an 'emergency meeting'. When given that signal, Evan was tasked to immediately determine the best place to regroup, preferably at a place where they could stay for an extended period of time. He judged that between a seamstress' place, an ice cream parlor and a café, the first was the most ideal. It didn't have any of the supplies survivors prioritized searching for, which made it far less likely to have undead inside.

Violet immediately went down to business. They only had until dusk to get to their destination, so they had to make it quick. Evan checked his watch, a solar-powered wristwatch. 4:54PM it read. They had just slightly more than an hour left to cover three blocks. It took them a bite more than what he predicted earlier at the store due to running into the moving horde. Waiting for it to pass took an hour from them; an hour that they didn't have.

"Please tell me you also noticed what I did, Evan."

"..."

She truly had exceptional senses.

"Heh... then it looks like Nathan might not have been lying."

So saying, she placed her sledgehammer on the strap on her back. Then she took out another weapon, a taser baton from her backpack.

Zombies were resistant to electrical shocks below a certain threshold. If one was able to shock them without enough juice to light them on fire, it would only serve to hinder them momentarily. Living creatures, meanwhile, could be immobilized for a while with even a slight zap. And while batons could inflict blunt damage as well, it was easy to imagine that sledgehammers were far more effective at it.

In other words, Violet had switched to her anti-'human' weapon.

"Huh? What's going on?"

Frank on the other hand had no idea about what lead to that situation.

"There's no time to explain. I'll let Evan tell you later when we get back to safety."

She might have said that to convey the urgency, but what she actually wanted to happen was for him to explain it instead.

Evan thought back about what they had come across during their trip there. Nathan's team was supposed to be the first one to comb the area, while Violet's would pick up any supplies he couldn't carry. That was just last night. So within less than twenty-four hours the distribution of the undead had become uneven within the city.

That shouldn't have been possible. Or at least, it was an extremely unlikely occurrence. The zombies behaved like a herd, but it was slow to manifest inside their status quo. After a decade of zombie infestation, the distribution of undead within cities generally favored areas just slightly past the perimeter of the city. That is, there should have been fewer undead the deeper one went to the city. That was because after years and years of the city's supplies being raided by survivors, the zombie population was slowly pulled out of the center in their chase after them whenever they were seen. The end result was a spread that resembled that of a doughnut. There were few exceptions to this, such as shopping malls or train stations. Evan guessed that after a few more years, possibly after another decade, the zombie density would peak at the borders of the city, preventing any survivors from even being able to enter it.

And that was what was weird. Even if Nathan had disturbed the nest for one night, or rather even if they had disturbed that nest multiple times then it should not have been possible to completely change the zombie density. Encounters with supply runners were mostly short-term events after all.

When they entered the city early in the morning, the density curve was within their expectations. Within the first few hours of entering the city they had passed through thick hordes Thousands of undead stood idle in the middle of the street the clothes shop overlooked. However, after another few hours of penetrating the urban jungle, the density suddenly became erratic. There were areas where there were almost no zombies such as the place where they just passed through, and there were areas that had enough of them to form a migrating pack. And as they entered the center of the city, the swarm suddenly became alarmingly dense.

That meant that there was something... or someone disturbing the balance. And whatever it was, it would have had to be there for months already.

Was someone trapped in the middle of the city? Or maybe that person chose to stay within the zombie-infested streets. If it was the former then that meant that person had survived in the middle of a city infested with millions of zombies for only God knew how many days. And considering that there was evidence of prolonged disturbances on the zombie population then their target didn't spend that time in peace and quiet.

Nathan reported being saved by someone when they had been surrounded by the undead. "It jumped down from somewhere n' cut open a path. But when we ran, it didn't come with us — instead it went back n' disappeared."

Nobody believed in ghost stories, but everybody could at least understand that Nathan wasn't delirious. Andy, the other member of his team, corroborated his story as well. It was very unlikely for two people to hallucinate seeing the same thing. They needed to do another supply run anyway, and if they could retrieve Julyette's M4 and ammunition then it would be even better. If they encountered Nathan's mystery knight-in-shining-armor, then they would attempt to negotiate for a chance to increase their numbers, or get away with as much as they could possibly take. It was a dog-eat-dog world. Their one run would hit three undead with one bullet.

As they turned the last corner they were greeted with an alley that was thoroughly littered with dismembered undead, complete with their heads crushed or missing. Instantly their alertness rose to their very maximum.

Nathan and Andy would not have had enough time to dismember them in their hurry to escape. While a lot of them had wounds characteristic of the axe and bat they carried, they appeared to have been made with the intention of just driving them back. That meant that they were sliced apart after the incident. That also meant that if what Nathan had implied was true, then the entire scene of carnage in front of them had been done by one person. And that was a problem.

Evan surveyed the surrounding buildings carefully, wary of being watched from higher ground. Meeting strong people who could survive the apocalypse wasn't always a good thing. It would have been fine if they were friendly, but if they were otherwise then they would either have to get rid of them immediately or run away. Both had risks, and they didn't want to risk their lives for something that might not bring them benefits. Plus the ensuing conflict might attract any number of undead to their position. Considering a decade of the 'eat or be eaten' mentality had already passed, good people were quite scarce. But though that would have been a logical concern under normal circumstances, the source of Evan's anxiety wasn't actually that.

He looked at Violet whose face was hidden under a respirator and goggles. Though he couldn't see her expression he knew from her body language and the surrounding air that she wasn't nervous at all.

She was excited. That was what worried him. Yet, all he could do was to believe in their team leader.

They stopped at the end of the alley, right before their target destination. Upon checking, he saw that there was not a single zombie within five hundred meters on the main road. At that point he didn't know whether to call it strange or not.

There was barely any sun left for them to work with. Though they were within the expected time of arrival, that didn't mean they had any time to lose. The dilapidated buildings and stores with broken glass appeared in an ominous light. Due to the silence of most of their operation, even the slightest sound would catch his attention. The city as it was looked like a true scene of an apocalyptic world. Broken cars, bikes, and even shopping carts littered the road. The color of rust died the background an eerie hue. There were broken corpses scattered around as well. The sight of bones had become the most common sight for them. Even the wind, which many people thought to be a blessing on a midsummer, only caused hair-raising howls as it cut through the empty alleys.

Violet, who had taken over his role at the head of their formation, slowly inched forward. Evan had taken an empty building and positioned himself on the second floor after making sure there were no walkers inside. She stopped and hid behind an old Benz; a relic of the past covered in rust and rotten guts, while Frank took up position beside a mail box. Their gunner kept his eyes high, wary of the surrounding buildings. Meanwhile, Evan surveyed the road, looking for their primary objective.

They did not have the luxury of staying to look for their mystery savior. Their primary purpose was to retrieve Julyette's rifle and run back with supplies. After a decade of pilfering, there were only very few things that remained inside the city. Convenience stores were the first to go, then the groceries, then the warehouses. People tend to avoid the malls for obvious reasons. There were those desperate enough to dive into those zombie sardine cans of course, but they had mostly all died out within the last decade. But even though the amount of resources within the cities had dwindled to almost nothing, it was still a necessary risk. There were some items that could only be taken from cities such as lithium batteries, spare parts, tools, etc. That was if one didn't count stealing them from others.

It didn't take him long to see the rifle. Though the streets were a mess, guns tended to attract the eye of people who lived in the apocalypse. However, what really caught Evan's attention was what lay beside it.

He couldn't help but make the sign of the cross.

The corpse's head had already been crushed and her limbs removed, likely courtesy of their unknown target. That immediately gave that person a favorable impression from him. After all nobody wanted to live on after their deaths wandering as one of the dead. Well, mostly nobody. Though most have already resigned themselves somewhat to their fates due to seeing headless corpses still turning, it was still far better than otherwise.

After retrieving the weapon, they were to return to camp, collecting the marked supplies as they went. The return trip should be easier as the main reason for their unfavorable pace was due to the dangers of running across detached undead groups. However, they've all but cleared the way back and if they move quickly enough then it shouldn't be a problem. The night would be both an advantage and a disadvantage for them as the zombies couldn't see well in the dark either. Violet and her unnaturally keen senses had gotten them out of tight situations more times than Evan cared to count.

Evan signaled the location to Violet, who quickly spotted the weapon from her position. Though there were no zombies around, she still cautiously approached the target while being wary of any surprises. Just because they couldn't see them didn't mean they could relax. A moment's carelessness could accidentally cause them to do something absolutely stupid. This was especially so where they were at. In that place, the silence was almost deafening. There was always a kind of suspense in the air during the halfway stage of an operation. Thus, any noise they made would travel a long way and perhaps attract a hidden horde. Plus they still had to watch out for Nathan's phantom savior.

The best time to jump out and ambush them was that one moment when Violet had to place a fraction of her attention to the rifle as she picked it up. That would be the time when they are separated by the greatest distance as a group. If one of them were to be held at gunpoint or even by a knife to the throat then the other two would hesitate to take action. And the most vulnerable to that was Violet, who was at the open.

As she came closer and closer the tension thickened to the point where you could cut through it with a knife. Evan scanned the road again to make sure nobody, living or otherwise, could be seen.

Cautiously, she moved, always checking around her. The seconds passed by... until finally, she arrived at where the rifle is. She took one brief moment to lay her hands on Julyette's corpse and immediately took the rifle.

Nothing happened.

Violet quickly shuffled her way back to cover. Still, nothing happened. All had gone according to plan. They were done.

No undead appeared and no human did either. Finally, they could return. Evan breathed out. As they indulged in a moment of relief, Violet looked back at Evan. Next would be her giving the signal to retreat. But instead she did something completely different, something that baffled him for a moment.

Immediately, he knew something was wrong.

"BEHIND YOU! EVAN!"

She shrieked, uncharacteristic of herself. Her voice, though muffled by the respirator, rang loud throughout the area. But it was too loud. For a second it stunned Evan whose first reaction was to wonder why she shouted like she did. "Quiet, you'll attract those things," he wanted to say. But then his brain processed her message. His heart stopped.

Time seemed to slow around him. He turned and first managed to catch a glimpse of Frank. His eyes were wide as saucers. He was drawing his rifle away from the road towards him. Then, his peripheral saw something else.

A pair of damp hands caught his head and neck. A wet, gurgling sound reached his ears. Teeth, stained black and red, came faster than he could react towards his throat.

Before he could even yell, blood splattered out the window.

The Leak.

That was what everybody had started calling that recurring event. It started on the 21st of December 2030. Rifts — 'eyes' suddenly opened on the skies across the world. Seven of them in total. Each eye easily exceeded the size of Texas. And from those eyes flowed 'tears'; monsters; the undead. They dropped from the sky within a protective layer of liquid not unlike how Evan imagined placenta would be if it was blue.

They were fast — incredibly so. Their speed easily outmatched that of an average human at full sprint. They were incredibly resilient as well. As they resembled the zombies of movies, armed response was to shoot their heads. But that didn't work. Even with their heads separated from their bodies they could still grab onto hapless victims, allowing everything else to consume them. Everybody they bit turned and only added to their numbers — the walkers, the runners, the Zs, the zombs. Many names. And that wasn't all. The dead and buried also rose from their graves, those who died but weren't bitten still turned, even corpses isolated from the event started moving. It was a scene straight from fantasies.

And hell, probably.

Regardless of the carnage, the opening of the first 'Leak' was a magical sight to behold. Only very few still alive had borne witness to it. Though there were videos of the event on the internet for some time when the internet had still worked, it didn't match the feeling of being able to personally witness it. And after a decade had passed, those few people had all but disappeared. Probably. He wouldn't know. He was likely one of the few left. Nobody had been broadcasting the state of the country for over five years. The last radio transmission they've ever received was from the sole survivor of some sort of military base. Before his death he would often broadcast the state of the apocalypse, play music, or make small talk with an imaginary girl. Occasionally he would also release select information on the whereabouts of zombie-less locations or those with supplies. Then again, he would also brag about how much food he had to himself at times so a lot of people would also comment about how annoying he was. Still, he was a source of relief and a ray of hope for everybody whether they admitted to it or not. And his last farewell, tearfully delivered on a background of undead groans, had shaken all the survivors on the ground.

Five years of complete radio silence had a way of drilling into people's heads how alone they truly were. And after that, things went from worse to catastrophic. In a way, that man with his insensitive humor kept most people from completely succumbing to despair. People would tune to him just to hear him. And by that time five years of the apocalyptic depression had already accumulated, ready to explode with the slightest provocation.

Evan could only thank his luck for being able to join a good group. He had been with many other groups before. But they, the 'Black Troupe', were special. They weren't great survivalists, nor were they trained combatants. They were simply used to being alone. With them he was able to survive for over six years in a land of scarcity and brutality.

With them, he had hoped that someday—

... But that was already a far off dream. The blood he saw fly from his neck somehow comforted him. Though he continued living, he did so through suffering. He knew he would be properly disposed of by his team afterwards. The pain will end soon after, and he will be released.

Well anyway that was what he thought.

"Aeh...?"

A dumb sound escaped his lips. Strangely there wasn't any pain — just an overwhelming sense of fatigue. A moment passed then two, then several. He still didn't feel the bite he knew for sure would come. It took all of his remaining strength just to remain standing. Through all of it he kept his eyes firmly opened in order to see what he thought would be his final moments. Instead, he saw the undead behind him stop moving completely. Then slowly its head, together with half of its torso, fell to the ground. Behind it, he saw—

It had been so absurd that he had pushed it out of his mind. But Nathan's words rang in his head again.

"That person looked strange, though. It was wearing something that looked like a nun's habit. But it was heavily padded with s'thin like leather armor. Couldn't see a sliver o' skin on 'em. It had a curved sword like from the movies. Couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman 'cuz its face was entirely covered."

"What the fuck?" was all he could say.

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