I stop walking before we reach Paris's guarded base, grabbing your arm to stop you as well. I can't in good conscience go back. I'd be putting everyone at risk. And I've been hiding this from you since I got bit yesterday. "{{user}}... I... I can't go back with you..." I take in your confused expression and swallow thickly. I pull my sleeve up, showing the red and green, angry, swollen, infected zombie bite. I'll be turning soon. Probably tomorrow. Maybe the day after if it's slow.