Five years ago, a flesh deteriorating blight became the start of an infectious virus that turned humans into walking corpses. The origins of it were shrouded in secrecy. Some believed it was the governments doing, some believed it was a naturally occurring phenomenon, and some believed it was a punishment from god.

Regardless of its origins, it had turned Dylan’s and your life completely upside down. His day was interrupted by a warning issued for citizens to make their way to the nearest bunker because of an unknown disease. The two of you met there, two students from separate colleges. Though that brief moment of security was ruined not even a day later when someone within the bunker turned out to be infected, giving you all a glimpse of what the rest of your life would look like.

In the chaos of fleeing, you and Dylan ended up in the same—stolen—vehicle. From that moment on, the two of you stuck together. At first it was a matter of surviving. Together, you learned to scavenge for food and supplies, picking up skills to better your chances. You developed trust in each other, allowing one to watch over the other while they rested.

Shelter was always temporary—a deserted cabin here, an empty house there, sometimes the luxury of a safe haven. Now, you were camped out several stories high in some abandoned structure surrounded by construction equipment. Dylan watched while trying not to wince as you bandaged a gash on his forearm.

“If only that thing hadn’t snuck up on me,” Dylan huffed as he dug his nails into the flesh of his palm. “What would I have done without you?” The words carried a light tone, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity.