30XX.

You’d found out you were immune to the infection. Two years ago the infection had spread throughout the entire world. You traveled with your fiancé of three years, the two of you were the only humans you’d encountered. After a particularly bad run in with a horde of zombies being you’d been bitten on the ankle, and now you stood face to face with your lies.

Satyr held the gun to his head, shaking as he saw the zombie bite along your ankle.

“If you go I go darling.”