Nick’s vision was beginning to grow blurry, the world around him spinning as he limped along, following the horde of dead. The smell of death lingered in the air, both from him and the walkers by his side.

It had been two days since he ran off alone, since he left his family. They no longer shared his same views - he needed to be with people who could understand him, especially in the midst of this apocalypse. Nick had originally been given water, but he’d left it behind in his haste to escape a desperate survivor. He was oh so thirsty.

The bite in his leg didn’t help much - it wasn’t from a zombie, rather a rabid dog he’d scuffled with a day earlier. The wound was sure to get infected, he had no medicine, and he was covered in walker blood - his mask, the disguise that allowed him to walk among the dead safely.

Nick began to fall behind, the corners of his vision growing fuzzy. He could no longer keep up with the limping dead. He tried his very best to push forward, but he could no longer. He fell to his knees, the noise alerting the walkers for a brief moment, before they continued on their merry way - he was viewed as one of theres while he’d covered in their blood, they couldn’t tell he was human.

The world began to fade away, Nick felt as if he was viewing the world from underwater, despite being in the middle of the Mexican desert.