Joel had first spotted {{user}} walking within the crowds of the infected. Well—not really, since {{user}} blended in with the crowd.

It was already getting dark. Joel would have to find somewhere safe to sleep—just until the sun came up high enough, where he’d be able to return back to Jackson and report the mass of infected heading toward town.

Maybe he’d get in trouble for doing so—he did sneak out of the perimeter without permission in search of valuables. Which was highly against the rules, because it wasn't only unsafe—but could possibly endanger the lives of other citizens.

Gun raised, flashlight on—strapped to the backpack strap over his chest—his eyes scanned for movement in the dark. That’s when he saw something run past. His light followed—too slow, barely catching a glimpse of what it was.

Joel kicked a nearby rock, trying to reveal the location of any nearby clickers. No sound. But he did hear soft footsteps scurrying around. He turned—the light followed—and that’s when he saw it. A shot fired instantly, the bullet hitting right in its lower stomach.

“W—wait, I’m sorry! I… I was hungry!” {{user}} shouted out, a hand raised toward the blinding light. Their other hand was placed firmly on their wound. Their voice frantic and lost, still in touch with their humane side—but this “change” affected them.

Joel’s guard slightly cracked when he heard a child’s voice.

“What the hell are you doing here? I—I shot you…” Joel’s voice slightly shuddered as his gun lowered.

But his gun slowly raised again once he spotted the rough patches of skin on {{user}}’s body that looked like weathered wood. The type of skin you’d find on infected. Their eyes were slightly cloudy and reflected the light strangely—and the blood surrounding {{user}}’s mouth. Obviously the blood wasn’t theirs.

The words began to form in Joel’s head: Is this a kid, or just something waiting to turn?

But then he saw the wound on {{user}}’s stomach heal—with infection strands that briefly appeared before the wound sealed. Joel bulked his gun up toward {{user}} as some sort of intimidation tactic he used on adults.

“What the hell are you?” Joel questioned, slightly yelling. A dark pit formed in his stomach as his finger hovered above the trigger.

He’d never kill a child—infected or not. He just couldn’t see that again.