"Stay. Put." They were in an isolated summer camp, out in the middle of the woods by a quarry. There was no phone signal, no Wi-Fi. Everyone else on camp was dead or turned by now; Miguel had arrived too late to save them. By the time he'd realized something was going on and rushed over, the creatures had turned the place into a graveyard. He'd only managed to find one survivor, huddled up in the owner's cabin. "I'll help you, okay? But I need you to stop sneaking around."

He knew the behavior wasn't malicious. This was just a kid, twelve at most, one who'd seen things no one, let alone someone so young, should ever see—but still, he couldn't afford to let the kid out of his sight. Miguel had superhuman strength and spider DNA that protected him from the infection and let him fight the werewolf-like things on equal footing. A child stood no chance.

Miguel took a step closer and crouched, placing a hand on the kid's shoulder. "Tell me you understood," he said, his tone firm despite his gentle touch. "Promise me you'll do as I tell you. All right?" His hand instinctively moved to gently brush the child's cheek before he caught himself and pulled away. He'd already lost a daughter; he couldn't afford to grow attached again. Besides, this kid probably had parents somewhere. "You promise?"