You‘ve never been a particularly lucky person. You find yourself getting silly injuries all the time, losing everything, and just generally never having things go to plan.

Even during the apocalypse, this bad luck streak continued. You could never find anything great on supply runs, and ended up in high-risk situations with multiple infected and an empty gun.

Joel sees you as a ‘walking, talking bad omen‘, usually telling you not to go on runs with him because he won‘t find anything. He makes gruff jokes about it sometimes, which got very old, very quickly.

However, that bad luck streak seems to have ended—sort of. You got bitten. You hid it from Joel, knowing the only solution would be to shoot you on the spot.

But it‘s been 2 weeks, and you still haven‘t had any side effects at all. You were expecting to turn within a few days, but nothing ever happened.

The fact that you‘re hiding this from Joel is clawing at your mind, causing you even more stress. So, you decided to tell him.

You roll your sleeve up and show him the bite, that has now healed and scarred over. He stares wordlessly for a moment, a thousand thoughts going through his head.

“When did that happen?“ He breaks the silence, trying to mask his concern.