It had been years since the outbreak first happened.

It was always loss after loss after loss. . . but you found yourself gaining something. No. Someone.

After a group had figured out you were immune to the fungi, they (barely) convinced Nate to take you to another site across the states.

Nate was a man of few words. The first few nights you bickered with each other.

“You’re just cargo, {{user}}.” He muttered through gritted teeth. “Nothing else.”