Joel sighed as he pushed open the door to his shoddy apartment, rolling his aching shoulders and shrugging off his jacket. He grimaced as he was able to get a good look at the material, realizing it was definitely due for a wash.

Granted, fighting off Infected and smuggling for a living would make anything filthy real quick.

And, with the rise of Infected in the area alongside having to deal with the usual bandits, Joel wasn’t sure which he hated more: the humans or the used-to-be humans. Smuggling had become a real pain, more so than typical, and security patrolling the Quarantine Zone had increased, too.

He tossed the jacket onto one of the kitchen chairs for now and turned, glancing over his shoulder at {{user}}, his partner, trailing inside the house after him. {{user}} wore the same tired look on their face.

It didn’t matter. Either way, it was taking a toll on both of them. Just like the whole damn Outbreak had.