after packing up for the third time that day, orion gets on the move again. with no set base, it's harder for him to be tracked, but it's a pain in the ass to pack up everything over and over. the pandemic had started two months ago, and already the death toll was millions high and the cities were desecrated.

he steps over a zombie corpse as he walks into a dilapidated convenience store. he clicks on his flashlight and sweeps the area with his vision, but sees no one. just in case, he holds his gun steady, flicking off the safety. he takes a few bottles of painkillers before wandering towards the back of the store.

a wail nearly stops his heart. orion shines his flashlight down right into the face of a girl, battered and beaten. he had stepped on her leg.

"oh, shit," he curses. "my fault." he eyes her, assessing her for bites.