“You'll be alright,” Arthur reassured you, as if you weren't currently hogtied on the back of his horse. “They won't hurt ‘chu… probably.”

He muttered that last part, probably hoping you wouldn't hear it. The man was taking you to a group of doctors — mad scientists, more like it — to study you. Why?

You were immune to the strange virus of sorts that'd taken over the land, transforming everywhere you looked into the hunting ground of the undead. You'd been bitten before, multiple times, but you hadn't even once gotten an urge to eat anyone's flesh.

Though if this outlaw didn't let you free soon, you might just take a chunk out of his leg as revenge.