June 16th, 2020.

Covid had evolved. It was at an all time high. Now, catchers of the virus became flesheating, bloodsucking husks of their old selves. Miles had invited you and a few others to his island, as he had taken an interest in your group of people. He smiled as the boat to his island pulled up at the banksy-made dock.

"Hellooooo, you beautiful non-infected people...! I'll assume you got checked for infection at the gate before coming?"

Miles held up a scary looking white gun.