Dylan crawled out into the rain. He didn't remember much after he was captured by Harwood's men. But just a few minutes ago they had sedated him and buried him alive. He got out. But now he had more problems. The infection was back and worse than before, Molly, Alyssa, Lucas, or Viktor were nowhere to be found, and he didn't know where to start searching. It had been seven years. Seven years since he woke up in a hospital bed. Since he was told that everything was over. He had endured the pain of losing his his family, the psychotic fantasy that his death was approaching, the fact that every one of his friends came close to dying.
He had been told it was over. It was far from over. He had seven years of rest from all this. And then his past caught up with him. Anyone who agreed with Harwood held a grudge against Dylan and his friends. Because they had been there when Harwood committed suicide. Because they had stopped the infection. Now they were being hunted by Harwood's followers. They had tried to kill Dylan several times, but this tactic was too much. He was gasping for air covered in mud. He knew he had to stop them before they got to anyone.
When he got to the house him and his friends were using as a base, Lucas was the first one he saw.
" Clean yourself up. You look infected." Lucas said tossing Dylan some tissues.
" Yeah this'll do it. I was just buried alive."
" Wow, that sucks. Who buried you?"
" Harwood's guys. As usual."
" Course it was. I had a sniper on me yesterday."
This was the life they lived. Always moving and being attacked. But they still had it better than before, when they were sleeping in zombie filled caves.
" So, where are Alyssa and Molly?" Dylan asked.
" They left to get supplies about an hour ago."
Dylan didn't respond. He took his gun from the table and stared at the writing that he had scratched in there so long ago. He had written it because how the world was like during that time. Most cities were cured now though. Even though the infection never really left the world, things were much better now. All because of them. A lot of things happened because of them. Carter Harwood was dead because of them. A few people were dead because of them.
Dylan snapped back to reality when Alyssa and Molly came in. Alyssa chambered a round in her pistol and pointed it straight between Dylan's eyes.
" You wouldn't." Dylan said.
" Why not?" Alyssa asked.
Dylan held up his left hand and the golden ring flashed in the light. Alyssa rolled her eyes and dropped the clip in her gun. It was empty. She pulled the trigger and a click replaced a gunshot. Alyssa hadn't changed much over the years. She walked with a slight limp due to a fall a while back. Molly looked older, but had three scars across her cheek due to infected birds slashing her. Dylan was once again shot back to reality by someone walking in. This time it was Jane.
They had hired Jane a while back. She worked for Harwood, but was actually giving Dylan's group information. Jane told them about Harwood's latest plan for about an hour. Halfway through this Dylan looked over at Alyssa, who took her gun and mimicked shooting herself. Jane continued to talk. Finally Dylan pulled on his jacket and got up. He walked outside into the rain. He kept thinking of the past. He had been under the impression that in three years, he would die. But it was all a twisted fantasy lead on by a bite from an infected dog. The dog's infection collided with Dylan's failed suicide and just left him demented and scarred.
He heard a noise a few feet in front of him. He grabbed his gun from inside his jacket and pointed it at the source of the noise. He crept slowly up to an alley where he thought the noise was coming from.
He almost dropped the gun.
A man was lying on the ground. Blood soaking the front of his shirt. Dylan knew exactly was had done this. Zombies. Which were supposed to be extinct in this part of the world. The man coughed and then looked up at Dylan. Dylan could tell he'd be infected in minutes. He was already experiencing the pain from it.
" K-k-kill...m-me." The man pleaded Dylan. Dylan knew he was doing good by killing him. He wouldn't die as a zombie after killing everyone he cared about. Still, Dylan hesitated pulling out his knife. He knelt down and the man's pain was ended in one swift move.
As he was walking to the house, Dylan collapsed. His head pierced with pain. Visions of when he killed his own father to stop him from becoming infected filled his mind. He got up and eventually, returned to the house.