Flipside Firefly
He found his way to Salem. The land there was nice, trees heavy with fruit and fields full of crops.
Plus, there were a lot of 'witches welcome' signs. He figured it was a good omen.
There were people in Salem, survivors, uninfected. Some were locals, others had made their way there. All shared a similar belief about the root of the infection.
The Devil.
Plain-faced women, driving gleaming BMWs with men and boys both resting rifles out the windows, cruised through the streets looking for infected - or sinners. Preachers stood outside churches and public buildings, screaming into a crowd that roared back. One denomination burned books, dvds, makeup, clothing and jewellery. Another burned people.
Harry watched, silent and invisible, as a pretty young woman was dragged in front of a rabid crowd and accused of serving the devil. Of spreading the plague. Of being a whore. Of being a witch.
He watched as neither group stepped forward to defend her, not even her sobbing mother. He watched as a pyre was built around her and set alight. He watched history repeat itself.
Then he killed them all, every man woman and child, and moved on.
fin
OOC? Harry considers these people to be just as infected and irredeemable as those with fungus growing out of their ears.