Chris sat on his bed in his room. He had made it to Vegas. It should've felt like a haven, the military gave him his own room in a "safety complex", they had given him a pistol for self defense, and he even met up with Coach, Rochelle, Ellis, and Nick again.

And yet it felt like a prison. The door of the room was steel, in case zombies attacked. There were windows, but they were barred, in case zombies attacked. But the worst thing about it was that it felt like his apartment back in Miami, which certainly wasn't a good thing. The worst days of his life were spent there.

But really, the building itself wasn't the problem. The problem was that Chris was back at square one. Kelly was gone, and this time, she was gone for good. The one thing that kept Chris hanging on back in Miami was the thought that he would one day see her again. It had given him a sense of hope, a sense of purpose, a reason to struggle through the daily grind, a reason to live.

But now, that sense was lost. Kelly was dead, and Chris was just going through the motions, day by day. He had started seeing less of his fellow survivors, and he spent more and more time alone in his apartment. The more time he spent alone, the more he thought about the events that had happened back on the moon and in L.A.

It was weird, but Chris felt like the best days of his life were just the last few. The time he spent with Kelly and Joe. It was true that Chris had spent all of that time fighting for his life while being chased by brain-hungry zombies, but he had gotten what he wanted most. He had gotten to see Kelly again.

Joe's final words kept ringing in his mind, "Whenever there is a meeting, a parting is sure to follow. However, that parting need not last forever... Whether a parting be forever or merely for a short time... That is up to you…" What did that mean? That was up to Chris? How? Joe, perhaps the only other person Chris considered a friend, was dead as well. He had come into Chris's life and turned reality and logic on their heads, and then he went out. Who was he?

These thoughts raced through Chris's mind as his door swung open. Chris jumped, it was Coach.

"Oh Jesus Christ, you scared me. Can you please knock next time?" Chris asked.

"Son, there ain't gonna be a next time." Coach replied.

"What do you mean?" Chris asked.

"There's been rumors circulatin' that the infection's here. That someone's contaminated. We ain't taken no chances. We're leavin' town. Get your gun boy; we're takin' you with us." Coach said as he walked out the room.

Chris sighed. He would have to start running again. He would have to go out there and keep running. Except this time, Kelly wouldn't be by his side. Would it ever end? Or was running from "safe place" to "safe place" going to be the rest of his life?

Chris sighed and opened the drawer in his nightstand. He pulled the pistol out and went out to the hallway with Coach and the others.

"You ready?" Coach asked. Chris thought for a second. No, he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to begin the nightmare anew. But he had no choice. Chris sighed.

"Yes." Chris replied. Chris began to follow the others, he went into an elevator with the other survivors and started heading down. When it hit the bottom, the other survivors walked out, but Chris stayed in for a second.

"You comin'?" Ellis asked. Chris thought for a second.

"No actually, I have some unfinished business to take care of. You guys go, I'll catch up." Chris said.

"OK, we're gonna be headed west, to the car shop, see if we can find us a ride. Meet us there." Coach said. Chris nodded as he pressed the button to return to his room. Chris understood what Joe meant now. He had a choice. He could still see them again.

When the elevator hit his floor, he walked down the hallway back to his room, he locked the door and walked back to his bed. Chris lied down on the bed and put the gun against his temple.

"Kelly, I'm coming." Chris whispered.

Chris pulled the trigger, and everything faded away.