the last few days. She is crying in relief as the tension gripping every muscle fibre in her body is released and finally unwound.

She stares at him thankfully but curious as he approaches to make sure she wasn’t bitten. As he closes in she can see the bloodshot veins that spread out from the yellow rings around the pupils of his eyes, like the thick roots of a tree. Surrounding them is that same sickly yellow skin the rest of the zombies have. But again, he looks different.

He is not panting for breath frantically. He is not drooling or crouched over with that look of insatiable hunger in his eyes. Instead, he looks calm, is wearing a hoodie, has a scarf covering his face and strangely, as the now dead gang of savages on the ground behind him found