A figure moves through the fog. Her name is , born six years after the Rage Virus burned out. She’s never seen an Infected alive — only footage. Old. Grainy. Like something from a previous century.
She runs. The camera pulls up. Behind her, the tunnel exhales a cloud of pale dust — and from it, shapes begin to unfold. Not sprinting. Standing . Waiting. A figure moves through the fog
…don’t… don’t… don’t…
But sometimes — when the pressure changes, when the moon is wrong — you hear them. A figure moves through the fog