….
Outskirt the Luxebridge City
Ronan kept walking, but he no longer felt his legs properly, as if his body was moving on its own while his mind faded in and out. His vision blurred at the edges, and every step felt heavier than the last, but he forced himself forward.
The pain in his shoulder spread towards his neck, back, and chest. He bit his lower lips, his brown iris shrinking from the persistent wave of pain.
His body lacked strength. A part of him was ready to give up, but how could he give up when he hadn't seen the love of his life? No matter what, he must live, he must meet her again.
Don walked ahead of the group with baseball bats in his hands. His brows knitted in confusion, as no they had not encountered any infected. He didn't believe in luck, nor will he believe in coincidence.
Something was strange and he could feel it at the back of his throat.
Ronan's throat burned, and his lips were dry and chapped. His body tilted as he walked.
