Alain trudged through the swamp water, keeping the stock of his shotgun pressed tightly against his shoulder as he went. Behind him, the others moved as well, keeping watch for any more undead. They all knew there were more out there, but they seemed to have scattered after the four of them had managed to escape back the way they'd come.

They continued on, eventually reaching dry land. As they pulled themselves out of the water and onto shore, Alain looked up at the moon, grimacing as he did so.

"Five hours left, at most…"

"How do you feel?" Sable asked.

Alain checked himself over, then shook his head. "No different."

"The infection can take time to set in, unfortunately. You might notice it by sight before you'd feel any different. If we had more time, I'd check you over myself, but-"

"That wouldn't do me any good, anyway. Let's just keep moving."

Sable nodded, and they pressed onwards. They'd barely made it onto shore when Alain heard another screech echo through the night, which made him tense and drop down, again pulling his weapon into his shoulder.

"Here they come," he warned. "Watch through the trees."

Next to him, Az cracked his knuckles. "My lady, perhaps it would be best if we cut loose now that we are back on dry land? Give Alain a show in his final hours."

Sable looked to Alain for confirmation, and he shrugged.

"Hell, if you two feel like going all-out for now, be my guest," he said.

"Shit, I was wondering when we'd get to see this again," Felix said. He relaxed, lowering his rifle. "We'll keep you covered and all, but-"

"No need," Sable assured him. She looked back to the treeline, her eyes narrowing. "Now that I'm not being slowed by the water anymore, I can work at my fullest potential. And besides, these monsters owe me for what they did to Alain, and I intend to collect."

"Hell, Sable, you make it sound like this is personal," Alain pointed out.

"For me, it is."

He stared at her, surprised. "...It is?"

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Perhaps it would be presumptive of me to say as much, but I think of you as a friend, Alain."

"No, no, that's not presumptive at all. It's just… I've met a lot of people I'd call friends in my life. Barely remember any of them; we all part ways eventually. I've had a lot of friends, is what I'm saying. What makes me so special to you?"

"That's one thing we don't have in common, then." She turned her gaze back to the treeline. "You claim to have had lots of friends. I haven't. Losing even one… it bothers me, on a deeply personal level."

"Sable, I didn't mean it like that-"

"Do not apologize," she ordered. "Just let me have this. Sit this one out; I need to blow off some steam."

Alain wanted to speak with her some more, but he could tell she wouldn't be swayed. Instead, he nodded, then lowered his weapon.

"Okay," he said softly. "Do your thing, you two."

That was the only confirmation they needed. Az and Sable suddenly took off into the swamp, almost faster than Alain could even follow them with his eyes. They disappeared into the darkness and haze, with the only sounds indicating they were still alive being their grunts of exertion and the screeches of dying undead. Alain couldn't help but tense as he heard one of the walking corpses give a loud, feral scream, which was suddenly cut off by the sound of tearing flesh and splintering bone.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Jesus…" Jasper whispered.

"Yeah, I know," Alain said. "It's a lot to take in at first."

"Have I ever mentioned that I'm glad these two are on our side?" Felix interjected. "Because I can't imagine having to fight a vampire, or whatever the hell Az is…"

Alain said nothing in response, instead clutching onto his shotgun just in case Sable or Az called for help. This proved unnecessary, however, as the two of them returned just a few minutes after they'd disappeared deeper into the swamp. When they came back, Alain couldn't help but note that they were both spattered with blood and viscera.

"Had your fun?" he asked.

"For a given definition of the word," Sable answered. "Would it be hypocritical of me to say I hate the undead? Because I hate the undead."

She punctuated her statement by brushing something off her right shoulder; Alain noted that it was a piece of shattered jawbone still clamped around her. She seemed completely unfazed by it.

"The way ahead should be clear now," she stated. "Come on."

This time, she took the lead, directing them through the swamp as best as she could.

XXX

It took them another two hours of walking before they saw something up ahead – a series of lights. When they saw it, they all dropped into a crouch, staring at it in disbelief.

"What the fuck…?" Alain whispered. "People really do live in this place…?"

"I'm just as surprised as you are, frankly," Sable admitted. "How do we want to approach?"

"Well, I'm already dying, so I'll take the lead," Alain offered. "Figure the least I can do is take a bullet for someone, if it comes to that."

"Let's hope it doesn't. How do you feel, by the way? You should have two to three hours left, by my estimation."

"I feel… completely fine, actually," Alain admitted. "Is that normal?"

"It's… not unheard of," Sable said, surprised. "Different people react to the undead infection much differently than others. Perhaps you're simply someone on the upper limit of tolerance for it? Then again, it's also possible that the entire thing hits you at once down the road…"

"So I am still dying," Alain surmised. "Great. Beautiful, even." He sighed. "Alright, follow me. Let's get this shit over with while I'm still here."

"Alain-"

He ignored Sable's call, instead rising to his feet and advancing towards the light, shotgun in hand. As he drew closer, he saw the source of the light – it was a small wooden shack, in front of which a bonfire had been lit. From this distance, he could see that the shack was very similar to Ariana's shop, with animal bones and herbs hanging down in front of it.

Alain drew in carefully, leading with his shotgun as he went. As he got closer, however, it became clear that the hut was empty. Gradually, he allowed himself to relax, then turned back to the others.

"It's clear," he said. "Come on, we can rest here for a bit."

They all came bounding over to him, Sable stopping by his side. She reached for his wounded shoulder, and Alain went to turn away, but she stopped him with a harsh glare.

"Let me see how bad it is," she urged.

"What's the point, Sable? I'm dying either way."

"Then what does it matter to you? We're resting here, anyway. Quit being a baby and just let me take another look."

Alain gave a tired sigh of resignation, but obliged her all the same, allowing her to peel back the collar of his shirt and take a closer look at his wound.

"How bad is it now?" he asked.

"It's… not bad at all," Sable said, sounding confused. "That makes no sense… it's clearly a bite, and by this point, it should have started to spread the necrosis across your entire body. And yet, I'm seeing no trace of any dying skin even around the wound…"

Alain's heart skipped a beat. "Maybe I got lucky and it was just a dry bite?"

"Undead such as the one that bit you cannot give dry bites," Sable specified. "It's all-or-nothing with them – you're either bitten or you're not, and there is no in-between."

"Perhaps I'm just somehow naturally resistant to the undead plague?"

"You'd be the first, unfortunately," Sable grunted. She let go of his collar, then stood up. "Frankly, I don't know what to make of this. I've never seen anything like it."

"You have a lot of experience with undead, then?" Jasper asked.

"I have enough experience to know what an undead infection looks like when it begins to spread," Sable countered. "And whatever's happening to Alain, it doesn't seem like it's that. I'm at a loss."

"Alright, that's enough," Alain announced, rising to his feet with a grunt. "We've had a few minutes to rest our feet. Is everyone ready to head out?"

"As I'll ever be, I guess," Felix offered. "Lead the way, boss."

Alain went to move towards the door, and was midway through reaching for the handle when he heard something from outside – the rustling of nearby underbrush, followed by the sound of some kind of large animal padding across the ground. A few seconds later, a chorus of low growls went up around them, surrounding the shack. Slowly, Alain pulled his hand away from the door, instead pulling his shotgun back into his shoulder.

"I think we're about to have a problem," he announced.