Chapter 01

Just keep running.

You fall, your foot getting caught on a root,  but he arrives just when you need him the most and wards them off.

“Don’t worry,” He says, extending a hand and pulling you up. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

You brush a strand of fair hair away from your face and smile. You’re safe, for now. But those things are still out there and every waking moment you risk turning into one, no matter what anyone else says. They said that Threshold is hell, but that’s just the start of your torment if you turn into one of them.

He hands you a gun. Personal defence, he says, he needs an extra pair of hands to get down the highway to the next town. You look down at the hunk of metal in your shaking hands. A resigned sigh.

And a nod.

You run, together, down the abandoned road, where cracks in the concrete send you falling to the ground, your head colliding with the ground with a dull thud. The pain is unbearable, you scream in agony as the small trickle of blood down your face scares you more than anything because they can smell it and they can feel it. You crawl; get back to your feet, and run, through all the pain, because it’s nothing compared to what they will do to you if they catch you. The pistol lies discarded on the ground where you fell.

You catch up to your saviour. He’s concerned about your wound, but you tell him you’re fine and that you just have to run. You take two more pained steps.  

You look down at your legs. The fabric of your jeans is torn around a large chunk of metal lodged in your leg. You look back towards your saviour as you start to cry.

But he walks back towards you, despite everything that’s happening, despite not knowing who you are, or your history, or even your name. But he comes back for you, like so many before him haven’t. And he picks you up, and he carries you.

“Don’t worry,” He repeats. “It’s not far from here.”

So you carry on, until you reach the end of the highway and the start of the woods. He says its safe but you’re not sure. He sets you down, anyway, and opens his pack and takes out some supplies. He tells you to bite on something, since what he’s going to do is going to hurt. You nod and bite down hard on a piece of wood. The pain sends your whole body into shock.

Your world turns dark.

You awake a moment later, as he’s cutting open your jeans to get closer to the wound. The pain is dulled now, as he takes out a spray and uses it to cauterise the wound. He says the spray was made for them, but that he hopes it works. It does. He bandages it up and asks if you can stand. You can, thankfully, but you’re favouring a leg and don’t know how long the bandages will hold. He says that’s fine, you don’t have much further to walk now and if you just stay close he’ll make sure they don’t get to you.

They haven’t gotten to you yet, you say, but he shakes his head. Complacency is death.

You pass through the forest without incident, but you hear scratching, clawing, feral screams. A reminder of what you don’t want to become, and a reminder of what you’re facing. These aren’t people anymore, says your saviour. They lost their humanity long ago. But you can’t hold them responsible. They’re just slaves, tools, freaks of science.

There’s nothing you can do but pray you don’t turn into one.

You walk out, onto the ground, the harsh darkness of the forest giving way to the dim urban sunlight.

Then you reach the ruins of the old world your mother used to tell you stories about.