Chapter One: Transformation

Day three of the apocalypse, the temporary camp on the outskirts of Texas hadn't built its walls yet.

When I rushed back to the defensive line carrying sixteen-year-old Lily, I was already covered in blood and torn flesh.

The bite mark on my left arm, deep enough to expose bone, was still oozing blood as black viral poison spread from the wound.

"Open the gate! Open the gate now!"

I roared, pounding on the chain-link fence.

Lily in my arms weighed almost nothing, the high fever leaving her so weak she couldn't even muster the strength to cry.

"Please, my daughter has a high fever. The medicine is in the supermarket. She's dying. Please go get the medicine!"

Everyone was looking at me. Rex nodded too:

"Go. We'll wait for you."

I believed him.

I actually fucking believed him.

But now, the people in the camp just stared at me. No one responded to my plea.

Rex was the first to raise his gun.

"Get back! Get back now!"

"You've been bitten."

"I know."

I gritted my teeth and pushed Lily toward the fence. She collapsed weakly against it.

"But what about this child? She's innocent!"

Lily's mother rushed over, snatched her daughter away, then backed up three steps like avoiding a plague.

She didn't even look at me.

"Thank you for saving my daughter."

Her eyes were evasive as she said it.

"But you can't come in."

I was stunned.

"Don't look at me like that... I didn't bite you..."

"I only asked you to get medicine, I didn't ask you to get hurt."

"There were three fucking zombies in that supermarket! If I hadn't shielded her, she would've been torn apart!"

"That was your choice!"

"Nobody held a gun to your head."

I looked at the others—those survivors I'd helped move supplies, repair fences, and share food with. Now they all kept their heads down. Not one person dared speak up.

"We're grateful."

"But gratitude doesn't mean we should risk everyone's lives."

With a wave of his hand, two burly men rushed over and dragged me to the outermost fence of the camp.

It was only fifty meters from the defensive line—a place specifically used for dumping corpses and garbage.

Rex confiscated my knife and the half-bottle of water I had left.

The fence was sealed again, and I was isolated in the darkness.

The wound hurt more and more, like countless insects gnawing at my bones.

I curled up against the rusted metal, able to hear the people in camp discussing in low voices when I would die.

Lily lay in her mother's arms, trembling with fever.

"Brother..."

She weakly reached out to touch me, but her mother pressed her hand down.

"Don't touch him! He's infected!"

...

At midnight, the horde came.

Hundreds of zombies surged from the abandoned highway like a tide of rot.

The camp instantly descended into chaos, everyone screaming and running toward the inner perimeter.

Rex stood on the watchtower, holding up a megaphone: "All combat personnel hold the line! Women and children into the bunker!"

Then he saw me.

I was curled up by the fence, trembling all over. The horde was only twenty meters away, and I didn't have the strength to stand.

Rex suddenly smiled.

He jumped down from the watchtower and shot me in the knee.

"Bang—"

The gunshot rang out in the night, drawing the attention of countless zombies.

I screamed, collapsing to the ground.

Faintly, I seemed to hear Rex's voice: "You were going to die anyway. Consider it a contribution to the camp."

The horde surged toward my position.

"Close the gate!"

The steel gate slammed down with a thunderous crash, and welding torches sparked to life. I lay on the ground, watching helplessly as that door sealed shut before my eyes.

Through the gap, Lily struggled to crawl toward me. Her mother held her tightly, dragging her into the darkness.

"Brother! Brother!"

Her voice was so weak it was barely audible.

Everyone prayed silently, hoping I could draw the horde for a longer time, giving them a chance to prepare.

No one thought I would survive.

And no one cared.

The horde engulfed me.

Countless rotting hands tore at my clothes, my skin, my muscles. I opened my mouth to scream but could only manage broken whimpers.

Intense pain drowned out consciousness, and darkness swallowed everything.

I thought I was dead.

But I didn't want to die.

Intense pain tore at my body, extreme burning sensations stabbed at my nerves. I don't know how long it lasted.

When I opened my eyes again, the world in my vision had turned blood red.

The zombies that had been frantically tearing at me suddenly stopped, letting out fearful whimpers and backing away.

I climbed out of the pile of corpses.

Covered in blood, half my face already rotted, but I was still alive.

No, I didn't know if this counted as being alive.

My perception seemed to have become very sensitive, but my brain seemed to have become very slow.

I turned and walked toward the deeper wasteland.

I didn't know what I was now...

Human... or monster...