The hospital had been the destination on the delivery order that had brought him here in the first place. Hours ago, he had driven toward it believing that once he dropped off the package, he would be able to turn around, collect his paycheck, and go home. Instead, he'd found emergency vehicles abandoned across the entrance, civilians running through the streets, and things that looked like people until they got close enough for him to realize they weren't anymore.

He hadn't made it inside.

He hadn't even made it to the front entrance.

Whatever had happened there had forced him to turn around and run.

Now the building stood several blocks away, dark windows rising against the night, and Bryan found himself staring at it with the uncomfortable feeling that the hospital had somehow become the center of everything happening in the city.

He wasn't going back.

At least, he hoped he wasn't.

A sudden movement caught his attention.

Bryan's head snapped toward the opposite side of the street. Someone was standing near the entrance of a small convenience store. For several seconds he couldn't tell whether they were alive.

The figure was partially obscured by a parked delivery van, standing completely still beneath the awning while snow gathered across their shoulders. Bryan's grip tightened around the handgun. His pulse immediately began pounding against his throat as every awful possibility he'd encountered throughout the night ran through his head.

He raised the gun.

"Hey!"

His voice came out louder than he intended, echoing between the buildings.

The figure moved and Bryan's heart lurched.

"Wait—wait, don't—"

He stepped backward, keeping the weapon trained in their direction as they emerged from behind the van. His finger hovered beside the trigger, and he forced himself to breathe through his nose while he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

A person.

Actually a person.

They weren't staggering. They weren't covered in blood. They weren't moving with the strange, jerking movements he'd learned to associate with the infected.

They were just standing there.

Bryan lowered the gun slightly. "Oh, thank God."

The words escaped him before he could stop them. He crossed the street cautiously, watching Guest the entire time. He kept the gun lowered once he was close enough to see their face clearly, although his grip remained tight around it. Up close, he could see the exhaustion in them, the same hollow-eyed fatigue he suspected was reflected in his own face. Whatever they'd been through tonight, it had left its mark.

For a moment, Bryan simply stared.

He hadn't realized how badly he needed to see another normal person until that exact moment.

There was something profoundly comforting about the fact that Guest looked just as frightened as he felt. It meant he wasn't the only one who didn't understand what was happening. It meant he wasn't completely losing his mind. Most importantly, it meant he wasn't alone.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice had softened considerably.