by Nathan Allen
That tiny jab of zombie blood, the thing that was meant to kill him. Could that, combined with the untested medication he was taking, have been what had saved him? Maybe it worked in the same way a flu shot – a small amount of the infection is used to fight off the disease. He would have laughed out loud if it wouldn’t have caused him to be in excruciating pain.
Elliott stared up at the ceiling. How could he possibly explain everything he had been through? The seemingly random sequence of events – from discovering Amy and Trent’s affair, to the attack at the processing centre, to the viral video, to the clinical trial, to the assault on the street, to the whole Graves End escapade – that brought him to where he was now?
He looked at Dr. Bishop and took a deep breath.
