Aaron had been wandering the forest with Harry for half an hour. They passed by familiar-looking trees so many times Aaron thought they were lost. And the sky didn't look so different either. Nothing but gray clouds blocked out by the green treetops.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Aaron asked.

"I'm positive that I'm most likely sure where I'm going," Harry replied.

Aaron raised his brow in confusion. "What the hell kind of answer was that?"

"I dunno, mate. Most Deadmen are nomadic. You either go where the food is or follow the Abnormals."

"What's your reason?"

"Mostly food. But don't worry. I only eat the dead ones."

"What do you mean?"

"I only eat humans when they're already dead. It's harder to eat when they're screaming and squirming. Gets blood all over the place."

Aaron winced in disgust. "That's very humane of you."

"Plus, I don't like killing people. It feels terrible, especially because my instincts keep trying to convince me that I should enjoy it. The crazy shit I do when I feel hunger pains."

Aaron gulped. An array of thoughts filled his head, most of which involved the horrific scenario of him eating one of his own friends. Would he really be that unstable once the turning process had completed?

"I...uh," he tried to speak. "May I ask what humans taste like?"

Harry glanced back at Aaron before returning his view to the endless forest in front of him. "It's hard to describe it in a way that doesn't sound mental. But it kind of tastes like veal to put it lightly. With a bit of a metallic aftertaste because of the blood."

Aaron grimaced. "That's..."

"And some of the other Deadmen say that children apparently taste best. I personally hate seeing children get hurt, so I only eat the adult corpses."

"That doesn't make it better. In fact, I probably won't be eating for the next few days."

The two of them passed by a seemingly abandoned campground. Three tents were set up around a pile of charred logs. One tent was crushed underneath a fallen tree while the others were still standing. However, Aaron couldn't help but notice the tents' small paint jobs.

Both tents had originally been yellow, but the passing of time had turned them brown with dirt. One of them stood out the most thanks to the splashes of red surrounding the long tears across its front. The sheet of fabric that worked as the tent's "door" dangled open, still stained with blood. Aaron stepped inside.

The first things he saw were the rotting corpses of a mother and child lying on a mattress with bullet holes in the middle of their skulls. Even though their eyes were missing along with the teeth, there were expressions of pure terror on their withering faces. And it didn't help that a spider crawled out of the child's hollow eye socket.

Aaron started gagging. The horrific sight combined with the smell that was equally as bad were too much for his stomach. He struggled to hold back vomit as he picked an old photo up from the floor. In the photo, a mother and a father were holding their little boy in the air, wide smiles on all of their faces. The sun was shining and the campground behind them was bright and lively. On the back of the photo was a message.

Family camping trip in the Bowland Fells! Best vacation ever!

However, the message was scratched out with black pen and another message was written underneath, clarifying how this family's trip concluded.

They didn't suffer...

Trapped in a horrified daze, he let go of the picture, letting it drift peacefully to the floor with the rest of the family. He stepped back out of the tent and dropped to his knees.

"You okay, mate?" Harry asked. "What happened in there?"

"There...was..." Aaron tried to reply, but he kept pausing with every gag. He felt like he would vomit at any second.

Harry poked his head into the tent, not moving a single muscle after that. He turned his head from side to side as he studied the interior, but he did it nonchalantly, as if there weren't two dead bodies in there. He brought his head back out and glanced back at Aaron.

"That's tragic," he said. "Plus, they're too rotten to eat."

Aaron finally composed himself. He let out a few more coughs as a sign of the end of his gags before lifting himself off the ground. His legs were shaking as he stood back up and he still felt nauseous.

"A mother and her child are dead," Aaron said, slightly miffed. "And the first thing you thought about was eating them?"

Harry held his hands out defensively. "In my defense, I always think about eating something if it used to be alive."

"Even me?!"

"Of course! But after I realized you were turning, I stopped. Deadmen taste repulsive, even when they're turning."

"Okay, what kind of shit do you prefer not to eat?"

"Well, now that you mention it, shit. Never had it before, but that would be weird even if I am dead. Rotting corpses, like the kind you'd find in a coffin after a couple of months. And not just humans. Rotten animal carcasses are the worst. And since Deadmen also count as rotting corpses, we taste horrible as well."

"So that's how ravenous you people are? You attack each other just to get a bite to eat?"

"Come on! You really expect us to be as humane as when we were alive?! We're practically animals now, man! We even sound like them, too! If it weren't for your infection, I'd sound like a bunch of hisses and screeches!"

Harry continued rambling about how feral he was compared to Aaron--"...didn't even taste good! It was like eating a..."--to the point where he started pacing back and forth to emphasize his point. As he was distracted, Aaron noticed an axe wedged into a tree stump at the edge of the campsite.

As Harry continued to defend himself in the least convincing way imaginable, Aaron slowly walked over to the stump. He looked deeper into the forest and noticed what looked like another corpse. It took him a few seconds of staring at the mangled shirt, bite marks, and bullet hole through the skull to realize that was the body of the father who spared his wife and child of a fate worse than death.

He knew he should've felt sympathy, but the only thing he had his mind set on was finding that man's gun. Just in case.

"Aaron, are you even listening to me?" Harry asked, finally aware of Aaron's ignorance. "Aaron? Aaron!"

It could take a while to find that gun, and knowing what that man did to himself and his family he was probably out of bullets. So Aaron settled for the axe instead.

He yanked it out of the stump and held it down to his side, seemingly snapping. Harry stepped back out of fear and help up his hands defensively.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"At this rate, I have no goddamn idea," Aaron replied, a crazed look developing across his face. "I'm not thrilled with the idea of committing suicide with an axe. And I also hate imagining what it's like killing someone that I just met."

Harry slowly backed away. "Hold up, kid. What I meant was that your chances of going bloody insane are high, but that doesn't mean you can't resist it."

Aaron held the axe in front of him. "That's the problem, Harry. Resistance takes work. I'd personally rather take the easy way out. I either kill you or I kill myself."

"Seriously, mate. Just think this through!" Harry backed into a tree, having nowhere else to run. He had the honor being the first zombie to have his role reversed. Now he was the one who was cornered. "Think of it as hunting!"

"You're right," Aaron replied with a maniacal smile. "Except for one thing. Hunting requires pursuit."

"So?"

"So I'll give you ten seconds."

"Ten seconds to what?"

"Save yourself."

Without another word, Harry bolted off into the forest, not even bothering to look back. Aaron stood there with the axe in his hand like a serial killer, and several seconds later he was trailing behind Harry through the forest. Literally axe-crazy.

What are you doing, you crazy bastard? Aaron thought to himself. It's only been a day. You shouldn't have lost your marbles already.

"Chill, Aaron!" Harry exclaimed, still not looking back. "You haven't even completely turned yet!"

Or have I? Why else am I trying to kill you?

Aaron frantically swung his axe around to take out any leaves or branches in his way. Twigs scratched his face, which instantly healed seconds later. He was only determined to kill Harry. Something in him just snapped. He didn't want to become an animal like the rest of the Deadmen, yet here he was chasing one through the forest like the tables had turned.

"I'm probably the least qualified to point this out!" Harry shouted. "But you're bloody insane! You're becoming just like me! Only I just kill to eat!"

I am not like you, Aaron thought to himself. I don't eat the people I kill. I just get the job done like a...normal person? That didn't sound right.

"I may be an animal!" Harry continued. "But you'd be a killer!"

Aaron instantly froze. He dropped his left hand down to his side, still holding onto the axe. He and Harry may not be that different (or at least in a few days they won't be), but at least Harry had a reason to kill. He couldn't help it. He had become feral.

Meanwhile, Aaron was aware of everything he was doing. He knew he wanted to look for that gun. He knew he pulled out that axe. He knew that he wanted to kill Harry. And he also knew that he was only a few days away from becoming part of that same violent, animalistic lifestyle.

Aaron turned to the tree next to him and slammed the axe into it, leaving it wedged in the bark. He stared down at the ground in disappointment.

"Harry, I..." he said softly. "I'm sorry. I know you're not gonna believe me given the fact that I chased you with an axe, but I truly am sorry. You're not a monster. You need the human meat for...whatever reason, and I simply tried to kill you out of anger. I'm the real monster here."

He stayed with his eyes focused on the dirt beneath the tree in front him, quietly regretting everything he did in the last few seconds. He expected Harry to come back so they could reconcile, but nothing happened.

"Harry?"

Aaron lifted his head up and stared in the direction Harry ran. All he found was a sea of trees and a small shack about fifty feet away. The only noise he could hear was crunching, like an animal chewing on a piece of wood.

"Harry!" he called out again. He found himself running toward the shack, the sound of his footsteps thundering through the forest.

He approached the side of the shack, brushing his hand against its dirty, white exterior. He slowly peeked around the corner of the building and found the source of the crunching.

Harry and another Deadman--apparently female--were ravaging a corpse, beating and punching it with their bare hands. Harry ripped out what looked like ribs, small white curves drenched in blood. He then crouched down on top of the body and dug his teeth into it, mauling it apart like a wolf. The other Deadman grabbed the corpse's arm and started chewing on its hand, blood dripping down the rest of the arm.

"Harry?" Aaron asked, slowly approaching them.

Harry jerked his head toward Aaron. Every part of his face surrounding his mouth was drenched in a dark crimson. Pieces of flesh hung out of his mouth. His eyes were still devoid of color, yet they seemed sinister and monstrous.

Aaron looked past Harry toward the body. There was a wide hole in the center of its chest and it wore a DZI uniform. Aaron couldn't recognize him, but he could tell he died via MercyMark since his eyeballs were burst open from the impact.

"Hey, Aaron," Harry replied nonchalantly as he licked the blood off his lips. "Check out this fresh corpse we just found! Found him in that shack over there, already dead."

That's when Aaron realized this soldier must've been part of the mission two days ago, before the one that got Aaron discharged. Commander Shaw noted how three Infantrymen went missing. And now Aaron probably found one of them. Or at least most of him.

"I know we weren't on good terms a couple of seconds ago, but I told you this is part of your new lifestyle," Harry replied. "In fact, here."

He held the soldier's arm up and grabbed it by the wrist. He pulled down on the hand until a loud cracking was heard, indicating a fracture. A small tear formed on the side of the wrist and kept extending until blood poured out.

Harry continued pulling until the bones and tendons were visible. The entire arm was now covered in blood. He quickly yanked on the hand and ripped it from the rest of the arm, blood dripping out of the new hole. He dropped the arm to the ground and stood up, holding the soldier's disembodied hand.

"Here," Harry said, holding it out for Aaron. "Try it."

Aaron didn't say a word. All he could do was stare at the hand. Veins and arteries dangled out of the end of the hand and blood continued to drip out.

"Come on. Try it, mate. You might like it."

Aaron felt dizzy. The world seemed to be spinning around him as nausea returned to his system.

"Aaron?" Harry asked.

Everything went black as Aaron collapsed to the ground.