ANGEL
It’s been over a month now, and the situation shows no sign of improving. It’s getting worse out there if anything. He expected that, really. Each day it’s getting harder to do this, but he has no choice. If he could, he’d find somewhere safer and lock himself down, sit out the storm, but that’s not going to happen. He has no option. For now, it’s out of his hands. He has responsibilities.
He readies himself to face hell again. He’d already seen more than his fair share of trouble before the end of everything – the sick, the injured, the dying and the desperate – but never anything on this scale. He’s doing all he can, but he’s known since that first morning it was never going to be enough.
There’s no sign the infection is contagious, and that’s something of a comfort. It means he
