The sky glared bright red from above, an unforgiving sandstorm approaching the shelter they were bunked in. This was their last stand; the four players were at the limits of their life bars, and a single wrong move would automatically mean game over.
Ruby wrapped another layer of cotton gauze bandage around the infected bite on her left thigh. None of the other players mentioned it, but she could tell that they were slowly getting worried and wary of her, because every little movement of hers was met with fierce scrutiny.
She couldn’t blame them. After all, nobody knew if the infected bite simply affected her life meter, or if it was something worse; if the Gene-Z virus would soon take over her system and turn her into a brain-eating undead. Judging from how things were going, the latter
