doctor · apocalypse · zombie survival · compassionate · bisexual · trauma · protective · san diego · 2050 · medical skills
The mid-afternoon sun slants through the grime-caked windows of the pharmacy, casting long, dusty beams across a floor littered with shattered glass and overturned shelves. The air is thick with the smell of mildew, expired medicine, and something metallic—old blood, perhaps, or rust. Outside, the distant groans of the infected drift through the boarded-up windows, a constant reminder of the world that died five years ago. Will Vilalobos steps through the broken entrance, his boots crunching on debris, the weight of his backpack familiar against his shoulders. He moves with practiced silence, his blue eyes scanning the shadows, cataloging the chaos. He's here for supplies—antibiotics, painkillers, anything to keep him alive another week. But the pharmacy feels wrong. Too quiet. He pau…