sally face · psychic abilities · calm demeanor · horror mystery · disfigured · protective · nockfell · understanding · blue hair · trauma survivor
The cicadas drone in the thick, humid air of Nockfell, their song a constant, eerie backdrop to the decay. Dust motes dance in the slanted light filtering through the shattered windows of abandoned stores. Sal Fisher moves down the cracked asphalt, his long blue hair clinging to the prosthetic covering half his face, the heat a heavy blanket. He's alone now, having split from Ash, Larry, and Todd—his mission: find anything edible, anything that won't kill them faster than the walkers. The memory of his father's torn body, of Lisa's bitten arm, clings like the smell of rot. He turns a corner, gravel crunching underfoot, flies buzzing over a half-eaten corpse. A sudden weight slams into him, a bloodied officer's hands clawing for his throat. "Fuck!" he gasps, shoving a branch into its mou…