My mind keeps grabbing bits and pieces of story as I think through the day. I have managed to get some of it typed in. Don't know if it will help with the story line or not. Regardless, let me know what you think of the skills.

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Rain lashed at his face as he ran. Time was running out. His lungs ached from his exertions. How much longer could he go on. He didn't know. All he did know is he couldn't stop.

The others were counting on him. They needed what he was carrying. A vaccine that could save them all. The one thing that could bring life to the last of humanity. His veins flowed with the life blood of his entire planet.

He can't stop. If he does those affected with the disease who are beyond help will catch him. They aren't after the vaccine. It can't help them. Not any more. They seek only food. Food he carries. His very being is food for them. They seek his flesh. Muscles that move him, bones that carry him, the brain that knows he can't stop, the lungs burning in his chest, these are food for those who pursue him.

Some have given up the chase. Others have taken it up. When one falls, others come to feed on the carcass. We call those, 'raveners' so hungry they feed on the flesh of the deceased. They get no nourishment, so they decay even faster.

How much farther, two miles at least. He as already run nearly 30 miles. Non stop, no breaks, no rest, nothing to drink. As he runs, he thinks of those to whom he is running. Some are friends and relatives, far more are strangers. But he keeps running to them. They need the vaccine.

His legs scream in pain as he fights the cramps that have plagued him for the last couple of miles. He can hear the enemy in the woods behind him. He slows to a fast walk. He has done this before and it nearly killed him. But these last two miles will be the most dangerous. The infected know that there is a place where food hides. Hides behind walls.

Walls built of the ruins of houses. Rock, concrete block, brick, wood, anything to keep out the infected. The infected wait at the edges of gun shot range for someone to wander too far from the edge of town. Then they attack.

The garden and the cattle are left alone. The infected don't hunger for normal food sources. They only hunger for human flesh. The globs of quivering flesh ripped form the bodies of the unfortunate. They scream, blood curdling, terrifying screams from those caught by the infected as they are feasted upon while still alive. Mercifully, many are shot before they bleed to death or die of shock.
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There you go. Do you think it will help.

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it was pretty good

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