Day 2,700

The bandage had been soaked through for a few hours now but he couldn't bring himself to change it. What was the point when all the timescales said that if it hadn't healed by now then he'd likely turn in a matter of days, unless he died within the next ten hours or so.

An irrational, panicked part of his mind kept him from checking til the last hour as if delaying it would miraculously make it all go away and the scorching ache in his leg was all a figment of his overly tired mind. At least he was alone - nobody around for him to turn or to kill him before his time.

All he had to do was look and see if he'd need to use that last bullet he'd been saving for a rainy day. He peeled back the bandage with a hissed out exhale, praying that underneath all the pus the wound was somehow healing and knowing he was already a dead man.

Exactly half an hour later a single shot pierced the air and a body slumped to the ground, briefly still. Exactly five minutes later he got up and started to head for the front door, leaving blood and brains splattered on the wall behind.

Exactly three hours later he found his first victim.