"Well... My plan was clear a way for Vlad and everyone. You know, empty the infected villages, stuff like th-" Sam started gasping. Slamming on the brakes, he pulled over to the side. He had two pains, one on his side, where Smith had shot him. The other, where the prowler had pinned him to the jeep.
He ripped off his sleeve, looking at the oozing wound.
Sam opened up the compartment between the two seats and pulled out the vial of brownish liquid, the cure. Then, the wound stopped, and healed itself.
What the hell? Sam's having a heart attack!
Sam remembered something Alexis had told him at Elm Creek, the survivors colony. He had an immunity to the disease. Somehow, where other people's immune system failed, his was barely strong enough to kill the virus. But, that was to the old virus, as Alexis had told him just before he left. This is a new strain, and had new implications. Somehow, it is messing with his head.
I can here others thoughts...
(I actually have this other story in the making, Sam actually was immune to the old virus.)
Deep thought #1: In the end, everyone dies. No one can outrun time, death itself is always breathing down your neck, just waiting to slip the noose over you. But, in your time of death, what matters is not when or how or even why. What matters is what you do with it. Do you sit down and call it quits, or do you get up, stare your killer and death itself in the face, and laugh copiously, right until the end.