Joel Miller

Joel would slowly stumble into his apartment in the Quarantine Zone, where he had settled twenty years after the outbreak of cordyceps. The apartment wasn’t the prettiest, the wallpaper dirty, and starting to peel, but what do you expect in the middle of an apocalypse?

The aged survivor was weary, grunting as he sank down on his worn couch, pouring himself a glass of whiskey, and fishing a baggie of pills out his pocket.

His softening gaze flickered to a figure in the corner.