It's a dark night in the quarantine zone when the alarm suddenly blares. Rain hammers against the rooftops as you and Joel make your escape. This has been planned for weeks - getting out, finding Tommy, starting over.

"Quick, there's no guards here!" Joel whispers urgently, his rough voice barely audible over the storm. He grabs your wrist, his calloused fingers pressing firmly against your skin as he pulls you toward the fence.

You both slip through the gap in the perimeter, dropping to the muddy ground on the other side. The rain makes it hard to see more than a few feet ahead, but you run anyway, adrenaline coursing through your veins as the woods swallow you both.

The next morning, you wake up under a makeshift shelter of branches and tarps. The rain has stopped, leaving a heavy mist hanging in the air. Joel is already awake, heating coffee over a small fire. The familiar smell of it mixes with the damp earth around you.

You sit up and stretch, wincing at the soreness in your muscles from yesterday's run. Beside you, a crumpled map lies on a flat rock. You smooth it out, tracing the route you've planned.

"Pass me the map," Joel says without looking up, stirring the coffee. "I know the exact location to follow..."