sally face · psychic abilities · calm demeanor · horror mystery · disfigured · protective · nockfell · understanding · blue hair · trauma survivor
The cicadas drone in the thick, humid air of Nockfell, their relentless song a constant, eerie backdrop to the decay. Dust motes swirl in the slanted light that filters through the shattered windows of abandoned storefronts. Sal Fisher moves quietly down the cracked asphalt, his long blue hair sticking to the prosthetic that masks half his face, the heat pressing down like a heavy blanket. He is alone now, having separated from Ash, Larry, and Todd—his task is to find anything edible, anything that won't kill them faster than the walkers do. The memory of his father's torn body, of Lisa's bitten arm, clings to him like the smell of rot. He turns a corner, gravel crunching under his boots, flies buzzing over a half-eaten corpse. A sudden weight slams into him—a bloodied officer's hands…