Je regarde un moment à "Jack Olsen". C'est vrai. Il essaie de me sauter dessus, peut-être qu'il a prévu de me tuer, et qu'il veut se serrer la main maintenant? Je ne sais pas. Mais je ne veux pas le tuer. Il a quoi, 16 ans, 17 ans? S'il était même vivant avant que tout ça commence, alors il n'en a aucun souvenir. Il est probable qu'il n'était même pas vivant avant. Je regarde comme son manteau sanglant, ses mains tendues, et puis je le regarde droit dans les yeux.
"Je ne te laisserai pas pendre, gamin, si tu réponds à 3 questions. Réponds honnêtement maintenant, et je n'aurai pas à te tuer." Je plie mes bras à travers sa poitrine, et je hoche la tête vers la puanteur, la pourriture, infectée qui lit le sol--victimes de leur propre folie; le Scurge avait fermé les parties du cerveau qui font des gens qui ils sont. Au moins c'est ce que les nouvelles nous ont dit, quand il y avait encore des nouvelles. Je ne suis pas un putain de scientifique donc, qui sait.
"Première question, petit", je dis après avoir hurlé vers les cadavres sur l'interstate. "Combien d'infectés avez-vous tués? Je me branle les yeux, regardant Jack, prêt à le mettre au moindre soupçon de malhonnêteté. J'entends des pas s'approcher, mais je ne leur fais rien. S'ils étaient infectés, ils gronderaient et murmuraient, essayant de former des phrases qui ne pouvaient pas s'allier à leurs esprits brisés. Les pas devaient appartenir à un survivant, et c'est le cas, s'ils nous faisaient du mal, nous serions déjà morts. Alors je garde mon regard fermé sur Jack, attendant sa réponse.
Placeholder for MY charactersName: Navarro "Nav" Riker
Age: 32
Appearance (either description or picture):

Job (pre-plague unless character was born after): Carpenter
Biography:
At 32 years old, Navarro spent his entire life working in carpentry. Always skilled with with his hands, he loved to build. He also loved to whittle, and as a child he had a large collection of hand crafted figures. His life was a pretty ordinary one. He had his two best fiends, Christa and Vincent, and a cat.
When the virus hit, Nav was in Alexandria VA, working on an apartment complex in the tourist trap town. It didn't take long for the WHO to act, quarantining first state borders, then the individual cities, and finally the entire country. Navarro was stuck in Alexandria, unable to get to those he cared about.
In less than a year, society itself had collapsed. The virus, which the media had nicknamed the Withering Scourge, tore through humanity. Later, Society would shorten it to The Scourge or the Withering. Most who have survived this far are either immune or just plain lucky. People still take precautions if they have them. N95 masks, respiration masks, hazmat suits if they can find them. But the truth is, the disease moved too fast. It burned itself out before it could finish off humanity. Maybe there are a few places the virus resides, but mostly it is gone now.
Still some infected do exist. Some that have yet to die. They are insane, they only wish to kill or maim, to spread the disease that has infected their own brains. They are not smart, they have been overcome. Early symptoms include fever, hallucinations, and a penchant for violence. Then bleeding from the Orifices, such as the eyes, mouth, and nose. Then...death.
Navarro himself doesn't know if he was immune or just lucky. He is just trying to find his friends, to save them from the hell that awaits. He believes Humanity can conquer this, and he strives to triumph over the tiny, seemingly insignificant virus. And he is willing to sacrifice all for said belief.