Tundra crouched beside the skeleton.
He was being careful not to disturb the brittle bones. The corpse had collapsed near the stream, half-shaded by a patch of blue-veined herbs. Judging by the posture, the man had died sitting upright, pen still in hand, notebook resting against his thigh...
There were no signs of zombification… He couldn't find any claw marks, bite marks on the bones, or any signs related to the virus at all. Just a quiet death, untouched by mutation.
Tundra then picked up the notebook.
The leather cover was cracked but intact. Inside, the pages were yellowed but still legible.
"I hope there's some huge secret here or something."
The handwriting was readable but the quality had already degraded, so he just had to get into the right shade to read them easily...
Tundra flipped through the first few entries, scanning for anything useful.
The writer had been a doctor.
Dr. Rahman Voss.
