"Where were you last night?” was just another thing I have to deal with when I got back to the safe house. Everyday I run to somewhere no one has ever seen, it still has food and a warm bed. They consider me, of all people, their leader. I don’t want this job anymore. I’m stuck watching as a few more die off every day. We’ve lost most of our group, but that’s due to the chasers, not me.