Around the same time Gantsuke and Meenda shared a kiss beneath the stars,Limo awoke in the dark.
He reached over and flicked on the lamp beside his bed.Its warm glow filled the room, chasing away shadows and the strange sensation that had jolted him awake—a dream, where Cameron, his cat, had leapt onto his chest and curled up, purring.
His hand instinctively touched his chest.
"Damn it," he muttered, then coughed—dry, shallow, three times.
The ache in his chest wasn't from the dream. It was from something real.Something he tried not to think about.
Lung cancer.
A few weeks ago, he'd been diagnosed with non-small cell lung cancer—stage one, bordering on stage two.
His doctor had prescribed targeted medication and told him, rather cheerfully,"If all goes well, you might live to be a hundred."
That made Limo laugh back then.What kind of joke was that?
Cancer.
He'd only gone for a checkup because of Cameron.The cat had developed a strange habit of sniffing and curling up on his chest—always in the same spot.
Jessica, Molly's mother, had once told him cats had a sixth sense.She'd seen it in a documentary, how animals sometimes sense things people can't.She was the one who urged him to get checked, just to be safe.
He did it to humor her.
And boom—jackpot.
Stage-one lung cancer.
"Lucky," they said. "Caught it early."
But sometimes God doesn't hand you just one problem.
The zombie outbreak began a week before his radiation therapy.
Jessica died—mauled by her youngest daughter, who had turned.And Cameron… the brilliant, strange cat who may have saved Limo's life…was the one who bit the girl.
"Shit…"
Limo picked up the white plastic pill bottle.It looked like a bottle of vitamins, but its weight told a different story.
He twisted the cap and peered inside.
There was one of those moisture-absorbing packets at the bottom, but it didn't fool him.He dumped the contents out and counted the pills.
Ten.
He chuckled, low and dry.
"Live to a hundred, huh?"
The pill was large—about the size of two 500mg tablets fused together.He bit one in half, ignoring the bitterness, and washed it down with water from the glass on his nightstand.
Half a dose would have to do.
He stared up at the ceiling, thoughts drifting.
Cameron… were you trying to tell me something?
His mind drifted to the memory of warm fur pressing into his chest, the rhythmic purr, the small weight that somehow made him feel anchored to the world.
The light clicked off.
He closed his eyes and pulled the blanket up to his chin, hugging it close to his chest.For just a moment, he let himself pretend it was the cat.Still there.Still trying to save him.