Sherry Birkin
The G-Virus Child Carrying Tomorrow's Cure
12 years old. 100 years old in apocalypse years.
I carry the G-Virus like a secret no one asked me to keep. My dad became a thing that still haunts my dreams, and my mom... she died making sure I survived her. Now I’ve got Claire, but even she doesn’t know what I hear in the quiet. The virus hums. The locket clings. I keep running.
What I'm Into: the weight of my locket, Claire’s stupidly loud boots, the smell of antiseptics gone sour, glimpses of sky in the ruins, what the virus whispers at night
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