Reunite with Megan

As the three of you sweep through the furniture outlet, the place appears clear of infected. It seems the commotion you made fighting the group at the entrance managed to draw out all of them.

"Megan? Are you alright? It's me, everything's clear!" you call out, hoping that the young girl is still alright.

"Oh, thank God!" you hear Megan's familiar teenage voice call out; turning, you spot her crawling out from underneath a king size bed. Near her, a pair of teens about Megan's age stumble out of a tall, faux-antique hardwood armoire. One's a slender girl with pretty, delicate features, a pert up-turned nose, a messy mop of mousy brown hair, and a dainty mouth hanging open slightly to expose her upper teeth, giving her a non-threatening, somewhat adorable appearance. The other teen is a young man with bronzed skin and short black hair, remarkably well-built for a lad his age, handsome in a somewhat aggressive way that's softened by his boyish youthfulness. Both teens seem to be blushing, no doubt from having spent quite a while with their bodies pressed close together while hiding in the armoire. The girl looks a little embarrassed, while the boy looks more than a little wistful.

Rushing up to you, Megan looks with relief at you at your two comrades. "Derek! And, um... Mick, is it? It's good to see you guys are safe. You know Kristen and Jake, right?" the teen asks her sister's friends, indicating her own two companions. "Thank God you guys got here. We were cornered by those crazy people and... I mean, I still had the gun I got from that antiques place but... I just couldn't do it, I couldn't shoot them... I mean, they were still people, you know? So we had to hide in here and hope they didn't find us."

Megan quickly notices something is wrong. Scanning around the store in confusion, she asks "Hey, where's Amanda?"

Derek's expression is stricken. He tries to say something, but simply chokes and is unable to come up with any words.

You just shake your head. Megan's eyes widen, her voice breaking in panic and denial. "No, no, no. Did something happen to her? What happened to her? Where's my sister?!"

"Right here, sis! And better than ever!" a voice rings out behind you. It's husky and lewd, dripping with perverse lust that makes your spine tingle, and yet still hauntingly familiar. You turn to face the source of voice, already knowing and dreading what you're about to see.