Chapter 11: ?
Singh ran through the steamy, tropical jungle, his pursuer not far behind. He crashed through the undergrowth, jumped over exposed roots of ancient trees and clambered over giant rocks, but they matched his every move. Suddenly, Singh tripped over something and went face first into the ground, sliding a couple of metres to a complete stop. Singh immediately gathered his senses, turned over and found himself staring down the barrel of a menacing Pistol. Singh lay there for a minute, pondering what he should do, looking between the gun and the mysterious figure, whose face was hidden in the shadows of a jet-black hood. Singh decided what to do and, without warning, used his right hand to twist away the pistol from the assailant’s hands, used his left hand to help his legs lift him off the ground and then pointed the pistol into the stranger’s hood. Singh then swore he heard the stranger chuckling, then the figure let out an evil, bone-chilling laugh.
Then Singh heard crashing and spun around. He saw that all around the forest, Infected were shambling towards him. Some were rising out from the dirt and undergrowth, some were coming over the rises in the landscape that surrounded Singh’s location, all were moaning. Singh twisted back to the figure, whose face Singh could now see. The man had a cut down the area of his left eye, giving the pupil and iris a barely visible milky-blue colour. The man had deep olive skin, a white beard and his other burned a brilliant blue. “You knew this was coming, Singh” he growled. Singh kept swinging the gun from the targets drawing ever closer. “You knew this was coming, yet you told no-one,” Singh turned to the man “now, Singh, you shall learn the true height of your folly!” The man de-materialised into nothingness, leaving Singh to his fate. Singh swung the gun from Zombie to Zombie, trying to shoot, but his fingers would not obey. At that moment Singh realised what he feeling. Terror.

At that moment, Singh felt Terror. Sheer, Pure, Terror.

Chapter 12: ?
Singh’s eyes flew open as he jolted upright. He was panting heavily and sweating profusely. With wild eyes, he scanned his surroundings. Bed, Monitor, Curtains, Railings, Vinyl Floor, Blankets, Figure, phew, Singh let out a sigh of relief not the jungle....wait a sec. His gaze turned to the figure, a man in a white surgical coat, white combat boots and a white surgical mask. He also was wielding a transparent acrylic clipboard.
“Good to see you’re up” the Doctor said in a heavy Georgian accent. He walked up to the monitor to check it. Singh gave him a withering glare, but the doctor paid Singh no heed, as he was more concerned with Singh’s readings.
Always a sign to a good Doctor.
The Doctor then flipped through some notes on his clipboard and proceeded out of the room. “When can I go?” Singh called, just as the Doctor was about to exit. The Doctor froze, one hand mid-way into moving aside one of the green curtains. “Right now. Fresh clothing is in the bag underneath your bed. You will also find a map on your phone. Proceed to the marked location.” And then the Doctor was gone before Singh could utter another word.