Eventually, she was sent to rehab and got out the day the infection struck. She went back to the same mates house as it was the only place she could go. A couple of days later, oblivious to the infection, they had a party to celebrate her getting out of rehab. Everyone got drunk and/or stoned except for her and that saved her life.
They were attacked by a small group of infected, her mates were all passed out and she couldn't fight them on her own. Cutting the story short,she used them as bait so she could escape and had been wandering the streets since.
I updated her on my life: I had a decent job and had a sizeable amount of savings in the bank. Although, that meant nothing now. The world went to shit: status, money, jobs and titles all went out the window. You're one of two things now, dead or survivor. All the survivors are equal, we're all in the same boat.
Dusk was now approaching so I served up two (cold) pot noodles, nowhere near as good as a hot one but still nice enough. We ended up talking about people we knew and loved, spending the evening crying and mourning over lost friends and family. By the time we slept, we were cried out and tired.