"I couldn't stand it anymore...the killing, the torturing...the raping.  I tried to run away after dark, but they followed me.  They don't punish desertion lightly.  I barely got away, nearly died.  I wish I had."
That night had been a blur of running, gunfire and explosions.  He could clearly recall blinking through hot, sticky blood as it poured down his face.  His breath grew more and more labored as his legs burned and turned to jelly.

When they eventually gave up the ghost it was because he managed to reach the city limits and steal away into the night.  Guess they figured that the shambling freaks of the night would have gotten to him.
Instead, he survived until morning until the caravan of merchants rolled by and got him.  It felt like a dream, they seemed so damn out of place.  Quinn spent almost three weeks drifting in and out of consciousness before finally awakening free of pain and infection.

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this.  Were it up to me, I would never have even told you."