Marcus put his ear against the door. He heard the growl of a vehicle die in intensity. They knew he had escaped, and were now trying to flee. He swung the door open and found that he had been brought to the lower levels of the building. The emergency lighting hadn’t died out yet so the lot was bathed in red lighting. The air was dry and haunted by ghosts of exhaust, spilled oil, and gasoline. Marcus held the revolver out in front of him as he jogged to the exit ramp. He got to the foot of the ramp when he heard the gate slam down just ahead of him.
“Great.”
He walked up to see if there were any switches to lift the gate. No switch, but a slit to see the outside. He peeked out the slit.
“Just great.”
His shoulders lowered as he saw the infected swarm around the building. Their numbers seem to grow every single day. They filled the street with the stench of decay. Marcus made a face and decided to make his way back. His camera was upstairs, so he looked for a set of stairs. He passed by the locker room where he was held and found a trail of blood leading away from it to a nearby security cubicle. He glanced inside and found that the old man was missing.
“Son of a bitch.”
He walked toward the cubicle and immediately knew what had happened. Marcus heard sounds of slurping and something tearing. He figured an infected had found its way down here and found an easy meal. He put the revolver away and pulled out the combat knife. Stepping closer, he looked into the cubicle. Blood was everywhere; on the floor, on the desk, on the upturned chair in the corner, on the paper that was strewn about, on the walls, and on the faces of three infected, who all looked with wide eyes at possibly the best meal they could ever have.
“Ah shit.”
They rose and stumbled over the remains of the old man as they made their way to Marcus. The one closest to him, a young girl who wore the clothing of a nurse, leaped first. Marcus wanted to keep quiet, to not attract anymore, so he let her collide with him. She landed on Marcus, with a combat knife through her nasal passage. He shoved the dead nurse aside and removed the knife just in time to drive it into the skull of the second infected leaper, a boy of about 17. His eyes were bloodshot but stopped moving. His piercing glare dug into Marcus, as if his eyes could eat more than the image of flesh and blood his brain registered.
Marcus stood up to meet the third. He was a big guy who wore tactical gear of a S.W.A.T. team member. He was covered from head to toe in body armor except for his left hand, where he was bitten, and the ragged opening in his mask where he chewed through the fabric to get to the flesh that defined his existence. Marcus felt sorry for the infected, and wondered if they were really only filled with furious hunger. He looked at the uniform. The S.W.A.T. member still had his sidearm, two canisters that looked like grenades, and a retractable nightstick. The man didn’t let Marcus make a decision. He was hungry. He rushed Marcus and pinned him against the wall. Marcus couldn’t lift the knife against the big man’s grip, and could barely shy back from the snapping jaws.
“Don’t… be such a… pig.” He said through clenched teeth.
He knew the man paid no attention to his suggestion. He quickly looked for a solution and remembered the canisters on the man’s uniform. With his free hand, Marcus pulled the ring on what he hoped was a flash bang grenade.
“This is not an all you can eat buffet.”
The next second was filled with bright light and deafening noise as the mercury and magnesium of the grenade blended together.
“Eat this.”
The effect gave Marcus just enough time to blindly shove his combat knife through the man’s mouth and sever his spinal cord. He felt the man fall as he lost control of everything below his neck. Marcus stood for a moment and waited for his healing to finish. His eyes were fried from the hot white light and his eardrums had exploded. When his ears healed, he heard the wet smacking of jaws and stood at ready. He stood tense as he began to see clearly again. There were no more infected. The wet smacking came from the man on the floor. He had lost control of his limbs, but his head was fully animated. His goggles had been shoved up a bit to reveal his eyes, which were locked on Marcus. His jaws were smacking violently, eager to pick his bones clean. The sound of his teeth slamming together made Marcus smirk. He approached the man. When he was close enough he crouched and watched him.
“Still ticking huh?”
Marcus carefully removed the man’s tactical gear. He took the nightstick, the sidearm and some ammunition clips. Both of the grenades had gone off in a chain reaction and left a patch of flash fried skin. The stench permeated the air, and almost made Marcus puke. It didn’t seem to bother the infected man, or draw his attention. He only focused on Marcus and continued to bite at the air. The blood from his throat wound was oozing out between his teeth, creating a pool around the head, and stretched out towards Marcus’ boots.
“Yeah, well… good luck with that.”
Marcus stood and made his way to the cubicle to see if the old man had been resurrected. He was not, but he did have a swipe card that stuck out of his blood soaked jacket. The card read, “Level 19 access, Mr. Heyrman”. Marcus took the card. That was probably where the old man had stowed his camera. He kept on eye out for anymore infected. None had come to investigate the noise from the flash bangs, so he figured the three had been stuck in the stairwell.
The stairwell door was propped open by the body of a security guard. The top of his head was gone and it looked like the infected had eaten him. Marcus wasn’t sure if he was killed by the infected or if he took his own life. The guard held his pistol so he favored the latter. After moving the body, so the door would close, Marcus looked up the stairwell to get a sense of how far level 19 was. He sighed and began to trek his way up to level 19.
On the way, he pondered about his headshot experience. The things he saw and experienced were wild and incomprehensible. He would experience his past memories in rapid succession, followed by flashing colors and a feeling of floating. One thing he remembered vividly was how he came to be.
His existence was always shrouded in mystery and he tried so hard to forget his beginning as an immortal. The “dream” was strange. He felt himself begin as a single celled organism with a conscience. He grew at a phenomenal speed into a zygote, then a fetus, and ultimately into a complete aware human form. The form was pinned and injected in every pore by beams of light. The light made him feel whole and invincible. He remembered seeing his form reach for the beams and pulling them out. The light died, but whenever his body was opened by some violent means, the light appeared again to seal the body back to perfection. He saw himself as perfect and incorruptible. The dream came to a peak when the form opened its eyes and glowing tears flowed down his cheeks.
Marcus overshot level 19 by a single step when he realized he had been daydreaming. He stepped back down and carefully opened the door. The hallway that revealed itself looked clean and well kept. He found a door and used the card he swiped from the old mans corpse. The door opened. It looked like this specific room was meant to be a panic room; an impregnable room with all essential supplies for survival. On the bed was his camera.
He picked it up and ran through the photos to make sure the old man didn’t do anything to them.
“Let’s see here… yeah. There’s one. Goody.” He seemed satisfied with the photos.
A call came through his radio.
“Marcus… the infected are decreasing in number in the streets. It looks like they’re making their way into a tall building. You don’t happen to be in there do you?”
Marcus grumbled in annoyance.
“I’m on the 19th floor, I just got my camera back, what’re my chances of a pick up on the roof?”
“Slim, but get up there anyway. If they crowd you, you can just jump to the next building over.”
“The next building? That’s over 7 floors below this one!”
“What. Are you scared you’ll die? We need those photos. Go to the roof.”
Marcus sighed once again, and began to make his way up to the 32nd floor of the tall building.
“Great.”
He walked up to see if there were any switches to lift the gate. No switch, but a slit to see the outside. He peeked out the slit.
“Just great.”
His shoulders lowered as he saw the infected swarm around the building. Their numbers seem to grow every single day. They filled the street with the stench of decay. Marcus made a face and decided to make his way back. His camera was upstairs, so he looked for a set of stairs. He passed by the locker room where he was held and found a trail of blood leading away from it to a nearby security cubicle. He glanced inside and found that the old man was missing.
“Son of a bitch.”
He walked toward the cubicle and immediately knew what had happened. Marcus heard sounds of slurping and something tearing. He figured an infected had found its way down here and found an easy meal. He put the revolver away and pulled out the combat knife. Stepping closer, he looked into the cubicle. Blood was everywhere; on the floor, on the desk, on the upturned chair in the corner, on the paper that was strewn about, on the walls, and on the faces of three infected, who all looked with wide eyes at possibly the best meal they could ever have.
“Ah shit.”
They rose and stumbled over the remains of the old man as they made their way to Marcus. The one closest to him, a young girl who wore the clothing of a nurse, leaped first. Marcus wanted to keep quiet, to not attract anymore, so he let her collide with him. She landed on Marcus, with a combat knife through her nasal passage. He shoved the dead nurse aside and removed the knife just in time to drive it into the skull of the second infected leaper, a boy of about 17. His eyes were bloodshot but stopped moving. His piercing glare dug into Marcus, as if his eyes could eat more than the image of flesh and blood his brain registered.
Marcus stood up to meet the third. He was a big guy who wore tactical gear of a S.W.A.T. team member. He was covered from head to toe in body armor except for his left hand, where he was bitten, and the ragged opening in his mask where he chewed through the fabric to get to the flesh that defined his existence. Marcus felt sorry for the infected, and wondered if they were really only filled with furious hunger. He looked at the uniform. The S.W.A.T. member still had his sidearm, two canisters that looked like grenades, and a retractable nightstick. The man didn’t let Marcus make a decision. He was hungry. He rushed Marcus and pinned him against the wall. Marcus couldn’t lift the knife against the big man’s grip, and could barely shy back from the snapping jaws.
“Don’t… be such a… pig.” He said through clenched teeth.
He knew the man paid no attention to his suggestion. He quickly looked for a solution and remembered the canisters on the man’s uniform. With his free hand, Marcus pulled the ring on what he hoped was a flash bang grenade.
“This is not an all you can eat buffet.”
The next second was filled with bright light and deafening noise as the mercury and magnesium of the grenade blended together.
“Eat this.”
The effect gave Marcus just enough time to blindly shove his combat knife through the man’s mouth and sever his spinal cord. He felt the man fall as he lost control of everything below his neck. Marcus stood for a moment and waited for his healing to finish. His eyes were fried from the hot white light and his eardrums had exploded. When his ears healed, he heard the wet smacking of jaws and stood at ready. He stood tense as he began to see clearly again. There were no more infected. The wet smacking came from the man on the floor. He had lost control of his limbs, but his head was fully animated. His goggles had been shoved up a bit to reveal his eyes, which were locked on Marcus. His jaws were smacking violently, eager to pick his bones clean. The sound of his teeth slamming together made Marcus smirk. He approached the man. When he was close enough he crouched and watched him.
“Still ticking huh?”
Marcus carefully removed the man’s tactical gear. He took the nightstick, the sidearm and some ammunition clips. Both of the grenades had gone off in a chain reaction and left a patch of flash fried skin. The stench permeated the air, and almost made Marcus puke. It didn’t seem to bother the infected man, or draw his attention. He only focused on Marcus and continued to bite at the air. The blood from his throat wound was oozing out between his teeth, creating a pool around the head, and stretched out towards Marcus’ boots.
“Yeah, well… good luck with that.”
Marcus stood and made his way to the cubicle to see if the old man had been resurrected. He was not, but he did have a swipe card that stuck out of his blood soaked jacket. The card read, “Level 19 access, Mr. Heyrman”. Marcus took the card. That was probably where the old man had stowed his camera. He kept on eye out for anymore infected. None had come to investigate the noise from the flash bangs, so he figured the three had been stuck in the stairwell.
The stairwell door was propped open by the body of a security guard. The top of his head was gone and it looked like the infected had eaten him. Marcus wasn’t sure if he was killed by the infected or if he took his own life. The guard held his pistol so he favored the latter. After moving the body, so the door would close, Marcus looked up the stairwell to get a sense of how far level 19 was. He sighed and began to trek his way up to level 19.
On the way, he pondered about his headshot experience. The things he saw and experienced were wild and incomprehensible. He would experience his past memories in rapid succession, followed by flashing colors and a feeling of floating. One thing he remembered vividly was how he came to be.
His existence was always shrouded in mystery and he tried so hard to forget his beginning as an immortal. The “dream” was strange. He felt himself begin as a single celled organism with a conscience. He grew at a phenomenal speed into a zygote, then a fetus, and ultimately into a complete aware human form. The form was pinned and injected in every pore by beams of light. The light made him feel whole and invincible. He remembered seeing his form reach for the beams and pulling them out. The light died, but whenever his body was opened by some violent means, the light appeared again to seal the body back to perfection. He saw himself as perfect and incorruptible. The dream came to a peak when the form opened its eyes and glowing tears flowed down his cheeks.
Marcus overshot level 19 by a single step when he realized he had been daydreaming. He stepped back down and carefully opened the door. The hallway that revealed itself looked clean and well kept. He found a door and used the card he swiped from the old mans corpse. The door opened. It looked like this specific room was meant to be a panic room; an impregnable room with all essential supplies for survival. On the bed was his camera.
He picked it up and ran through the photos to make sure the old man didn’t do anything to them.
“Let’s see here… yeah. There’s one. Goody.” He seemed satisfied with the photos.
A call came through his radio.
“Marcus… the infected are decreasing in number in the streets. It looks like they’re making their way into a tall building. You don’t happen to be in there do you?”
Marcus grumbled in annoyance.
“I’m on the 19th floor, I just got my camera back, what’re my chances of a pick up on the roof?”
“Slim, but get up there anyway. If they crowd you, you can just jump to the next building over.”
“The next building? That’s over 7 floors below this one!”
“What. Are you scared you’ll die? We need those photos. Go to the roof.”
Marcus sighed once again, and began to make his way up to the 32nd floor of the tall building.
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