shouting. “Break, break, break! Charley Team to all inner patrol units and outside work details, Wildfire! Implement full-containment measures!”
As soon as he made the announcement, the unarmed white-suits dropped the testing kits and ran away from the terrified hospital staff.
The armed white-suits pointed their weapons at the staff and started firing indiscriminately into the crowd, mowing them down as they swept their rifles from side-to-side.
Their screams were piercing, but for many their pain was short-lived.
Others dove out of the way while some tried running towards the doors.
The white-suits quickly took down two nurses who were just a few inches away from the door. They then focused their fire at the ones who were crawling underneath the tables and taking cover amongst the corpses on the floor.
Rebecca ducked down and crawled out of the way, narrowly escaping a barrage of gunfire. She hid behind two deceased nurses and covered her head with her arms as she tried to keep low and quiet, however she couldn’t stop herself from trembling.
“Forget it! We don’t have time! Let’s go! Regroup downstairs with the others!” one of the white-suits ordered as he ran towards the door.
The others immediately stopped firing and followed him.
The cafeteria doors burst open just as the white-suits were approaching.
Infected poured into the room and leapt onto the white-suits, taking them down with ease.
The white-suits fell, screaming, inadvertently and ineffectively firing wildly up into the ceiling and shattering fluorescent fixtures as their fingers tightened around their triggers.
Rebecca frantically crawled towards the buffet-style serving line to take cover.
Two elderly male patients started sprinting directly towards her, snarling.
Rebecca screamed, got on her feet, and bolted towards the silver kitchen door just behind the serving line. She pushed the swinging door open and ran inside.
The old men opened their mouth and spewed a black, oily infectious substance in her direction.
The substance pelted against the door as it swung shut with Rebecca already safely inside.
She scanned the dark kitchen in an attempt to find some sort of hiding place.
The kitchen had two long tables in the center. Both tables were stacked with pots and pans. A row of ranges and sinks stood on one side of the room and shelves of condiments and spices were on the opposite side. A large industrial refrigerator was positioned against the far wall next to boxes of dry goods.
Rebecca ran towards the fridge, nearly slipping on the polished floor in her frenzied pace.
Seconds later the two elderly patients barged into the room and froze. They cocked their heads to the side, listening and pacing.
One of the men bumped against the table and sent a stack of plates crashing against the floor.
Both of the patients became enraged and started flailing their arms around, knocking pots and pans off of the tables and shattering glasses.
The old men froze again…
Listening…
Waiting…
Distant gunshots erupted from the hallway.
New prey.
The two men snarled and darted out of the kitchen back into the cafeteria, leaving Rebecca alone as she wept inside the closed refrigerator.
She kept her eyes squeezed shut and her hands cupped over her mouth.
Chapter 11
It felt like hours passed.
John’s stomach was aching from hunger, his throat was raw with thirst, and his bladder was full.
He kept glancing at the door impatiently, but he hadn’t seen anybody ever since the doctor left with Rebecca.
He waited on the bed and simply stared at the television.
The local news from San Antonio was playing.
“–in store for us throughout the week with record-breaking temps and a muggy weekend ahead of us,” the weatherman said with a smile as he stepped aside and revealed the forecast for the week ahead.
The image switched to an attractive anchorwoman sitting behind the news desk.
“Thanks, Eric,” she
As soon as he made the announcement, the unarmed white-suits dropped the testing kits and ran away from the terrified hospital staff.
The armed white-suits pointed their weapons at the staff and started firing indiscriminately into the crowd, mowing them down as they swept their rifles from side-to-side.
Their screams were piercing, but for many their pain was short-lived.
Others dove out of the way while some tried running towards the doors.
The white-suits quickly took down two nurses who were just a few inches away from the door. They then focused their fire at the ones who were crawling underneath the tables and taking cover amongst the corpses on the floor.
Rebecca ducked down and crawled out of the way, narrowly escaping a barrage of gunfire. She hid behind two deceased nurses and covered her head with her arms as she tried to keep low and quiet, however she couldn’t stop herself from trembling.
“Forget it! We don’t have time! Let’s go! Regroup downstairs with the others!” one of the white-suits ordered as he ran towards the door.
The others immediately stopped firing and followed him.
The cafeteria doors burst open just as the white-suits were approaching.
Infected poured into the room and leapt onto the white-suits, taking them down with ease.
The white-suits fell, screaming, inadvertently and ineffectively firing wildly up into the ceiling and shattering fluorescent fixtures as their fingers tightened around their triggers.
Rebecca frantically crawled towards the buffet-style serving line to take cover.
Two elderly male patients started sprinting directly towards her, snarling.
Rebecca screamed, got on her feet, and bolted towards the silver kitchen door just behind the serving line. She pushed the swinging door open and ran inside.
The old men opened their mouth and spewed a black, oily infectious substance in her direction.
The substance pelted against the door as it swung shut with Rebecca already safely inside.
She scanned the dark kitchen in an attempt to find some sort of hiding place.
The kitchen had two long tables in the center. Both tables were stacked with pots and pans. A row of ranges and sinks stood on one side of the room and shelves of condiments and spices were on the opposite side. A large industrial refrigerator was positioned against the far wall next to boxes of dry goods.
Rebecca ran towards the fridge, nearly slipping on the polished floor in her frenzied pace.
Seconds later the two elderly patients barged into the room and froze. They cocked their heads to the side, listening and pacing.
One of the men bumped against the table and sent a stack of plates crashing against the floor.
Both of the patients became enraged and started flailing their arms around, knocking pots and pans off of the tables and shattering glasses.
The old men froze again…
Listening…
Waiting…
Distant gunshots erupted from the hallway.
New prey.
The two men snarled and darted out of the kitchen back into the cafeteria, leaving Rebecca alone as she wept inside the closed refrigerator.
She kept her eyes squeezed shut and her hands cupped over her mouth.
Chapter 11
It felt like hours passed.
John’s stomach was aching from hunger, his throat was raw with thirst, and his bladder was full.
He kept glancing at the door impatiently, but he hadn’t seen anybody ever since the doctor left with Rebecca.
He waited on the bed and simply stared at the television.
The local news from San Antonio was playing.
“–in store for us throughout the week with record-breaking temps and a muggy weekend ahead of us,” the weatherman said with a smile as he stepped aside and revealed the forecast for the week ahead.
The image switched to an attractive anchorwoman sitting behind the news desk.
“Thanks, Eric,” she
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