I’m not brave, but sitting in a bathroom and waiting for a zombie apocalypse (gahhh, I hope no one takes that the wrong way – there’s no way we’re all going to die) isn’t something I planned on doing.
When it was quiet enough, I crept out of the restroom.
I should’ve died.
Or, died and come back.
It jumped at me; like it knew I was coming out – more than likely it was just lucky.
But there were three shots. Two hit the abdomen and one hit the head.
The body landed on me. The blood, too.
I pushed it off. It.. Gah, I don’t know. I had infected (contaminated? evil?) blood all over me.
I looked for the source of the shots – one haz-mat soldier had stuck out his neck for me… And said neck was about to be ripped to shreds by the hordes that were attracted to the sound.
The “soldier” was standing out of a partial door way. We made eye contact – or I think so, those face masks are opaque. He (or she) nodded, just a little… And ran. Ran far away from me and the door, but left it open.
The movement wasn’t professional, and neither were the few gun shots the person managed to pull off. I realized why we were so easily overtaken – these weren’t soldiers – they were scientists.
I thanked my luck and entered the room. I removed my blood-soaked clothes and put on one of the remaining haz-mat suits, and made my escape – I finished the lock breaking I had begun earlier and ran.
I’m just across the street, in relative safety. I managed to get onto the roof of a nearby business.
I don’t know how much more of this I can take. …I had to drop the shovel to get some speed.