She had lost almost everyone. And now—Rain was slowly losing herself. CHOMP. Their Lt., Kaplan, was bit on the leg.
Hands. So many hands belonging to the feral, hungry horde below, were grasping onto his leg. Tearing into his flesh like a fried chicken still on the bone. His body was flailing, expression full of pain and terror. The dying former ensign leveled her handgun on one of the undead. But her vision clouded. The aim wavered. Everything was blurred and hazy. Alice stared at her. Dumbfounded.
In shock. Why wasn’t she shooting?! The taller blonde pleaded with her to shoot. “Help him!” she yelled.
Voice tired and hoarse from just an hour’s exhaustion. All of that fucking yelling. “I can’t.” Rain squinted in the darkness. “I can’t focus!” Alice persisted, trying to get the other to come back to reality. Rain squinted once more. Angry. Terrified. “I can’t SEE!” she roared. BANG. Alice took the shot. Kaplan was safe—for now.
The brunette took her index fingers, closing her eyes, and rubbed them. Tears. Sweat. Infection. Her tiny form was slowly shutting down. Piece by piece. Bit by bit. Her legs felt numb. Wobbly. Reduced to crawling along the pipes. Unfortunately, Kaplan was on the opposite side of them. The pipe had fallen earlier, which was the reason he had been attacked in the first place. “I want you to go.”
Oh, no. Goddamnit, Kap’. Not the martyr routine now. Rain felt the salt water tears build. Her round face contorted into mass depression, and shock. Soon, Kaplan was yelling. And then, Spence and Matt helped heft her out of the tiny crawl space. Her pale, pale fingers wrapped around the rusty sewer grate.
Now she was sobbing. Spence had to peel her away. Focus was in and out. Things were spiraling. They made it out. Alice was the first to lift the floor grate, popping her head out to look around. Nothing. Slowly, Matt hefted Rain’s arm around his neck. She was a weak, pitiful rag doll. “Up over my shoulder.” Matt said in a calm tone.
And then—up came her earlier breakfast. Her body was trying to fight infection. Ha. A little late. “Blaaaagh.” she upchucked all over his shiny shoes. “Oof.” Matt still held onto her, making a small grunt of concern and disgust. They probably had about two minutes left. Two minutes until she died. Two minutes until she turned.
Two minutes—until the END.
