The Infection

Chapter 7

Everyone was shocked. No one moved. Striker was still tearing up the undead military officer who had just attacked Darryl, who was now laying unmoving on the floor, gun still in hand, and a hole in his head, blood trickling from it. That was at least the 3rd person who had just died in front of John in the past 2 days. Maybe more. Who was still keeping track? Josie was crying, covering her ears, screaming. John was crying on the inside. 'Why? Why does this keep happening to me? If this keeps happening, I'm gonna get used to watching people die. Hopefully it won't be my family next time this happens.' The other military personal ran forward, shoved Darryl's body out of the room, and shut the door.

"What are you doing? You're just feeding his body to them?" John asked furiously.

"That will get them distracted so we can get out," one calm man said. He had no emotion whatsoever shown on his face. "Would you rather live and get out of here, or die worrying about a dead body?" John didn't reply. "Thought so," the man unnecessarily added. 'I'd rather feed you to those things.' John thought bitterly. The man was now looking out the window of the room, searching for a way down. John hadn't realized until now that he was on the 5th floor of the building. How could they get down without going through the door? They couldn't jump out the window. That was suicide. And plus, there was a horde of the infected crowded at the base of the building anyway. Even if they had survived a jump from the window, they would be eaten alive. What now? John thought.

As if he read his mind, one of the men said, "We've got to push through."

"What?" John yelled.

"You heard me. We're going to push through. We have too," he replied. "Get ready!" He yelled to his men. 'Nonononononono.........oh no. They can't possibly be serious......can they?' John thought. But sure enough, the men opened the door, revealing the things eating Darryl's dead body. John and his family let out a gasp, but the men didn't seem to care.

"Come on!" the leader said. "Leave or die!"

"Stay close John!" William said. John's family pushed through the horde, John speechless, Josie crying, and Ann screaming. William stayed calm and serious, determined to get out of the base alive. Striker was tearing up the creatures, and dodging the swings they threw at him. The military personal surrounded John and his family, protecting them. Then, one man got bit. Then another. Then another. By the time John's family got to the elevator, there was only John's family and the leader left. They raced into the elevator and the leader was stabbing and kicking the infected, pushing them away from the elevator until the doors closed. As the elevator started to descend, the man breathed a sigh of relief. For the first time, John noticed a tag on the man's chest said Johnson.

"Be prepared," Johnson said. "There's going to be another horde on the other side. "Here," he said as he gave William a shotgun and Ann a pistol. "And for you," he said to John, "Here." He took out a long, curved sharp knife, similar to a machete. "An upgrade to your pocketknife." And then a sheathe, a pistol, and a holster for the pistol. Johnson looked to William and Ann for permission to give it to John. They nodded, realizing John needed weapons to survive the mob. As John was strapping on the holster and sheathe, Johnson showed him how to work the pistol. John nodded. "You protect your sister. I've got your parents," Johnson told him. There was finally a beep as the elevator arrived at the bottom level. Striker let out a deep growl as the doors opened, and the nightmare began.

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Thanks for reading, and as usual, please tell me in the comments any suggestions you have, and Chapter 8 will be coming out soon!