Madison
Lunging at the man before her, Madison shoved him hard into the wall and made to dart past him, but one beefy hand, caught her by the leg, sweeping it out from under her.
She hit the floor chin first and tasted blood as it pooled in her mouth. Dribbling some of it onto the floor as she tried to crawl to her knees, she was halfway up when the man grabbed her by the hair and slammed her face back into floor. She felt her tooth crack.
"Hey!" someone shouted, and then she was being pulled to her feet.
A man in blue striped boxers was struggling to keep his grip on the other, much bigger man. The man, the word Layla tattooed across his knuckles, brought his head back sharply and smashed his captor in the face.
The smaller man swore and let go.
Madison prepared to run, but the man with the tattoo just stood there breathing heavily.
"Were you trying to kill her?" a soft voice asked from behind her.
A woman came around to the front of Madison. Slim and pretty, her perfect oval face showed concern as she bent to examine Madison's split lip.
"She jumped me!" the man exclaimed.
The woman snorted. "Well, you did a number on her, that's for sure. I'm Naomi. That's John." She indicated the man who stood, blood seeping between the fingers he held cupped to his face.
"Hey," he mumbled.
"Madison," Madison said.
The three of them eyed the tattoed man, who eyed each of them warily in return.
He sighed. "Sam."
He opened his mouth to say more, but a loud crackling cut him off.
All four of them turned to stare at the wall mounted speaker as it came to life, the scratchy tune of an old waltz filling the halls.
Naomi
"John," Naomi whispered.
John lowered his hands from his face and turned to look at her.
"I think," he said, "we should go. Now."
The four of them hurried down the hall, no longer worried about the amount of noise they made. Reaching a flight of stairs, they flew down, taking steps two at a time.
"Which way is the exit?" Madison asked, her voice garbled from the damage to her mouth.
A scream cut through the air.
Naomi froze.
"What was that?" she demanded shrilly. "Where did it come from?"
John grabbed her by the arm.
"Upstairs, I think," he said. "Come on, keep moving."
"Through there!" Sam shouted, pointing towards a set of double doors.
Shoulders set, the four of them crashed through the doors and skidded to a stop.
Sam gagged. "What's that smell?"
"Dead people," John said.
John
John could hear Madison retching behind him.
In the dimness of the room, they could just make out the mounds piled along the walls. The scent of old blood and decay permeated the air.
The sound of footsteps came from the other side of the doors they had just come through.
"Fuck," John said, "help me barricade this!"
"Here, use this," Naomi said, passing John an old mop handle.
John jammed it through the handles.
"That won't hold," Sam said. "We've got to get out of here."
"I'm not going through that!" Madison wailed, pointing to the shadowy shapes along the wall.
"You want to stay here?" John asked.
Something hit the door from the outside.
Madison yelped and took off running, Sam and John right behind her, with Naomi bringing up the rear.
The stench got worse as they neared the far end of the room.
Reaching the far door, Sam threw his weight into it, but it didn't budge.
"Wait here," John said, "I'll see if I can find a battering ram."
He slipped off through the shadows. Naomi followed him.
"Go back," he whispered. "Wait with the others."
"Let me help," she said.
"Okay, but stay behind me."
She nodded.
The two of them crept across the room, stepping over the extended limbs of long-dead corpses. Coming to a door in the far corner of the room, John carefully twisted the knob and eased into what must have once been an office, Naomi right behind him. A small window in the wall near the ceiling let in a patch of moonlight. Enough to illuminate the features of a body tumbled into the corner of the room. It was Naomi.
"What the f--"
He never finished.
Naomi
Naomi slid the knife out from below his ear and wiped it casually on the hem of his boxers. She stood and stretched, then allowed herself to shift forms. Smiling to himself, John hummed a bit of the Waltz tune before tucking the knife back into his undergarments.
One down.
Round Four - Green Belt
Comenzar desde el principio
