Then three more figures staggered into view—the attackers, she guessed. The blood covering them was not the same bright red. This was dark, almost black, and thick. It soaked their clothes, their hands, their faces. One of them was mostly naked—a hospital gown trailing off one arm—giving a view of a very large stomach wound with something sticking out.
Hoses? Nicole squinted. No ... those are intestines. She swallowed, unable to take her eyes off what she was seeing.
More screaming and crashing followed as they passed.
Two new attackers came into view. They halted at the open doorway; thick blood dripping from their hands and mouths. One of them turned and faced the door opposite. Faced Nicole. Through the blood that almost masked its face entirely, Nicole recognized the person it had once been.
Aunt Carol.
A painful lump grew in Nicole’s throat and another in her gut. She would have retched, but before she could, the two escaped into the hall, heading straight for her. More followed from the room of unseen horrors. They were headed right for her—Aunt Carol now led an assault against her niece and nephew, and the whole building full of people behind them. Nicole was unable to move. Her eyes locked on those of her aunt.
The connection was broken when the soldier returned with a massive, echoing gun shot.
Gasping for air, eyes filled with tears, Nicole fell away from the door.
“What did you see? What’s happening?” David asked her after a few seconds of watching her cry, his voice the quietest he had ever made it.
“We have to go,” she managed to let out between sobs.
“What’s happening in there? I need to—”
Two shots rang out. Then, more screams, more crashes.
“David ...” Nicole started, her eyes now raised back to the window.
“Okay ...” her brother responded, now standing, his eyes also stuck on the door.
“Just, get ...”
She never finished her thought. At that moment, the bloody face of one of the attackers slammed into the window. Nicole and David screamed and bolted back to the Colby end of the tunnel, dragging Ryan behind them. Their feet slipped and slid on the plastic floor of the hastily thrown together tunnel. Half way through, they heard another gun shot.
And more screaming.
And the door bursting open.
And feet quickly coming up behind them.
They reached the Colby door, darted through, slammed it, and ran away as fast as they could.
They emerged into a large group that had gathered to watch what had become a full-on brawl between orderly Will and the mob. Now they all stood looking at the door and the noise that grew behind it.
They could have blocked the door, or run away. But no one moved.
Nicole looked to David; he was shaking, and looked as pale as she did with her powder. She looked to her other side to see how Ryan was handling it, but he wasn’t there. She panicked briefly until she saw him sitting on the stairs leading to the sleeping areas, in the same position he had been in when she first met him, only now with no blanket to protect him. Nicole grabbed David’s arm and started toward Ryan, but her brother didn’t move. His eyes were frozen, staring at the closed door, just like everyone else. She knew it wasn’t his choice: he was paralyzed with fear.
“Come on, David!” she yelled. “Snap out of it!” She tugged at him until he slowly spun toward her, and she dragged him, stumbling, to the stairs. Something made her look back.
She would come to regret it.
As the doors flung open, four people ran through, panicked.
Nicole noticed, thankfully, that they were doctors and volunteers. They were ... normal.
“Get out of here!” one of them yelled.
People started screaming, running, trampling over other people.
Everyone yelled, cried, pushed, shoved.
Within seconds, the attackers started pouring through; horrible, twisted, evil faces painted in blood. Aunt Carol was with them. Nicole locked eyes with her once again—no, she thought Aunt Carol wasn’t connecting. Her eyes were different. They were dead, glossy eyes. Still, Nicole knew that they had seen her down the hall, had followed her, and saw her now. She could feel a scream rising in her throat when someone ran into her, knocking her onto Ryan.
He was crying.
People ran up and down the stairs around them.
She felt a hand in hers. She had forgotten that she had been holding David’s hand the whole time. He was frozen, just as she had been, beyond pale and drenched in sweat.
“David,” she said, amazed that she could get the word out. She swallowed. “Help me up!”
David looked at her. Then he simply started screaming. Tears streamed down his face.
Nicole fought back her own screams. She got to her feet and tried to pull Ryan up before he got trampled by the stampede. He slipped from her grasp and he fell into the whirlwind of panicked people. She clutched his shirt and yanked him up. Steadying herself, with David’s hand in her right, and a wad of Ryan’s shirt in her left, she did not dare look back. The sounds of fighting, bones breaking, and wet chewing told her that down was not the best choice. She struggled up the stairs as quickly as she could, dragging both boys. “Don’t look back!” she yelled at them, though she could barely hear the words herself.
David was a dead-weight as he stared into the madness behind them.
She doubled her effort—from what reserve she had no idea—when a sound like thunder blasted through the lobby. A gunshot, not ten feet away. She didn’t look back.
Before she made it to the top of the stairs she heard five more shots.
Someone yelled, “It’s not working!”
She topped the stairs into an almost-empty hallway. Where is everyone? Then she saw the stragglers ahead of her slamming doors shut behind them, barricading themselves in classrooms.
All of the doors
