“Steve!” I shout.
A shot rings out almost immediately from Steve's M4, the sound deafening in the enclosed space of the foyer, and the Rabid’s head bursts open, spraying the windows around with its vile contents. The body slumps and then slides down the window slowly into the Rabids below, leaving a long dark smear along the glass. The Rabids claw at the sinking body as if it is some kind of prize, and the noise from the gunshot has sent them into an even more frantic hysterical frenzy.
At any second now, the window is going to cave in, and I’m amazed it hasn’t already. We can either wait until it does, or take the initiative now and eliminate as many of these beasts at the window while they are lined up. Hell, it’s time to take the initiative!
Taking aim at the forehead of the Rabid front and centre to me, I give the order.
“Prepare to fire!”
I pull my trigger and as soon as I do, the men in front of me pull theirs. Through my gun sight, I see the window explode, as does the head of the Rabid in my sights. Glass and Rabids cave into the foyer, falling all around with a pile of bodies in the centre close to where the window was. I carry on selecting targets and firing, concentrating on targets I can pick out trying to get up from the floor. I shoot six more, taking head shots each time. I can hear two of my colleagues are firing automatic rapid fire. Looking up, I see it’s Steve and Digger, both aiming at the pile which is still moving like some writhing knot of ghastly worms; it is difficult to differentiate between separate bodies and body parts, but at last, a head emerges from the twisted pile and I take the shot.
Suddenly, Rabids start flying in through the opening where the window used to be, landing all over the front of the foyer. Some are shot in the air, but they are coming through thick and fast and even the majority of the shot ones don’t stay down. Hitting head shots with targets moving this fast is by no means easy. One lands to the right and before I can get a shot away, it jumps again; it is so quick and gets so much height, it is fearsome. I follow it with my M4 muzzle, waiting for a good shot. But before I get one, the Rabid is suddenly filled with bullets and drops to the floor. A wet splatter hits my face. I lower my rifle, and Mick lowers his at the same time; he nods over to me. Nodding back, I raise my hand to my face, wiping it downwards. My palm has a bloody stain on it, but a dark red blood, not human-looking. A thought flashes through my mind that this blood could be contagious but there’s no time to worry about that now; there are more pressing matters.
I turn back to the opening and raise my M4. Targets are everywhere in front of the covering positions, Rabids landing and now running through into the foyer en masse. The lads are keeping them back but only just, and it’s taking a massive amount of ammo to do it. The firing is constant, and we cannot keep this up, we have got to retreat. Dan must have evacuated everyone else by now!
As I’m about to shout the order to retreat, the opening in the glass wall goes dark. For a second, I can’t make out why because of the bright sunlight behind.
A surge of Rabids flows through the opening and down the pile of dead ones at the front. I flick my M4 into auto and open up into them. There are too fucking many and it is virtually impossible to guarantee a head shot; no matter how many bullets I fire, it seems to have little effect. They head straight for the position where Steve and Ian are to my left. Both men are firing and firing into them but the wave crashes into the filing cabinets they are positioned behind. The cabinets tumble backwards, sending Steve sprawling onto his back whilst Ian staggers backwards still firing, trying in vain to keep the tide back.
Steve is swamped immediately by Rabids, their mouths wide, ready to devour him. I’m sure I hear his deathly screams from below the pile of Rabids engulfing him, eating him alive.
Ian, still firing, is hit by one which sinks into teeth his arm, and his rifle is knocked sideways sending bullets into two of the other windows. They shatter and come crashing down into the foyer. Other Rabids quickly join the feeding frenzy on Ian, jumping all over him and on top of each other, trying to get to him. One of the fuckers’ teeth are chomping down at Ian’s nose, Ian staggering backwards and falling onto the pile of Rabids. With Steve at the bottom, more Rabids pile on.
Digger and the other lad are already retreating towards me; they are coming backwards firing constantly and just about managing to hold the tide of Rabids off them. I grab a grenade off my chest, flick the pin and throw the grenade into the throng in front of me and then start firing again.
Rabids are coming at me in numbers, my mag goes, ‘Fucking Hell!’ I eject it and swiftly push in a fresh one and resume firing, as the grenade explodes. The explosion is dulled, however, by the number of Rabid bodies around it, the blast makes little difference. They are coming at me too fast and I have no time to try and push the button for the lift which is a few feet to my left. If I stop firing, they will be on top of me. I have to keep moving backwards and shooting, leaving
