Bunny stood still, staring at the impossible thing in front of her. He shuffled forward, weaving heavily, hands drifting upward as if he was feeling around in the dark. Those eyes, though, never left her. They were fixed on her, and she knew how a deer felt on a dark road when a car rounded a corner.
As she watched Carl stagger clumsily towards her, fingers clutching at the air, she felt as if there was no possible escape. A dead man was coming for her, not someone who’d been infected with a virus, as she'd thought till now, but a man who had, moments ago, been dead.
No longer living. Yet moving.
"BUNNY!" Caroline shrieked, yanking on her arm.
She snapped back into reality, falling into instinct, driven by the will to live, she pulled herself out of her daze. Carl was almost on her, those grasping fingers dangerously close, his mouth hanging open, a hellish moan rising out of it. Shoving aside her disbelief and fear, Bunny raised the shotgun, planting the barrel in his gaping maw.
"Eat this," she muttered, pulling the trigger.
A faint click was all she got.
Bunny thought for sure she was going to shit herself. It was empty. She'd assumed it’d been fully loaded, and stupidly, had never checked. Now, a dead man hungry for her flesh was a foot away, and she knew, she was rightly and truly fucked.
“Shit!” she yelped, backpedaling as far she could, bumping into Caroline as she did.
Caroline stumbled down the steps to the hallway as Bunny caught herself, Carl closing in. Her earlier experience had taught her that he’d have inhuman strength, and if he got that hand on her, it was over.
Desperate, she swung the shotgun around, holding it across herself to block him as he grasped at her. Carl closed his hands around the weapon, yanking hard, pulling her closer than she wanted to be.
Bunny found herself face-to-face with Carl, the shotgun the only thing separating them. Inches from her, his mouth snapped and gnawed at the air, desperate to reach her. Struggling, Bunny pushed him backwards, overbalanced and sent them both to the floor.
She strained her neck to keep clear of his mouth. Lying atop the animated, cold corpse, she used all her weight to pin him and scrambled to get her knees braced, trying to regain her feet. The thing that had been Carl groaned and snapped at her, his hands pinned under the shotgun, clenching in spasms.
Bunny planted a knee, levering herself up, holding Carl down as he pushed back. Panting from exertion, she shoved back, keeping him down a moment longer, knowing she just had to get her feet planted and she could make an escape. Somewhere, behind her, she knew, Caroline was either coming to save her, or abandoning her to her fate. She was really hoping it wasn't the latter.
Gaining her feet, Bunny gasped in a breath and got ready to make her move. Carl pushed back, before she fully had her balance, and sent her backwards. Her hands slid free of the shotgun as she flailed to catch herself, but it was far too late.
Bunny rolled head over heels down the stairs, coming to a stop against the far wall of the corridor, groaning. Dizzy and in pain, she shook her head, trying to clear it as everything around her spun wildly. She caught a glimpse of Caroline leaning against the wall a foot away, blood running down her face.
Pushing herself up, Bunny cried out as sharp pain seared its way through her leg. Something was either broken, or damn near she knew. Clattering drew her attention back to the stairs to see the shotgun sliding down towards her, Carl standing at the head, wavering as he attempted to pursue.
In a blink, Bunny knew what to do. Bracing herself as best she could, she planted a foot on Caroline's shoulder and shoved her aside. She screamed in pain as the other woman slid completely onto the floor, and almost joined her. Bunny looked at the shotgun again, then up at Carl as he tried to take a step.
Her ankle was just twisted, or so she hoped, as she limped over and snatched up the shotgun. Carl shifted and came down the stairs in a heap, making Bunny fall backwards, landing on her ass in the floor, shotgun barrel clenched in her hands.
She didn't get a moment to gather herself before she felt Carl's cold hands snagging her ankles. Gasping, she tried to kick free, but Carl held her firm, pulling himself towards her, mouth gaping.
With a scream, Bunny swung the shotgun up over her head and slammed it down onto his, getting a wet thud for her efforts. Carl groaned and pulled harder, mouth snapping the air as he closed in on her leg.
Again, she swung, cracking his head, over and over, until he finally stopped moving. Gasping for air, she sat there for a moment then hit him a few more times to be sure. His mouth, less than an inch from her calf, had stopped moving. He’d released his grip on her leg and lay still.
Jerking herself away, Bunny slid down the hall a few feet then collapsed, panting. Carl was dead. Again.
"God, I feel stupid," Caroline said as she dabbed a cloth against her head, wincing a little.
"Not your fault," Bunny told her, tossing her clothes over the back of a chair. "I'm just glad it isn't worse."
Caroline grimaced a little. "It's these damn boots. Once I started going down, I couldn't stop. I was scared I would break my damn ankle. Didn't even think about hitting my head till it happened."
"Like I said, I'm glad it isn't worse," Bunny said.
"Speaking of, how's your ankle?"
Bunny looked down at it, not noticing any swelling. "Think I just twisted it.
