“It can’t be…” He angled his rifle toward the trees and focused his scope. Mike held his breath, keeping the scope steady as another brief flash of light put Simon into an orange glow. “He’s like a fucking cockroach. Why won’t he just DIE?!”
Mike squeezed the trigger, sending round after round into the spot where Simon had just been. If he couldn’t shoot him, he’d bury him under a mountain of hot lead.
Roger ducked as another volley of spears and arrows zinged overhead. “Where the hell are they coming from?” He shouted to the men along the wall, “Spray and pray fellas! Let’s move ‘em back!”
He laid his carbine across the top of the adobe wall and squeezed the trigger, praying that some of his rounds hit what they were supposed to. He squeezed his eyes shut as hot brass flew around him then forced them open to see the others following suit.
With the others laying down cover fire, Roger popped his head up and shouldered his rifle. He could barely make out pale bodies running in the darkness and he tried to herd them, firing into their paths. He watched one buckle and tumble and assumed he took out the target.
He ejected his magazine and slammed another into the well. Charging the rifle, he popped his head up again then felt something punch him in the shoulder.
Hard.
He tumbled back and fell off of the short scaffolding. He landed flat on his back, the wind knocked from him. As he scrambled to get his feet back under him, the pain in his shoulder radiated out, sending his neck into spasms as fire shot down toward his fingertips.
He knew what it was before his eyes focused on the arrow shaft protruding from his vest. “I’m hit.” His voice cracked as he tried to stand. He felt his legs go out from under him again and he fell to his side. “Medic…” Roger blinked rapidly as his vision grew darker. He inhaled deeply and tried to push himself up to a sitting position.
“Dude! You’re hit!” Roger didn’t see the man approach but he felt him grip the sides of his tactical vest and lift him to his feet.
“I think I’m bleeding too much.” Roger continued to blink rapidly and take deep breaths, trying to force himself to stay conscious. “I need a medic to wrap this so I can get back in the…in the…” His head flopped to the side and his legs went out from under him.
Carol ducked behind the long workbench and tried to blow out the candle closest to her without exposing herself to the double glass doors. Kelly lay on the floor next to her, her breath coming in pants as panic set in.
“We need to snuff the lights,” Carol whispered.
Kelly shook her head. “Too late. They’re already in the hall. If the lights go out now, then they’ll know that—”
Her thoughts were cut off by a blood curdling scream in the hallway. She turned wide eyes to Carol and watched as the researcher held a finger to her mouth, shushing her. “Maybe they’ll move on,” she whispered.
The glass door vibrated in place as the infected beat against it. Kelly’s entire body began to tremble as the doors rattled in their frames and Carol scrambled across the floor, pulling open a drawer away from the intruder’s line of sight. She reached over the edge and carefully sifted through the items.
“What are you doing?” Kelly hissed.
“Weapons.” Carol pulled a scalpel from the drawer and held it tightly. “Just in case.”
Kelly shook her head as the beating increased in volume. “That door isn’t going to hold.” She glanced to the side and caught a warped reflection of herself in the stainless steel cabinet door. Her hand instinctively went up to her head and she winced at the lack of hair. She could see the pale reflection and knew what she would see if she looked at the glass door.
She looked at Carol and gave her a tight lipped smile. “See you in the funny papers.”
Carol froze as Kelly came to her feet, her face twisting into a mask of rage. “What are you…” She swallowed the words that tried to escape her mouth as Kelly launched herself over the workbench and shot towards the glass doors. For a brief moment, she feared that she was about to let the infected into the lab. Her eyes darted to the window, her mind trying to assess the damage a jump from a third floor window would do to her.
She froze when she heard Kelly scream and slam her hands against the metal frame of the glass doors. She snarled and hissed, her body swaying back and forth in unison with the infected man standing in the hallway. Carol sunk deeper into the corner and watched as Kelly put on a show, first challenging the interloper then mocking him as he screamed and hooted in the echoing hallway.
She clutched the scalpel tighter and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting to hear the unmistakable sound of the glass doors shattering, the thump of bare feet on the tile floor, and the ensuing scream that would signal her end.
“Hair and semen?” Dr. Broussard raised a brow at the master at arms. “But you can’t determine who they are from?”
“The medical officer compared the hairs to the victim and—”
“There are three distinct types of human hairs.” Broussard interrupted. “Without a DNA analysis, nothing can be determined.” He crossed his arms and stared the larger man down.
“We aren’t set up for such fancy shit here.”
“Well, isn’t this your lucky day then. It just so happens that I am an expert in DNA analysis and genetics.” He waved is arm back toward the lab. “And I just so happen to have all of
