Tristan Harlow:
"Come on," I cry, trying to raise my arms but the infected keeps it down. "Come on. Come on!"
My hand is still pinned to the ground so all I can do is shoot with a shaking hand. Shooting and firing all over, I fire off another bullet. This bullet hits the infected woman in the back. It stuns her, giving me the opportunity I need. Pushing the infected off of me, I place the barrel of my pistol against the infected's forehead and shoot. Killing the infected, I get up and face the oncoming hoard.
"Damn it!"
I slam my free hand on the bottom of my pistol and start firing every bullet I have left in this pistol into the hoard. I manage to kill a bunch of infected and hurt a few more but all of it stops when I hear a clicking sound instead of gunfire.
"Empty," I think.
Despite all the infected I've killed, there are still too many to fight head-on. I throw my gun, hitting an infected in the head before turning around and running again. Running through the seemingly endless maze of tents, picking whichever direction I think is the best, I finally reach what looks like the place where I split up from Rebecca and Bailey.
"Home base," I tell myself. "Home base! Where the hell is the home base?"
Without realizing it, I had stood in one spot for too long. The infected hoard has caught up with me. They force me up against the wall. I try to reach for another pistol in my backpack but before I can grab it, an infected lunges for me.
Rebecca:
Watching through the scope on the top of the rifle, I see an infected lunging at Drifter. I pull the trigger and kill it before it can take a bite out of him. The infected's head explodes and it drops to the ground.
"Run, you son of a bitch," I yell from around a tent. "Run! I'll hold them off!"
Once again, I aim down the scope and start shooting, killing off many infected and giving Drifter an opening. Running and jumping over the bodies, Drifter makes his way toward Bailey and me. The very second he reaches us, I get off my knee and start running.
"Hurry," Bailey yells, looking behind us as what's left of the hoard is chasing us. "They're catching up!"
"Don't look behind you," Tristan yells, stopping for a second before taking a right turn, the two of us following him. "It'll only slow you down!"
"Do you know where you're leading us," I ask, shooting and killing another infected.
Despite how many infected Tristan and I killed, there are still easily two dozen right behind us.
"No," Tristan replies, taking another turn without stopping.
"What," Bailey shouts, "You don't where you're leading us?"
"This is my first time here! Wait, over there!"
Drifter's feet skidding to a stop, he points to a pair of rusted double doors that seem to lead into an empty hallway.
"This way," he cries, waving his hand. The two of us waste no time and follow him. Running past the doors, Tristan and Bailey turn around and slam them shut. The infected hoard charges right into the door, almost knocking the two back.
"Son of a--," Bailey tries to say before an infected hand breaks through the small window in the door. Screaming and stepping back, I jump and throw my own body against the doors.
As the three of us fight to keep the infected out, I look past the infected's hand, through the window, and see dozens, maybe even hundreds more infected. They're all charging down the stairs. When they reach the end of the stairs, they jump over the railing and onto the field. They then charge toward us.
Bailey:
"Oh my god," Rebecca shouts.
"What," I ask. Rebecca nudges her head toward the door's window, and when I peek through it, I see a whole tsunami of infected, flooding down the seats and pouring into the field. They only spent a second looking around before seeing and running to us.
"Oh my god," I shout too.
Before we can do anything, hundreds of infected are pounding on the doors.
"What do we do," I yell.
"We can't hold all of them back," Rebecca screams. A bump knocks Rebecca back, and the doors move. When they do, I see nothing but yellow, drooling teeth. Recovering fast, Rebecca jumps and tosses her body back onto the doors, pushing the infected back out.
"I have an idea," Drifter shouts. He starts twisting and turning his body, but when he does, he loses his footing and can't hold the doors. Another bump pushes me off the doors. It launches me off my feet and onto the ground. As I hit the ground, rotting, black arms scratch their way in between the doors. Screaming as one of the arms grabs me, I kick it off before pushing myself up. About to slam against the door, Drifter stops me.
"Wait," he shouts, turning around and holding the doors with both hands. "Search my pack! Now! There should be a belt inside!"
"A belt," I repeat.
"Just do it! Rebecca and I will do our best to keep these doors closed! Just find that belt."
Still confused, I do what Drifter said and start going through his pack. I search through every pocket, trying to find the belt Drifter wants.
"Where is it? Where is it? Where the hell is it!"
"Bailey," Drifter screams as another arm grabs him. It pulls him closer and closer to the crack between the doors.
"Hold on," Rebecca says, pulling a kitchen knife from her back pocket. Raising it above her head, Rebecca stabs the arm. We can all hear the infected shrieking from the other side before letting go. Slicing off the rest of the arms stuck in the door's crack, she and Tristan scream as they push the doors closed again.
"Any time now," Rebecca yells.
"Found it," I yell, pulling a brown leather belt from Drifter's pack.
"The door handles," Drifter screams. "Use the belt! Tie the door handles together!"
Nodding my head, I grab one end of the belt and run it through the large steel door handles before putting the bend through the buckle. Once through, I slam my foot on the doors and pull.
Screaming as the doors launch open, I almost hit my head on the door but catch myself. Twisting the belt around my hand, I place my foot back on the door and pull. Rebecca rushes to my side and grabs the belt with me. Together, we pull while Drifter keeps pushing. The doors fully shut and I can let go of the belt. Despite all the infected banging on the other side, the belt stays strong and keeps them out.
"You just keep an extra belt with you," I ask, "For emergencies like this?"
"No," Drifter answers while bent over. Catching his breaths, Drifter pushes himself up. "A belt is like a rope, and extra rope is always useful."
Pushing herself up after catching her breath, Rebecca taps Drifter on his arm.
"Smart thinking," she says.
Nodding, Drifter then nudges his head.
"Come on," he says, looking at the shaking doors. "We can't stay here."
"No shit," I say, "We need to leave, but assuming we do, where do we go next?"
"Yeah," Rebecca says. "This is the only shelter within miles. By the time we get out of here, it'll be nighttime. You said we should never travel during the night."
Stopping, Drifter looks at Rebecca.
"You said this shelter was set up by the military, right?"
"Yes."
"Well then I have an idea, but first, let's get out of here."
Eyeing all the infected, their yellow teeth scrapping against the double doors, the doors bouncing back and forth, Drifter nods before running down the hallway. Rebecca and I follow Drifter, but Drifter stops when all we see is a complete and total, pitch-black hallway.