For mutated beings they had incredible senses. Their hearing was sharp, and a few of them had excellent coordination. The next few seconds seemed to be a domino effect. The sound of Nick's gun had alerted those on the porch, and the sound of their attack alerted those in the house. Within moments, there was a horde all running towards the survivors. They sensed the life and blood running through their veins and they each wanted a piece of it.
"I thought you said this house was deserted!" Coach said, releasing Rochelle and grabbing his pistols. He did not wait for Ellis to respond; he ran towards the horde along with Nick, both showing no fear, no mercy. Even Rochelle straightened to the best of her abilities and tried to ignore the pain as she pulled out her gun as well. She stuck close to the other two men for cover, leaving Ellis behind who had not moved yet.
Ellis glanced down at the woman he was holding. Nick was right; she was probably close to dead. But there was something about her….he couldn't leave her behind. But could he possibly fight one handed? Was he strong enough to hold her and fight the horde?
There was not enough time to think. Most of the horde was attacking his three companions who went head first into it. But some of the smarter ones noticed Ellis behind and headed towards him. He decided to try.
He changed positions, placing the woman over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as they neared him. There were at least five of them, some to his right and some to his left. He grabbed the pistol that he found with the woman; it was the first gun he could reach. They were closing in on him, their hissing and growls were maddening, their sight sickening…
He pulled the trigger…nothing. No bullets.
"Damn lady, you must've done some serious fighting," he muttered to the unconscious woman. The infected did not hesitate as Ellis had done. They punched, kicked, slashed at him, causing wounds to open and blood to gush from his body. He tossed the useless pistol aside and grabbed his own. As soon as it was in his hands he fired, shooting each one in the face, knocking them backwards.
He found it slightly humorous that in only a few weeks, his guns became his best friends. With them he felt safe and in control. He was. To his slight surprise he was fighting the horde one handed, with the woman still in his arms. She was still alive; somehow he could feel her slight pulse even though his own was beating out of control. The others from the horde heard his gunshots and rushed towards him as well.
"Guys! Get to the house!" he shouted to his friends ahead, firing and killing each zombie after the other. Absorbed in the fight, they did not reply, but they continued forward to the house. Whatever was inside, they knew they could handle it.
Ellis continued on the path to the house, following, from what he could see, the backs of his friends. It was becoming difficult, fighting and holding the woman. She was getting heavy, and the horde seemed to be never ending. He had a horrible feeling that he was running out of ammo.
As if fate was against him, at that moment all he heard were useless clicks from the pistol. He threw it at a nearby infected in frustration, which knocked it aside but did not do anything to the rest. He could see the porch nearby; the others must have made it inside.
"We're almost there, honey!" he said to the woman. They were so close; he was not going to die now. He punched his way through the horde which seemed to double in size within last few seconds. He could feel them grabbing at him, clawing at him, trying to drag him down. But he refused, staying strong, not just for himself but for this woman who needed his help.
At last he made it to the porch. He ran through open door, and once inside closed it with his free hand. A simple door would not stop them though; he held it tightly as the infected kept trying to get in. He could hear their roars of frustration as Ellis held the door against them.
"About time, Ellis!" Coach said from a corner near the door. Ellis looked over; Coach and Nick were standing behind a large dresser. Getting the idea, he moved out of the way allowing them to push it in front of the door. The dresser shook from the rage of the infected on the other side of the door. But it was still sturdy; they did not follow them inside.
"Whew," Coach sighed wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "That outta hold them."
"Ellis, you're still holding that girl?" Nick asked now noticing the two of them. "You could've died!"
"Well I didn't," he replied simply, walking towards a nearby couch and laying her gently onto it.
"Is she even still alive?"
"Yeah," Ellis said indignantly; he was starting to get irritated at Nick's attitude. He knelt beside the woman and touched her cheek again. Still warm; she was fighter. Any weak person would have been dead by now.
The house was oddly quiet. The rage of the infected outside faltered as they lost interest, but that didn't ease the minds of the survivors. There were always more of them somewhere.
"I'm gonna search the house," Coach said suddenly breaking the silence. "Maybe there's some health kits around." He spoke mostly to Rochelle who was sitting against the wall holding her sides in pain. Ellis looked around and stared at her, sympathy etched in his face. She looked horrible; she was pale and weak, so much to the point that she could only manage a small nod at Coach's statement. Coach started up the stairs cautiously.
"I'll help you," Nick said, following after Coach and leaving the three of them alone in the dark living room.
The three did not speak for the next few moments. Mainly because two of the three couldn't. Eventually Ellis stood and went to Rochelle's side. He felt a little guilty for not helping her sooner.
"C'mon, let's get you sitting on something more comfortable," he said pointing to a recliner at the opposite side of the room. Rochelle nodded, and accepted Ellis's outstretched arm. He pulled her up gently and slowly helped her across the room to the chair. She gave Ellis a small smile and groaned from the pain as she leaned back. It was dusty but suitable; she looked better in a way when she settled into it. She took a long inhale and exhale and closed her eyes, relaxing.
Ellis moved to the middle of the room and began to pace. What were they going to do now? One of his closest friends was severely wounded, and the other woman was close to death. After all the mutated beings he had killed so far, he should've been used to death. But no, he wasn't now and he wasn't sure he ever would be. He did not want anyone else, Rochelle or this woman, to die.
But if there was nothing in this house that could be of use to them, where could they go? They couldn't possibly fight anymore. If they had to go back out there, the two women would surely die. Ellis was so absorbed in his thoughts he did not hear Coach return from the upstairs. He jumped at the sound of his voice.
"Found some stuff," he said. Ellis turned and saw a health kit, pills and pipe bomb in his hands. Ellis felt his heart lighten.
"You could only find one health kit?"
"Yeah," Coach responded glancing at the two women. "Looks like you gotta make a choice."
Before Ellis could respond, Nick's scream echoed through the house followed by a loud crash from the back of the house. Ellis and Coach ran in that direction without hesitation, following the screams and the constant crashes. A large charger came into view; its colossal arm was wrapped around the front of Nick's suit and slamming him repeatedly into the ground. Coach pulled out a gun and aimed…
A loud gunshot and the charger dropped dead. Nick lay on the ground breathing heavily, Ellis ran to him immediately. Coach looked up; his gun was still up and ready but he didn't shoot it. His gaze lingered on a figure just outside of the hole in the wall that the charger made. The figure reloaded his gun and stepped into the house.
"Everyone okay?" he asked in a rough voice.
"We're fine…uh, thanks," Coach said to the man. He was buff, covered in tattoos and looked just as experienced with weapons as the rest of them.
"All clear guys!" the man called facing the outside of the hole. Two other men came through the hole within seconds; an older man and a younger one, each holding rifles.
"I got a health kit if your friend needs it," the younger man said.
"Wait! There's someone who needs it more." He helped Nick to his feet, then motioned for the others to follow him to the living room. They followed suit, each walking one by one down the narrow hallway.
"Zoey!" the younger man said when the living room came into view. He rushed over the couch and kneeled beside the woman. The other two men followed him showing just as much concern.
"Where did you find her?" the older man asked.
"Is she still alive?" the younger man asked before Ellis could respond.
"Yes but barely. Hopefully your health kit can help her. I found her a little ways away from the house. How do you know her?" The men didn't respond, busy with their teammate. Ellis reluctantly backed up away from the reuniting group. Now that she was with her team, she didn't need his help anymore.
"Ellis c'mon," Coach said, once again bringing him back down to earth. "We gotta help Rochelle."
She was still in the chair; appeared to still be sleeping.
"Hurry," Coach said, grabbing the health kit from the floor. "Before she slips into unconsciousness." Ellis went to Rochelle and gently shook her. His heart was thumping; he hoped she hadn't slipped anywhere. To his relief, she opened her eyes slowly, exhaustedly. Ellis backed up once again, allowing Coach to patch up her deep wounds.
Even though the room was full of people, it was quiet save for the rustling through health kits. Everyone was so used to healing their companions talking no longer seemed necessary; they weren't doctors, but they had learned how to heal each other. They were used to not feeling one hundred percent better, but they all knew that over time their wounds would heal. Both the physical and emotional.
Ellis walked over to the three men. Their faces seemed solemn.
"Is she going to be okay?" he asked. For some reason, his heart rate increased. He had a feeling he knew what the answer was going to be.
"I'm not sure..." the older man said. Then he stood and stuck out his hand. "I'm Bill. Listen, thanks for saving her."
Ellis shook hands with the gentleman and smiled. "No problem. Name's Ellis."
"Nice to meet you Ellis. This is Louis," the man continued pointing to the younger man. "And Francis." Ellis nodded to the other two men. "And you already met Zoey." Bill said motioning to the woman. She still lay on the couch, motionless. It seemed like the health kit didn't make much of a difference.
"These are my friends, Coach, Rochelle, and Nick," Ellis introduced, pointing to each one respectively.
"Good to meet you all. Look, about Zoey…it looks like her injuries are worse than we thought, internal," Bill continued. "She needs medical attention…more supplies than these health kits provide."
"But where can we get that?" Nick asked. "There's nothing over here."
"We passed by a hospital about a day ago, no doubt there's supplies there." Francis said standing up and walking towards the others in the center of the room.
"Why didn't you guys stay there?" Rochelle asked in a horse voice. She stood up as well, but unsteadily. She appeared better; her stomach was completely wrapped up.
"The place was covered with infected. We almost didn't make it; we didn't even have time to search the place."
They all were silent for a moment, each wondering the same thing. Should they go for it?
"Let's do it." Ellis said suddenly. Six other faces looked at him. "If we stay here, were not gonna make it. Now that there's more of us, we have a better chance." A couple of the faces nodded in agreement.
"Yeah," Francis agreed. "I vote we go."
"Me too," Rochelle said, eyeing Francis with a smile.
"I'm in," Nick said.
Louis stood up and said quietly, "Well, to Mercy Hospital it is."
