George pinched the bridge of his nose before rubbing his eyes and finally pushing the notch in his eye socket. His headache started to subside, but only by a little. He wasn't going to test his leg out just yet, so he decided that he would rest a few minutes before even trying to talk. Cindy was still wiping her eyes when George grabbed her arm.

"I need your help." He started.

"Of course anything." Cindy said eager to help him out.

"Okay, take the…red and green plants out, and do you have any blue?" George worked the careful calculations in his mind, taking into account the quit preparations. Cindy nodded and took out the three items he asked for. "Okay, take about a handful of leaves from the green one from the red and about three or four from the blue. Uh…better make that four."

Cindy nodded, counting out each leaf. George continued, working the recipe in his mind.

"Okay, now in my jacket here, inside pocket take the kit out, it'll be a bit small, but don't worry. There's a small mortar and pestle in there. You're going to have to do the leaves one at a time, but don't worry about that. Just start by grounding the green up until you have a palm size mound."

Cindy dropped a green leaf in and ground it to a find powder; she poured that powder into a container and ground up more until she had a good enough size.

"Good, now take the single blue leaf and ground that up, then mix it with the green, then do the same with the red." George said, trying to ignore the pain. Cindy set off, carefully mixing each herb the way he told her to, she wasn't nearly as skilled as George could be, but he wouldn't be able to do anything in the pain he was in, if he didn't make this medicine, then his joints would swell to the point where he wouldn't be able to move them. The little jar that Cindy was pouring the mixture into turned an off white, showing George that it was ready.



"Alright, Cindy take one of those clear containers and fill one of the halves up all the way, not both be sure about that, okay?" George touched Cindy's shoulder, hoping she understood. She nodded, her brow drawn down in concentration. A paper funnel helped to pour all of the contents into the pill half without wasting any. After it was filled, she forced the other side into the half that was full, completing the pill. Cindy handed the completed pill to George, who swallowed it dry.

"Alright, it's going to take a few moments, but at least it won't get infected or swell up, much. I need to get to a hospital, I need to get some real anti-biotics, and I need to get some sort of ice pack to slow the swelling." George motioned for David and Mark to help him to his feet. The pain was intense, but bearable enough to move. It didn't matter if it was unbearable, he would have to move, he couldn't delay the building was on fire and he had to get out to a hospital.

Slowly, he put weight on his leg, testing to see if he could support his weight, finding he could he grinned at the small battle he just won. With the extra amount of the green leaves he had Cindy put in, it was acting as a sort of painkiller, keeping his mind from the pain aching in his leg.

George was the first to climb down the ladder before them, taking his time as he went. Thankfully, he got down without a hitch; it seemed that his leg would hold him at least through the inn. The door to his left was the only way to go from the fire escape, so George headed for it, only stopping to wait for the others to catch up. Mark was the next down the ladder, making a show of going first in the door so George wouldn't be the one surprised by anything.

Mark took out his pistol once everyone was down the ladder and waiting at the door. Quickly, Mark opened the door and turned to the left and right, with his pistol leading him both times. Down the hall, a zombie stood, staring at the floor. Mark took aim and planted a bullet through his temple. David tried the double doors to their right, but they were locked with a key card slot below the handle.

"We need some sort of key card for this door." David said, jiggling the handle for everyone to see. They nodded and continued down the hall, towards the zombie Mark had just killed. As they went through, they found a few doors, most of which were too hot to open. The two that weren't too hot were an empty storeroom and a room with a hole in the floor. Since the storeroom didn't hold anything, they proceeded into the room with the hole in the floor.

"So…should we go down?" Cindy asked, staring at the hole.

"Is there any way to cushion the fall, maybe make it a bit shorter? I don't think my leg will be able to handle that jump." George said, embarrassed that he had to make them do special things for his injury. Mark looked around.

"Yeah, look here, I can just push this crate here down to the next floor." Mark said, standing behind the crate. He put his shoulder down low against the crate and pushed as hard as he could. The crate slowly scraped its way towards the hole, moving like a snail. Mark strained, pushing as hard as he could. Suddenly, when the crate was over the hole and enough of its weight was distributed unevenly, the crate toppled down to the floor below with a loud crash.

David jumped down first, helping Cindy down, and then George. George winced as his weight went to his injured leg, bending down he softened the blow by making it last longer. Mark climbed down last, letting everyone else go before him and letting them take their time. The room they were in was on fire, but the fire seemed to be spreading slowly, the building must've been built out of fire retardant material. George pushed that thought from his mind; he had more important things to think about.

As they were leaving, something caught his eye. It was a packet of papers, that was about to be burned up. He picked it up and stared for a few moments until he realized that it was a list of passwords for rooms on this level. Feeling it would most likely come in handy; George folded it half and stuck it in his coat pocket. He followed Mark through the door and into the next room.

David stood with a beaming grin on his face as he stared at something on a bench across from the door. He picked it up and showed it to them, a twelve-gauge shotgun. Quickly, he pumped the handle, revealing a shell in the barrel, with six more behind it. It was fully loaded.

This certainly changed things; they had a chance of getting out of this God forsaken city yet. Just as David claimed his newfound prize, a noise spoiled the elation. A clicking sounded from around the corner to their left, followed closely by the sound of hissing, like someone breathing heavily. Slowly, all four backed away from the corner, feeling the door handle of a nearby door. It was cool to the touch, so they all rushed into the door.



When they ran into the room, the sight of a freely hanging corpse, hanging by its neck with a chair next to it, the legs up in the air, greeted them. In the back, a safe was built into the wall. George felt his pocket and took out the packet of paper; it was too much of a coincidence…

Propelled by the curiosity, George moved past the group and walked up to the safe. The letters on the circular button pad matched those of the combinations in the packet. Something useful might be in this safe, something that could help them escape. At random, George picked a combination and entered it. A disappointing beep signified that he entered the wrong one. Frustrated, but determined, George picked another and another trying every combination in order, hoping that at least one of the thirty-something combinations was to this safe.

Behind George, the others were looting the room, Cindy taking some more herbs to replenish the ones she used for George's medicine. David was in the bathroom with Mark, hoping to dislodge a pipe or a shower handle or something that could be used as a weapon.

George growled, not finding the right combination was taking a taxing toll on his patience. He jammed the buttons with each new code, knowing that it wouldn't help him find the right combination, but it made him feel better. Finally, the beep changed and a green light flashed on the combination lock. George stepped back, his hands in the air, he let out a satisfied, surprised cry.

Inside, the safe held only a small silver key, probably going to some doors around the inn, or someone's personal luggage. Regardless, George pocketed the key and hoped that the other safes would be easier to crack.

"What'd you find there?" Cindy asked as she stood up and brushed the dirt from the pots from her hands.

"Some key, I'm not sure what it goes to, but I think it might go to some of the doors around here." George knew he was being hopeful, but at least they had something to work with. "I think we should get out of here quickly though, I don't like the idea of whatever is out there to get the jump on us."

Cindy frowned, hoping to hear him say that they could stay a little longer, but also realizing that they didn't have much time to waste. She conceded that it was a good idea and headed to the door with the 

other two in tow. David was the first through the door, with the shotgun aimed down the hall, where the noises came from. He made his way up the hall, moving every inch begrudgingly. As they reached the corner, David slowed even further, fearing to see what was behind the corner, fearing it might be more than just a zombie. With his back flat against the wall, he peered around the corner.

Nothing.

There was nothing, not a single living creature, not even a rat. Confused, David stepped out around the corner and looked around, but still couldn't find anything. George walked up to the door at the end of the hall and found it locked, but it had a silver relief under the doorknob. George reached for his pocket, but stopped when he felt something wet hit his shoulder. He looked over and saw a sticky clear liquid running down his jacket. With his eyes closed, he calmed his nerves and tilted his head up with his eyes still closed. Inwardly groaning, George opened his eyes, his eyes going wide at the sight above him. It looked like a man who had just been skinned was crawling on the ceiling, his shoulder blades elongated, providing a sort of natural armor. The tongue was what caught George's breath in his lungs though, it stretched out about three to five feet, wrapping around the ceiling, feeling along the rafters, and prodding the air. The exposed brain pulsated as the head moved, exploring its surroundings.

A small cry escaped his throat, as George stood frozen staring at the creature above him. It stopped moving, and looked right at him. Had it just noticed him? Why couldn't it see him before? Where were its eyes? Questions flooded in his mind, trying to keep his mind sane with the sight he was seeing. He was reeling, trying to make everything work in his mind. Hands wrapped around his waist and yanked him backwards as the tongue dove into the floor below, leaving a mark in the floor like a knife.

The creature moved like a spider, crying out and moving down the wall in sharp, rapid jerky movements. How were they going to survive? The creature blocked the door, the only door that led to safety.