Izaya stared down at the bullet hole between in Yuudai's eyes, caused by his hand. The raven tried to ignore the pungent smell of too-recent rotting flesh surrounding him and focused on the soldier who had saved his life more than once. Izaya didn't feel any empathy toward the man as an individual, but he couldn't grasp his feelings toward killing a person. He would have turned. Izaya took a tentative step closer as if the man would rise even with the bullet in his head. Izaya had a feeling that his sleeping days were over. Who would be able to sleep knowing these things were out there! With a shaky breath Izaya reached down to pull the bag off from around Yuudai's shoulders.
Izaya's frown deepened as he unhooked the second strap and pulled the bag toward him. "I'll survive, you can count on that," he said before dragging the rucksack with him as he stood. Izaya said the words with determination in his eyes but had difficulty believing them. He didn't know how to survive in this type of world. It wasn't as though he could manipulate zombies as he had done with humans, now was it? This was a whole new territory, and it was dangerous and full of death. "I guess I'll have to adjust."
Shouldering the bag, Izaya pulled the straps tightly to fit his small torso, and after he was sure the bag wouldn't slip off, he headed for the stairs. The sound of his shoes matched the beat of his heart, but the closer he came to the base, he slowed his stride, and his heartbeat intensified. Taking a deep breath, Izaya took the last step off the stairway and stood in the second-floor corridor. Izaya gripped the gun tightly in his hand, knuckles pale with the adrenaline – or possibly fear – running through his veins. It didn't take a genius to realize how slim his chances were at this present moment. There were only three bullets left in his gun, he had no other form of weapons at hand, and, there was, of course, the threat of his injury. If I can avoid them until I get the hell out of here, I'll be alright. His wound wasn't his primary concern since he had plenty of supplies, his main concern was escaping this hospital with no extra wounds.
After checking the corridor was free of the undead, Izaya turned right and quietly shuffled his way down. Izaya frowned and fixed his gaze ahead of him, trying his best to ignore the bodies lying in contorted positions across the floor. Izaya passed the room he had stayed in and the two zombies outside the door and what remained of that nurse's body. Shaking his head, he continued and felt comfort in the fact that he was heading the right way. He ducked behind the wall to check the next corridor, his eyes darting from left to right a few times before stepping out. Izaya could feel his palms perspiring, and his grip tightened on the gun once more.
Reaching another staircase, Izaya realized he had yet to see what awaited him on the first floor, and that thought alone terrified him. With the third and second, he at least had some idea that he most likely wouldn't encounter any danger, and now he couldn't be sure of anything. Taking another deep breath, he descended the stairs and felt his entire body tense. He had decided to check the hospital's cafeteria, which he knew to be on the first floor. The objective wasn't the greatest of his ideas, but it would benefit him if he at least found food and water substantial enough to see him through a couple of days. Izaya hoped that this crazy idea would also gain him a weapon, preferably one he could keep using. I should have grabbed that broken table leg.
The first floor was darker, which just reinforced his anxiety, and there were more clues to indicate people's confusion. The body count had increased too, and Izaya guessed this was where the commotion began. Don't use the gun, he thought with a chew of his lip as he stepped around two bodies stripped of their flesh. Izaya closed his eyes before continuing forward, sticking close to the wall.
Izaya peered over at the signs on the contrasting wall and took a moment to commit them to memory. Behind him were hospital beds, an x-ray room, and of course, the stairs leading up to the second floor. None of these were useful to him, so he was relieved to discover he didn't have to double-back. The right turn contained the intensive care unit, the reception, and his second objective, the fucking exit. "Then that must mean-" Izaya grinned. The left turn contained his first objective, the cafeteria. Izaya stepped to the left, though his mind was screaming at him to forget about the cafeteria and leave.
A very eerie and uncomfortable silence had been a constant since leaving the third floor, so when he passed by the open door leading to an oncologist's office and heard a loud gurgling noise, his body automatically froze. Izaya's his eyes fixed on the doorway; why did encountering them cause him to freeze up? Drawing a shaky breath, he stepped closer to the door and quietly peered inside without eliciting any attention to himself. There, he could see the moving dark shadow belonging to the gurgle he heard, and it was hunched over something close to the door. Izaya lifted his hand and gently grasped the handle and hoped it was distracted enough so as not to see the door close. Swallowing dryly, he gently pulled the door toward him and thanked God it didn't creak. Izaya knew it was a risk, and he could have left it alone, but he had to come back this way and didn't want to risk facing them if he could help it. Besides, his life revolved around risks and when he saw the key inside the lock.
Izaya flinched when the door clicked shut but quickly turned the key, succeeding in trapping the damn thing within. Sighing in relief, he leaned against the wall, waiting for his hands to stop shaking and the numbness in his legs to pass.
Crash!
Izaya yelped loudly when a hand split the wood in the door and pushed through. He turned so fast to avoid it that he stumbled backward and tripped. With an ungraceful skid, he landed on the smooth floor, eyes wide as the hand thrashed around to break free. At the corner of his eye, he saw a trolley used to carry bed sheets and other supplies, and thankfully those items occupied it. Pushing to his feet, Izaya grasped the sides and gritted his teeth before shoving the trolley up against the door. Without hesitation, he ran in the direction of the cafeteria, cursing his stupidity once more. Izaya turned sharply around the next corner and lay a palm against the wall, his other holding his injury as he stopped. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, but he stepped forward when his destination came within sight. I can rest once I get out of here. Removing his hand away from his side he glanced down and gasped when he realized.
He had dropped the gun.
"Shit," he cursed and turned to retrieve it, but looked back toward the canteen. "I'm already here, so I might as well see what's left. I can pick it up on the way back." Decision made, Izaya returned to the archway and stepped into the large area. It's not like anyone will take it, and I'm quite sure those infected can't use it. His eyes scanned attentively over the many upturned tables and chairs. I hope.
The sight before him wasn't as gruesome as he imagined. There was a minimum of five corpses from what he could see, though it was hard to distinguish that for sure when three of those five were actually torn apart. Izaya swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and started to move behind the kiosk. Ugh. Make that six. There was a woman, at least he thought it might have been a woman, and she lay up against the shelves, her clothes torn, and one arm was detached from her body. Izaya averted his eyes instantly when he noticed the open wall of her abdomen. Izaya shook his head and turned to push open the door beside him, knowing it would lead him into the prepping area. There better be at least one knife in here.
Just as he lay his palm against the door to slide it open, a low groan behind him ceased his movements. Judging from the sound, it had to be furthest to the back, and without moving too quickly, Izaya shifted around on his heel to face the danger. Its movements were slower than the rest he had encountered, and it shuffled forward almost as if it was limping, and Izaya glanced down to see a chunk missing from the left knee cap. His gaze lifted back up, and he wondered if he could slip inside the room behind without alerting the zombie to his presence. I don't think it's noticed me yet. He took comfort in the fact that it probably couldn't move as fast anyway, even if it did see him.
Pressing his heel behind him, he started to push the door open and moved his palms back to shift its heavyweight. Izaya reached up and grasped the edge to stop it swinging back as he slipped inside silently, keeping his eyes fixed on the shuffling corpse. Slowly, he released the door to a close and exhaled a shuddering breath before pulling away with a shift of his body. Please don't let one be in here.
As quietly as he could, Izaya began to search the kitchen for anything that could pass as salvageable. He checked the small cupboards under the prepping areas first and then it's drawers, huffing in annoyance when nothing of value was found. He opened every cabinet along the top next and started to lose hope until he came to the last one. Izaya grinned at the sight of some good fortune for once and shuffled the rucksack off his shoulders. It must have been the staff's cupboard because the items stocked there were random: two instant ramen pots, both plain but that wasn't important, there were two energy bars, three cans of energy-based drinks and a packet of salted chips. Izaya disliked conserved food, but now was not the time to be fastidious. Could have at least left me some coffee. I'd even take instant.
Izaya shoved everything from the cupboard into his bag. They would suffice for now and hopefully last at least a few days. Good thing I don't eat a lot. Izaya shifted his attention to the rest of the kitchen once he shouldered the rucksack securely. "Now I need a weapon," he muttered while he checked the rest of the drawers on the opposite side near the stove. It would make sense for people to seize all the knives from the kitchen, so he had little hopes of finding one small yet sharp enough. "Preferably with a blade that won't snap on the first impact." Damn, he really missed his knife, and until now, he didn't realize how much he relied upon that for self-defense. The kitchen was smaller than he thought, but his physique allowed him to weave in between the small gaps to check the drawers across from the stove without the need to retrace his steps. "Damn," he muttered when nothing was found.
Izaya took a step behind to shift from the small space and back toward the door. Izaya thought for sure there would be at least one knife. "What kind of kitchen is-" There! It was hard to see what it was or how small, but he could make the outline shape of a handle. Izaya knelt beside the cupboard situated under the sink, the item in question had fallen and slid just underneath enough that no one had noticed it. He reached under to pull out the object by its handle, and a grin formed over his face. "Bingo." It was a knife! And not a bad find either. The blade was at least seven inches long and a further four inches of the handle to suffice for a good grip. Izaya tested the sharpness by lightly jabbing the tip to his finger, chuckled and stood up, pressing his finger to his lips when a dot of blood formed there. "Perfect." The find was also ironic, given that it was a boning knife, used to separate meat from the bone, although why there was one of these in a hospital cafeteria kitchen was a mystery to him.
Stepping up behind the closed swing-door, Izaya peered through the small glass window, his eyes scanning the cafeteria for any signs of the zombie he had seen. Nothing. Izaya exhaled a slow breath and pushed gently against the door and eased himself out of the kitchen, keeping his eyes fixed in front of him. There was no sign of that zombie, and he didn't know if it was good news because now he knew there was at least one of those things around somewhere nearby. Izaya tightened his grip on the new weapon he held and could feel the familiar use of the knife, even if it wasn't his switchblade. Izaya moved away from the door when he heard something that sounded an awful lot like slurping.
Ah, there was his zombie cafeteria companion, enjoying the meal served up by the cashier woman. I think I'll stick with ramen. He held back his nausea and quickly rushed over to the exit before it even had the chance to notice. The less time he was here, the better. I'll just head for the entrance, grab my gun on the way and get out of here.
He rushed down the corridor, keeping his steps as light as possible and turned into the passage that would lead him to the reception and to freedom. Izaya slowed his movements, eyes narrowing at the sight of where he shoved the trolley still there, and then his eyes fell on the gun. With a small grin, Izaya kept half of his attention on the door while he retrieved his other weapon and placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket after checking the safety. Izaya darted down the corridor, and finally, he made it to the reception.
Izaya's eyes grew wide at the bloodied chaos. Equipment and furniture scattered all around the vicinity, blood patterned the floor and over the broken glass windows across from him, and – and there were bodies – everywhere! Torn apart, mangled flesh rotting corpses. Izaya grimaced and stepped around the mess as best he could without stepping on anything. While his eyes darted around, watching, waiting, for just one of these things to rise, he noticed most of them had bullet holes in their skulls. That's right, the soldiers from before …they're probably responsible for half of this.
Just then, a clattering noise startled him into immediate alert, and he swerved on his heel toward the reception desk. For a moment, his eyes shifted to the exit only a mere ten feet away from him. Izaya's fingers curled around the handle of the knife. He should go but his legs started in the direction of the desk instead. Izaya stepped over two bodies before reaching the open feature and found the cause of the clattering. It was a woman hunched over, curled underneath the desk with her arms over her head. Izaya couldn't believe it. She was alive! She wasn't a corpse, she wasn't even an undead one as far as he could see, and the words that left his lips almost felt unnatural to him. "Are you alright?"