Scott felt the anxiety rise in his throat as he placed his foot carefully down every step. He didn't understand what was happening, but he did know he was afraid. This girl in front of him…who was she? Did he truly trust her as she led him down into the subway? She had saved his life, but that didn't mean he could trust her. Scott watched her cautiously move down the railing, breathing heavily, as if she too were too was afraid. Scott sighed heavily as he realized he had no choice but to follow her.
"We'll have to go east down the tunnel," the woman said surely, as they walked onto the platform.
Scott looked around the messy concrete room. A single fluorescent light stammered above him, the protective glass broken, leaving the rods exposed. Scott looked at the broken windows of the token booth in front of him. He shivered and looked away.
At least the subway smells the same, he thought, trying to ease the anxiety that was in the pit of his stomach.
He moved closer to the woman, who was climbing into the ticket booth to look for anything of use. It was then he noticed the darkness. He stared into the seemingly endless darkness of the subway tunnel, hoping that he really didn't have to go down there.
"We should go," the woman said staring at the steps they had descended from, "I hear them coming."
Scott had tried to ignore the sounds of moaning, from the steps, but what she had said was true--they were getting closer. Too close. Scott gulped as he watched the mysterious woman jump onto the tracks, not giving him any bit of a glance.
"We have to go down there?" Scott asked, short of breath.
"We can't waste any time," She said, walking off into the darkness. Scott held his shotgun tighter as he jumped onto the tracks. The darkness seemingly hid the woman from his view.
"Don't leave me," he whispered.
"Don't lag behind," she started, "be careful not to step on the edge of the tracks, though, they're electrified."
"Sure thing," Scott said, noticing there was no more light around them.
"Are you gonna use that thing?" the woman said, pointing to the flashlight that was securely attached to the holster around Scott's waist.
"For someone whose name I don't even know, you really are quite bossy," Scott said with nervous laughter.
"Just turn it on," the woman ordered, "and my name is Dorothy."
Dorothy took the flashlight from his hand and turned it on, lighting up the area around them. They were as good as dead down there, she knew, but this was their only escape, as long as they got out of the zoo alive. She knew that this new companion was going to be of little help, but she also knew that she was of little help as well when the group first discovered her, hiding in the exhaust fans of the restaurant she had worked in. She remembered perfectly, the chaotic way she had first been introduced to the virus. She waited on her customers, just as if it were a normal day. The old man at the corner sat by himself, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper. Little children vying for their mothers' attention, as their mothers attempted to carry on conversation. She remembered the smell of the cooking eggs, the perfume of the other waitresses. She also remembered how the door had burst open in such a manner that made her blood run cold. At first, she thought it was a drunk, coming in to harass them...but then she heard the screams. She hadn't exactly taken a good look of the intruder, but only a glimpse to see the brim of a tattered trucker hat, casting a dark shadow on his face. When the screams came, she looked, and for the first time, she was scared. All her life she had been fearless, but this time she couldn't move. His skin hung from the ropes of his muscle, and she could see bullet holes through his clothes and arms.
It's just a joke, she had thought for a split second, but then she saw it sink its teeth into the old man's shoulder. Instantly, people began to run. She remembered being knocked into the table. As they ran for the door, the table forced itself on top of her. She lay there for a second, shocked, and finally pushed the table off of her. Then she found herself face to face with the beast. He had grabbed hold of four more people after the old man, and instantly he had sought her out. It was then she noticed the blood on her arm. Dorothy backed up slowly, watching the beast inch slowly towards her, gasping and moaning as it moved up to touch her. Dorothy screamed running into the kitchen, and shutting the double doors, locking them carefully. She didn't know what was going on.
Someone will find me, they have to, she thought. Though, she was uncertain what was going on, she knew she'd be better off in the kitchen. So, it was there she stayed, waiting for the beast to leave, but it wasn't long before she heard the thumping behind her at the doors. Worse yet, she was still bleeding. Her arm wouldn't heal, and even though she found the First Aid pack near the back, the gauze could only stop it so much. Dorothy sat alone, waiting for someone to come and get her, but no one came. She had forgotten how long she was there by herself, paralyzed with fear whenever she heard the low scraping noise against the doors. It wasn't until she heard the loud multitudes of banging against them did she realize there was more than one of the beasts outside the kitchen. She started to realize what they were, and she knew her blood was what was drawing them to her whereabouts.
"Help me," she whispered as she backed up from the kitchen doors.
Things became a blur to her after that...it all happened so fast. The doors had finally given in, and slammed into the ground hard, so that for the first time Dorothy screamed. She remembered watching a group of five of the undead slowly limp towards her, each moaning their cacophonic tunes. Dorothy found herself trapped between them and the wall, her eyes filling with tears as the dead things approached her, and that's when she had snapped. Her survival instincts came into place and soon she found herself knocking the dead men to the ground with a loud thud.
She looked around her, trying to find a place of escape from the five death-stricken people that came towards her. She looked up, finally, to see the air vent. It was large enough for her to fit in, and that's what she would do. So, it was then she forced herself on top of the appliance racks, and, pushing aside the garter, she made it into the vent. Dorothy, still frightened, had laid there in shock, listening to the moaning voices of the zombies, as they reverberated inside her head. She knew she'd perish there, now. But, it was only a few days later when they had found her…
"My name is Scott, by the way," Scott said timidly as he moved closer next to her. Dorothy shook off the past, finding herself back in the dark tunnel. She looked at him, her eyes filled with confusion and distrust. She smiled weakly, and walked on.
"We have to be quiet," she said, her voice unusually soft spoken and relaxed, "they're all around us, I can sense it."