A few lines in here are in French, but there's a translation each time.
Paris, France
Invasion time plus twelve days
Jamie squirmed in her bed as she woke up to the red light of day. She cracked her eyes open, and shut them quickly to avoid getting any dust in them. She rolled over and checked the time on her battered alarm clock. Three-thirty in the afternoon. With a grunt, she pushed herself up onto her feet, and dressed quickly in jeans and a tattered T-shirt. She walked over to the "door" of her "apartment" and peered outside. Nothing in sight. Jamie lived in a small room of an apartment building, on the ground floor. A corner had been torn off, which allowed entry, for the normal door was blocked with rubble. The second floor had caved in in places, not leaving much inhabitable space. She had set up a bed in one corner, and had cleared enough of the rubble in the doorway to make some sort of shelf out of it. That was where she lived. All she possessed was her mattress, a few clothes and oddments, a flashlight, and a survival knife she always carried with her. She knew it wouldn't be much use if she ever got caught by one of those…things…but you can never be too careful.
She sheathed her knife, poked her nose outside again to see if the way was clear, and hoped out of her cave, as she called it. She arrived on the sidewalk of a small street, on the outskirts of town. This was her street, her home. Today, she was going to the supermarket to see if there was anything left. She had been getting her food there for the last week, and she knew it wouldn't last forever. When that ran out, she didn't know where she'd look…and she'd rather not think of it. She walked briskly down the dusty sidewalk, keeping alert for any sign of a creature. She hadn't seen any in this street since she lived here, but she had nonetheless confectioned some sort of "curtain" she could draw down over the opening of her cave, if she ever spotted something outside that got too interested in her. In fact the curtain was a structural weakness of the second floor, which, if she prodded it right, would collapse over the opening and seal her in. It was a one-time use though, and she doubted she would be able to get out if she triggered it.
The street was full of rubble and dust. Derelict cars were still parked along the side, long overdue of their stay. A few rotting corpses lay in ditches, which brought an acrid smell to the place. Jamie turned left at the first intersection and walked for another fifty or so meters, until she reached the supermarket. The building was still more or less intact, and she was able to climb in through a shattered window. She landed on the dusty floor, and immediately pinched her nose. If she thought the smell in the street was bad, it was nothing compared to this. The whole meat section was rotten, and there were a few corpses lying around with flies happily buzzing around them. It seemed as though a group of people had tried to barricade themselves inside, since the door was caved in but not open, and all the windows were smashed. Not very smart, she thought. She jumped over the cash, and walked down a dark and musty lane, pulling out her flashlight to light up the boxes and cans that lined the shelves. A crunching sound came from a few lanes away. She swivelled and crouched, hiding the beam of her flashlight. Crunch, crunch, crunch. It sounded as if something or someone were walking on broken glass. A faint moan came from the same direction. Half relieved, Jamie stood up again and showed her flashlight in that direction. A man stumbled clumsily down the hall, stared at her light stupidly for a few seconds, and began stumbling towards her. Just another stupid zombie, she thought, not worth getting worried about. She just had to be careful it didn't follow her home. She hastily picked up a few rations, careful to give the meat section a wide berth, and tore up a few cardboard boxes at the exit, which she took with her. She clambered back out the window, checked to see that the zombie was still wandering around inside the building, and jumped out onto the street.
She jogged back towards the intersection when something caught her attention again. Someone was calling. She listened carefully, and she distinctly heard a voice yelling in English, a language which she didn't speak. Zombies don't speak…with that thought, she broke into a full run towards the source of the voice. It was coming a block away from her…whoever it was, was on her street. She ran around the corner, and saw a man wandering down the street, apparently calling for help, seeming utterly lost. She called back to him and he swivelled around, seeming quite relieved that someone had heard his call. She ran up to meet him and…there was an embarrassing moment where nobody said anything. She hadn't seen anyone in a week and hadn't expected she ever would again. The man seemed equally bewildered, and finally decided to speak.
"My name is Kurt, I…was lost you see, I, err…it's a bit hard to explain, would you mind…"
He noticed that she didn't understand a word he was saying.
"Do you speak English, ma'am?"
Jamie shook her head.
"Un little peu…enfin…French ?"
Kurt slapped himself. How stupid of him. Of course she spoke French; he was in Paris for Christ's sake! He tried to articulate a few words in French, asking her if she had a home and if she could possibly help him hide for a while. Jamie nodded and led him down the street to her cave, and clambered in. He somewhat hesitantly climbed inside, adapting to the gloom. She tossed him her flashlight with a smirk. She was so used to it; she didn't even notice how dark the place was anymore. Kurt sat down on the floor and began to speak again.
"I am part of a special ops squad, I…"
Jamie was looking at him blankly. He apologized and started over.
"Je fais partie d'un groupe spécial d'intervention. Nous sommes basés à Londres, et avons envoyés une expédition à Paris pour essayer de ramener des survivants. Mais mon groupe a été attaqué et je crois que je suis le seul survivant. Ma radio ne marche plus, et je ne peux plus contacter le QG à Londres…je ne sais même pas s'il sont toujours vivants...»
(I am part of a special intervention squad. We are based in London and sent an expedition to Paris to try and gather survivors. But my squad was attacked and I think I'm the only survivor. My radio doesn't work anymore, and I can't contact HQ in London…I don't even know if they're still alive…)
Kurt lowered his head. Jamie seemed quite incredulous, unable to believe her luck. Not only did she meet another normal person, but this person was a fighter too! Kurt, however, seemed to guess what she was thinking, and added:
"Je ne suis pas un grand combattant. J'ai perdu mon arme et mes munitions durant l'embuscade, et il ne me reste plus que ça avec une poignée de cartouches.»
(I am not a great fighter. I lost my weapon and my ammunition during the ambush, and all I have left is this and a handful of rounds.)
He unholstered a 9mm service pistol and toyed around with it, before putting it back in its place. Jamie introduced herself, and told him how she had come to be here. She had escaped her home when a demon had spawned in the cellar, jumping out her window and running like hell. For all she knew, the thing had whipped out her entire family. She had hidden in the alleys for a few days, feeding off garbage, spending most of her time in hiding, watching as demons destroyed the entire city, until things calmed down and she found this place. Kurt nodded and looked at his watch, which was cracked. It showed twenty past two in the morning, and he sighed. He glanced at Jamie's clock, which showed four in the afternoon. In any case, time didn't matter anymore. No one was busy, no one had any appointments, other than with death. After another awkward moment of silence, Jamie unpacked her provisions and handed Kurt a can of cold ravioli. He took it gingerly, nodding his thanks, and tossed it from hand to hand as the grabbed another one and popped it open with her survival knife.
Grabbing the cardboard remains she had brought with her, she lit a small and brief fire in the middle of the room, in which they both set their cans. A grunt from outside caught their attention. Jamie had her knife in hand in the flick of an eye, crouching in a corner, while Kurt flattened himself against a wall and extinguished their small fire…they both listened. Something large was tramping down the street, snuffling as it went. The thing growled deeply as it breathed, which told them this was no zombie. Thudding footsteps came closer and closer to their hideout, until a looming shape almost totally obscured the entrance. The thing stopped dead in its tracks, snuffling wildly around. Kurt turned to Jamie and whispered:
"Un Hell Knight. Il a du nous flairer. Il ne peut pas nous voir, mais il peut nous sentir et nous entendre. Restez silencieuse.»
(A Hell Knight. He must have caught our scent. He can't see us, but he can smell and hear us. Keep quiet.)
Jamie nodded silently and relaxed her stance slightly, keeping her gaze steadily locked on the behemoth. The creature's muscular frame was quite humanoid; it stood on two trunk-like legs, and balanced a club-like arm on each side. Its head was basically a giant mouth, having no eyes or nose to speak of. Slavering fangs glimmered and seemed to hypnotize Jamie as she watched. The thing snuffled and snarled, but didn't seem able to locate them. For what it could tell, they had just disappeared at this street corner. With a low growl of frustration, the beast retraced its steps, moving at a decent clip now that it had given up the hunt. They both relaxed slightly but stayed on guard. Those things were smart enough to bluff. Jamie sheathed her knife again, and Kurt slumped down the wall and lay there, gazing into emptiness. She had been very close to making a leaping jump to "draw the curtain", but had restrained herself, not wanting to imprison another person inside with her. Turning to face the man, she asked him to tell her more about his special ops squad, and if there was any hope they may be rescued from this hellhole. Kurt snorted, as if to say "in your dreams", and began to speak.
To be continued