"Fuck! Run. Run Spock! Come on! Lets Go!" Jim threw the last of the things in his bag and slung it over his shoulder. But at his side Spock had turned to stone. His face lost all its color and he was unresponsive, and worst of all, unmoving. The Vulcan boy stood in the middle of the alley way, frozen, shaking, dilated pupil's glued on the rotten masses of flesh charging at them, hungry animals ready to kill.

"Spock! Come on! We have to get away!" Panicked, shaking Jim screamed in the other boys face. Frantic he looked down the alley to their exit, then back the beings closing in on them. And for a moment a thought drifted into his 17 year old mind. I could leave him here. He's bleeding, they can smell him, they'll go after him first. I could leave him here, and it would give me time to get away as there...as there killing him. Jim looked back to the frightened boy for only a split second, memories of learning about this boys life as the Vulcan had huddled near the small fire only hours ago, learning of the boys pain, they flooded Jims mind once again. And one word followed such reflections. No.

"SPOCK!" The Vulcan's head slowly turned a fraction towards Jim's scream. And as Spock met his eyes. Jim raised his hand, and almost as hard as his father use to strike him, he slapped Vulcan boy across the face. But not in anger or malice. But in caring, kinship, and determination. He would not leave Spock behind. They were of a brotherhood, they shared the knowledge of what it felt like to be desecrated by people of ones own blood, they knew what it was to live in the reminisce of this world. They were brothers.

"Jim." Realisation lit in Spock's eyes, the world came flooding back to him. The Beings! "Now Jim! Run!"

Finally sure that Spock would be close behind Jim bolted for the opposite end of the alley, desperate for Spock's episode had only lasted less then a few seconds it was enough for the mutated things to gain an advantage. Terrified for their lived the boys ran. Each of their footsteps reverberating off the dirty walls and sounded off like gunshot rounds.

Behind them the hungry creatures sought after their prey. While they smelt of the dead they were very much alive. In the beginning, right after the attack they had been compared to the traditional stereotype of a zombie. But as more of the mutated appeared people understood, zombies were made up, fiction. The mutated, were reality. While they did indeed practice cannibalism, they were not mindless, driven only by the need to feed. They were intelligent, if not geniuses. Only hindered were they by there new chemically altered bodies.

There mouths foamed a grey substance, a result the chemicals had on there digestive track. Faces no longer resembled the Terrans, Andorians, Kilingons, And many other species they once were. Now, flesh melted into a new form, the were a new species all on there own. Body's were the most radically changed. Many had lost limbs, only to grow several new ones in its place. Some of the mutated were forced to adapt by learning to crawl with there front limbs, dragging their broken body's behind them, hardened intestines being ground into the cement by the weight of there useless abdomens. Others were fortunate, the chemicals caused them to grow long hind extremity's enabling them to tower up to nine feet in the air. There were even few who had meshed with one or more beings creating a modern day hydra.

These mutated began to jump and hurl themselves at Jim and Spock trying to grasp the boys. Jim risked to look behind them, the creatures had fallen slightly behind, due to the fact that over twenty of them were all trying to force themselves through the narrow alley at the same time.

Beside him Jim could here the distinct sound of wheezing. He shot a glance at Spock. While the Vulcans long legs were swiftly caring him to the mouth of the alley he had clearly torn out all of his stitches, blood stained his palm, cascading down his side and his leg until it left a trail behind him, driving the mutated insane with hunger.

Gritting his teeth Jim glanced at the alleyway opening. This was becoming a nightmare. They didn't seem like they were getting any closer to the exit. Every time they took a step forward they would hit a patch of frozen bile or stagnate water, causing them to fall two steps back. The wheezing in his ear only got louder.

If this keeps up we are not going to make it. Spock's gonna bleed to death before we get anywhere close. There has to be a way out. I didn't come this far to die!

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