A/N: Some reviewers expressed confusion about whose point of view this was now from. I had originally written two drafts of this story: one from Zoey's POV, and one from a third person POV. I decided that I liked the first person better, so the "I" in the story refers to Zoey. Sorry for the confusion. Enjoy!

Chapter Three

I didn't know how much time had passed when I was roused by the sound of a muffled clang. I opened my eyes, looking around in bewilderment. It was a moment before I remembered where I was, and another to remember why I was here.

Another muffled clang. I stood up and looked to the red door leading into the subway station. A zombie was banging against the door. The boys were still asleep. I calmly rolled my neck, trying to relieve the crick I had there from resting at an awkward angle, and then pulled a pistol from my holster and put a round in the zombie's head.

Bill rocketed awake from his perch on the desk, calling out "Charlie, you son of a bitch!" Louis rolled over on the floor, waving a hand as if dismissing a parent trying to wake him up for school. Meanwhile, Francis had been sitting on a stack of boxes in the corner. "Nice shot," he said.

"Thanks," I said, tucking the pistol back into the holster. "You didn't rest?"

"Nah," he said. "Somebody had to make sure the zombies didn't get in." He glanced to Bill, who was smoothing his rumpled jacket. "Morning, sunshine."

"Cram it, Francis," Bill said and pulled a packet of cigarettes from his breast pocket. He lit one and took a drag. "Louis, get your ass up, it's time to move!"

"Mmmph," said Louis. Bill reached down, seized Louis by the tie, and yanked upward. "All right, all right!" Louis shouted, scrambling to his feet.

"Glad you see it my way. Everybody got ammo?" Bill passed around a coffee can full of ammunition. Louis snagged a few clips for his Uzi, I stuffed my pockets with as many 9 millimeter magazines I could find, and Francis loaded his bandolier with shotgun shells.

"Lock and load," said Louis as we turned to the door.

We stepped out of the safe room into a destroyed storage room—maybe. It might've been an office; I didn't know because most of the room had been ravaged. A few shelves stood off to my left with some quickly-dispatched zombies milling about between them. "Another hole," Bill said. "And stairs. My favorite."

"Look," said Louis, pointing. "We can climb down the rebar."

"There's an upside to the building being ready to collapse," I said with cheerfulness I didn't really feel. Louis proceeded down the side, the rebar bending slightly under his weight.

"You're next," said Francis. "You probably way little enough that you won't bend the bars." I glanced over to see him giving me a once-over. His eyes flicked to mine and he smiled slowly. "Probably."

I chose to ignore this, instead turning and climbing down the rebar. It was almost pure darkness, the only source of light being the burning wreckage of cars that clogged the stairway down from the street. Behind me was a sea of darkness extending back under the safe room. In front of me was a semi-destroyed hallway. There were two ways to go: left, down the stairs, presumably towards the platform; and right, into a maintenance hallway laid bare thanks to the destruction of the surroundings.

Bill came next, and Francis dropped down like a cocky teenager. "Let's go," he said, flipping on his flashlight. I followed him down the maintenance hallway. "Hey," he said, pausing to bend down. He picked up a pipe bomb and handed it to me. "Just in case."

I thanked him with a smile, then pointed forward. "Dead end," I said. The maintenance tunnel had collapsed. I played my flashlight beam across the tunnel floor, throwing light into a vent. I could see slats of light beyond; it looked like a vent exit.

"I'll go first," he said, even as I started for the hole in the floor.

"No, I will."

"There could be zombies down there," Francis said.

I put my hand on my hip. "What do you think this is for?" I asked, gesturing to the pistol strapped to my hip. I dropped into the hole and kicked the vent. I could see Bill and Louis on the landing of the stairs below.

"Any supplies?" Bill called up at me, his voice echoing strangely off the tile walls.

"A grenade," I said, waving it at him.

"Put that thing away or you're going to get us all killed," Bill growled. "Where's Francis?"

"Right behind me," I said, turning as I tucked the pipe bomb into my belt. I flashed my light back up the vent; Francis wasn't there. "Francis? Francis?"

I heard him grunt, but his voice was far away. "Francis!" I yelled, throwing myself back into the vent. Bill was right behind me as I climbed back into the maintenance hallway. I could see Francis, illuminated in the light of the burning cars, suspended from a smoker's tongue by the safe room

Running for him, I barely heard Bill drop to a knee and fire his weapon in short bursts. The monster burst into a cloud of blood and smoke. Francis landed with a heavy thud just as I reached him. "Are you all right?" I demanded, pulling the tongue off his chest and tossing it aside.

"Fine," he said, massaging his ribcage. "Holy crap, that wasn't fun."

"Wipe yourself off, kid, the subway's almost here," Bill called.

"The subway's still running?" Louis asked from behind him.

"Look, kid," said Bill, pointing up with a chuckle. "Somebody wrote gullible on the ceiling."

I helped Francis up and all four of us walked down the stairway together. I followed Bill, jumping the turnstile and we mounted the stairs towards the platform. I wasn't prepared for the scene that awaited me.

I couldn't imagine what had happened first, the subway crash or the infection. Subway cars were strewn across the tracks and platform, smashed like soda cans in some places, at other places apparently strong enough to destroy concrete walls.

"Holy mother," I whispered. The only thing more unnerving than the crash was the several dozen zombies milling around in and around the destruction. My voice carried, and a few turned and sniffed hungrily. I raised my pistol and fired a round, then a second, and a third. Despite my trembling hand, I was able to execute two headshots and a shot in the neck.

"Look out!" Bill shouted, raising his submachine gun as the other zombies, roused by the sound of my shots, wheeled around and stared at us. They began to rush. "Let's get moving. Run and gun, kid."

I followed Bill up the rest of the stairs and we dropped onto the tracks, firing at the infected as we picked our way across the wreckage of the subway. "This tunnel's clear," Louis said, pointing north. "You said the hospital was north of here, right?"

"Yep, this is the red line. Hustle," said Bill. "I'll hold up the rear. Get going."

We climbed over a pile of rubble, dropped back to the line, and fought our way through a couple dozen more zombies. "What do you think," I gasped, pausing to squeeze off a round as a zombie came rushing at me. "...happened down here?"

Louis fired a short burst of his Uzi as we passed through the tunnel. "Most likely, an infected attacked the driver."

Francis shook his head. "Nah, man. Did you see what happened in New York, on the news?"

I shook my head. "I didn't hear anything about the infection until a few days ago," I confessed, following Francis as we emerged from the tunnel into a devastated platform.

"People didn't want the conductors to stop the train to let more people on. They were afraid of the infection," Francis said. "Some of them rushed the driver's cabin and there was a struggle for control. A news crew on the last subway to JFK saw the whole thing."

"Train derailed and lots of people were hurt. Injuries allowed infected blood to infect more people, and in twelve hours the subway system was full of zombies," said Bill grimly. We walked past a pile of flaming wreckage.

"Look up there," Louis called, pointing into the dimly lit tunnel. We could see a car, still on the tracks, with the door busted open. As we got closer, I recognized the forms the corpses strewn in the seats and on the floor of the car.

"God," I muttered. "That smell."

"You get used to it after awhile," Francis said quietly. "Just try to ignore it."

"Easier said than done."

Francis climbed the four feet into the car, then turned to help Louis up. Louis and Francis each took a hand and hauled me into the car, and then helped Bill up. "Thanks," he said, grunting lightly as he rubbed his shoulder. "The ol' body isn't what it used to be."

"I know the feeling," Louis said.

"This sardine can of corpses is giving me the creeps," I said on a shudder. "Can we, you know, go?"

"I'm with her," said Louis. "Let's move."

"Stick together," said Bill as we began moving down the car. I tried to step over the bodies, which was difficult because that required looking down at them. More than once I felt a rib snap under someone's foot.

I was the first to reach the other side, and I dropped onto the tracks, swinging my light around. It was eerily quiet, and more than a little dark. The only sound was something dripping off to right. Heavy pipes ran along the wall.

Francis dropped next as I shined my light over the left wall, exposing a door. I climbed onto the platform and tried the door handle. It opened, letting me pull it back. I heard a weird gurgling noise and brought my flashlight up, but before I could see what it was, a set of hands dragged me back.

I fell, my rear end hitting the cold pavement, my back against something soft and warm. "Boomer!" Francis whispered as a stream of foul-smelling, green goo erupted from the door.

"Look out, kid!" Bill yelled, leaping up from behind as the monstrous, bloated zombie pushed through the door. Louis raised his weapon but Bill shouted, "No!" and gave the boomer a vicious kick to the backside. It stumbled away, dropping off the edge of the platform and rolling down the tracks a way. Bill raised his gun and shot it, sending a shower of blood and slime into the air, just missing the four of us.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded, shivering in disgust.

Francis gave me a little push, and I murmured an apology as I stood up. "I forgot, you're new at this. That, girlie, was a boomer. Easily killed, but deadly. You see that green slime?" He pointed at the trail leading from the door. "When it comes into contact with human skin, it releases a scent that drives the zombies wild. They come from all over."

"And they call it a boomer because it blows up, obviously."

"Boom," said Louis as he helped Francis up. "You don't want to be covered in that stuff. I saw it happen to somebody before, and there was nothing left of him when it was all over."

Bill led the way into the hallway the boomer had attacked from. I could hear the blast of his weapon as he dispatched zombies in the hallway. I cast my flashlight over the platform one last time before I turned. Francis was waiting right outside the door. "You coming?"

"Yeah," I said. "Sorry."

Up a short flight of stairs, we emerged into a strange, columned subterranean chamber. "Where are we?" Louis demanded.

"No idea. Keep moving," said Bill.

"Look," I said, pointing over at a dim orange light opposite the large room. "A light. Do you think this place has a generator?"

"It's possible," said Francis. "But let's not draw any attention to ourselves, huh?"

We crossed the room as silently as possible, hearing the occasional groan and grunt of the undead around us. Bill stopped dead in his tracks; Louis bumped into him, but Bill didn't seem to mind. He breathed, "Sweet mama."

"You okay, Bill?" asked Louis.

Then I noticed the table off to the side piled high with guns and ammo. "Here," Bill said, thrusting the submachine gun into Louis' arms. He scooped up the assault rifle from the table. "Oh yes. Betsy's back."

"Is he going to be okay?" I muttered to Francis.

He didn't answer right away. "Here," he said finally, shoving his shotgun into my free hand. He helped himself to the auto-shotgun on the table. "Oh, this is so beautiful."

"I think they need a minute," said Louis, rolling his eyes.

"We don't have a minute," I hissed. "Come on, guys, grab some ammo and let's get moving."

"You know how to use that thing?" asked Louis, nodding at the shotgun. In response, I pumped the barrel and cradled it in my grasp. "You've fired one before?"

"Yes," I said. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "Well, okay, not so much fired one as seen it done on television."

Fully stocked, we finally entered the lit hallway and climbed up a stairway. I thought we were above ground because there was a window, but we entered a concrete room dominated by two huge electrical generators.

"Split up," said Bill. "Stick with your partner. I don't see where we go from here."

Francis and I walked right, scrambling over a hastily-built barricade, while Bill and Louis went left. Francis and I stepped into a destroyed locker room with a gaping maw in the ground, half of the floor giving way to the room we had just left below.

"What is this place?" I asked Francis. He was examining a first aid station.

"Pills here," he said, tossing me a bottle. He tucked the other two in his pockets. "Save 'em for later if you don't need 'em now."

"Thanks."

I heard a murmur of curiosity from Louis, followed by a screeching sound.

"God damn it!" shouted Bill from across the room. "What the hell are you doing?"

I moved to the doorway of the locker room as a horrifying, moaning scream pierced the air. "Oh my God," I breathed. "They're coming!"

My screamed warning was still echoing off the concrete walls as the undead horde burst through the six windows above the room, and from the stairwell we had just left. I could hear them rushing below us.

"Zoey," said Francis. "Get back."

I turned too slow; suddenly a smoker's tongue was around me and I was dragged off my feet. I fell on my rear end, and my jeans scraped along the concrete floor. My shoulder banged against rubble as I was dragged towards the hole in the floor.

"Help me!" I screamed, my voice shrill and horrified. The first blow of the zombie's fist against my cheek sent me reeling, and I soon I couldn't breathe for having the breath knocked out of me. I glanced over at Francis, who was surrounded by zombies.

There was one terrifying moment of weightlessness before I was dragged through the gaping maw in the floor and into claustrophobic, crushing blackness.