ChapterTen

The tank scattered us in different directions, Bill and I breaking to the right while Francis and Louis went left. They disappeared behind the large electricity box, but the tank followed Bill and I as we scrambled up the air conditioning units onto the roof on the right. The tank lunged after us and Bill pointed to the pipes, the bottom of which were being licked by flames from the fire Bill had started earlier.

I didn't need an explanation, I just ran for the pipes, crossing the fire over them. Frustrated, the tank roared at the fire separating us from him and turned to run away from us, apparently chasing the scent of Francis and Louis. "Francis!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. "Louis! It's after you!"

"Come on, kid. There were some guns in the cabinet down below," Bill said, pointing at the hut's roof. I followed him into the stairwell, down the stairs, and then into the radio hut again. The fire was beginning to die down, and as I peered down the alleyway through the flames, I saw Francis and Louis running across the roof, the hulking tank running behind them.

"Here ya go, kid," Bill said, rousing me from my anxious observation by nudging me with the butt of an assault rifle. I took some magazines and stuffed my pockets as Bill loaded a combat shotgun. I loaded the assault rifle and Bill and I raced across out of the hut, leaping over the smouldering zombie corpses beneath our feet.

"We have to help Francis and Louis," I shouted to Bill. I heard a roar and then a bone-crunching impact. "Oh God!"

"Go for the helicopter," Bill shouted back. "At least one of us needs to get out of this mess!"

I shook my head. "No, Bill," I said. "I'm not leaving without you guys." He looked like he was going to argue, but after a moment he just shook his head and turned towards the direction of where we'd last seen the tank. I gave chase until we reached the edge of the top part of the roof. "Down there," I said, pointing down at the lower roof.

I raised my rifle and lined up the sights, then squeezed the trigger. The bullets impacted the tank's back and left shoulder, and blood erupted from the wounds. The tank turned and roared in my direction, then took a few unsteady steps towards me. I adjusted my aim, firing at his head, but missed. The bullets went wild, only one of them grazing the side of his head.

"Shit," I spat as the tank roared and began galloping towards us.

"Now we're in it, kid," said Bill with a laugh. The tank rushed at the ladder and bounded up it in two leaps as we both opened fire. The tank reached the top and didn't seem any worse for the wear. "Run!"

I didn't need telling twice. I turned and ran across the roof; the zombie fire had gone out now, and the light rain had resumed, pelting down over both Bill and I as we ran for the helipad. "Where's Francis and Louis?" I shouted at Bill over the roar of the tank, only a few feet behind us.

"We've got more important things to worry about, kid," Bill said, turning to fire three shotgun blasts into the tank's mass, to no visible result. Bill groaned, "Why won't this thing just die already?"

I raced up the ramp towards the helicopter, not knowing where else to go, with Bill just behind me and the tank just behind him. The helicopter pilot was shouting out his window for us to "hurry up!" but I couldn't see Francis or Louis anywhere.

"Francis!" I shouted as loud as I could before opening up on the tank as it rushed towards us. "Louis!"

Bill continued firing at the tank until he had to reload, during which interlude I provided the covering fire. When he had filled his shotgun with the last remaining shells and resumed firing, I turned and looked off to the side. Where were Francis and Louis? Had the tank demolished them already?

"Zoey!" Bill's shout tore my attention back to him, but I only half turned before the tank's fist caught me in the midsection and sent me tumbling through the air. I landed with a shout at the edge of the helipad, but the momentum kept me rolling. I tried to stop, to grab at something for support, but the rain-slick surface gave me no purchase, and I went sailing over the edge.

FrancisDixon

As it happens, the tank and I don't really get along. But I guess you could say that for all the zombies. Yeah, zombies. I only call 'em vampires to lighten the mood, give the group a little something to smirk about. Dumb ol' Francis, doesn't know the difference between zombies and vampires. Ha.

Anyway, the tank tried to put me through a concrete wall, but I dodged. This is unfortunate, because the tank instead smashed through the wall, making part of the ceiling collapse on Louis. By the time I pulled his ass out of the rubble-him all smiles, even though his face was pretty banged up from the crumbled concrete-I could hear gunplay above us, probably on the helipad.

"We've got to help Bill and Zoey," Louis told me. No shit, Sherlock, I thought to myself and handed him one of my handguns. "Thanks, man."

"No problem. Conserve your ammo, Louis, because I don't have any spare clips." I tucked the gun into the back of my waistband and followed Louis towards the ladder we had climbed down before while evading the tank.

By the time we reached the top of the ladder, I could see Bill and Zoey were in a pitched battle with the tank on the helipad. It seemed to me that the tank was a little slower, a little more sluggish than it was chasing me and Louis. I hoped it was almost dead.

The helicopter hovered nearby, its tail lights blinking as if to say "Come on, let's get out of here."

"We're almost there," I told Louis, clapping him on the back as we jogged towards the helipad.

"Why don't Bill and Zoey just get on the helicopter?" demanded Louis.

I had considered it already. "That tank would demolish the helicopter," I said. "And it's our only way-Jesus!" I stopped in my tracks when the tank swung its hulking arm. It caught Zoey across the midsection and flung her into the air. My heart skipped a beat when I saw her slim form sail through the air and disappear from view. "Zoey!"

I took off again, Louis hot on my heels, as the tank lunged for Bill. Bill's shotgun spat lead at the tank, slowing the hulking beast's progress. I dashed up the ramp, my concern for Zoey evaporating into a full-blown rage at what the tank had done to her. "You big! Dumb! Son of a bitch!" I shouted, leaping onto the back of the tank while Bill reloaded.

The tank twisted and roared, trying to get at me, groping for the pest that was on his back. I jammed my pistl into his skull and fired the entire magazine into his brain. Halfway through the clip, the tank let out a groan, dropped to his knees, and pitched forward onto his face, throwing me off him and onto the concrete floor.

Bill nudged the hulking mass with his foot and, apparently satisfied that the tank was dead, helped me up.

"Guys, over here," shouted Louis. We turned to see Louis at the edge of the helipad, helping Zoey off the ledge. My heart constricted and I rushed to Louis' side, helping pull Zoey back onto the helipad.

ZoeyHarris

My fingers clasped the mesh edge of the helipad, and I felt my left wrist pop as the stress of my entire body weight was halted by my grip on the edge. "Ow ow ow," I groaned, biting my bottom lip in order to stop myself from crying. The pain was unimaginable, but it was soon drowned out by adrenaline when I made the mistake of looking over my shoulder.

"Oh shit," I said. I was dangling from the side of the hospital with nothing but thirty stories of air between me and what was certain death. But when I tried to cry for help, I found myself unable to make a sound above a whisper. I kicked my feet, but couldn't find purchase on anything. I was stuck.

The sound of battle intensified and I heard more footsteps; Louis and Francis, I thought. I tried to call out again, but there was no dice. The tank gave a horrific roar after a few minutes, and I felt my grip slipping. Finally, a face appeared over me.

"Louis," I whispered.

"Guys, over here," Louis called, reaching for me. His hand gripped my right forearm, then my left elbow, and he pulled. I whimpered; hot tears spilled down my cheeks, but I was so grateful at being pulled off the ledge that I could've kissed Louis. He dragged my to my knees and rested a hand on my back, but suddenly Francis was there.

"Oh shit," he said, his dark eyes softening as he saw me safe and sound.

The helicopter pilot shouted at us, "Hurry, they're coming!" Indeed, I saw a distant horde approaching from the opposite end of the roof. Francis helped me up, noticing my wince when he took my left hand.

"What happened?" he asked loudly, over the din of the helicopter blades and engine. Louis boarded first, then reached for me. I gave him my right hand and then collapsed onto the cushioned seat just inside the helicopter. Bill leaped in and Francis pulled up the rear, pulling the door closed behind him. The vehicle was surprisingly quiet after that as it zoomed away from Mercy Hospital.

"I think I dislocated my wrist," I told Francis as he knelt in front of me. As Bill started conversing with the pilot, Francis took my hand and rotated the joint. I whimpered and made to pull my hand back.

"Sorry," he said. "I think you dislocated it, too." He took my other hand and put it on his bicep. "Squeeze if it hurts," he said and took my injured hand in both of his own. His skin was warm against mine. I squeezed his bicep. "I meant once I do this."

With a swift motion, he jammed my hand hard and I felt an excruciating pain in my wrist and hand. Along with it was a satisfying pop as I felt my wrist pop back into place. "Ow!" I gasped, squeezing Francis' bicep as hard as I could. "Oh, that's better."

"Yeah?" He rotated my wrist a few times and then leaned down to kiss my wrist lightly, his beard prickling my skin. I turned my wrist to brush my palm against his cheek.

"Thank you," I said quietly, letting my thumb brush his beard. I felt myself inextricably drawn to him, leaning down as he moved up. My lips were inches away from his when I heard Bill whisper, "Oh shit." Both Francis and I turned then, me blushing at what had almost happened, him with brow furrowed in concern.

Just then, the pilot pitched forward, vomiting blood against the windshield. He then snarled and lunged at Bill. Impulse took over, adrenaline pounding in my blood as I snatched Francis' handgun and fired a bullet into the pilot's skull. He collapsed against the controls and the helicopter pitched forward.

"Oh shit," Francis said, bracing himself against the seat as an industrial landscape rushed towards us through the helicopter windshield.

Bill groped for the controls, shoving the pilot's corpse out of the way and yanking up on the stick. "This might get rough," he shouted. I braced my hands and feet against whatever I could find and closed my eyes, waiting for the impact.