Part I: No Mercy
"Curing the infection... one bullet at a time."
Chapter 1: The Apartments
Lightning flashed again as the rain continued to fall over the city of Fairfield, soaking the four survivors.
"Damn it!" Zoey cursed. She pointed across the roof to the stairwell doorway. "Let's get inside before we freeze to death."
"Do you mean before or after the Infected tear us limb from limb?" Francis remarked sarcastically.
The former college student ignored him and helped Louis to his feet. Bill came over and draped Louis' other arm over his shoulder, and the group made their way across the rooftop to the door. Zoey tried to open it, but it was locked.
Francis stepped forward. "Allow me."
He pointed his shotgun at the doorknob and fired, blasting a large hole in the door in a flash of light and flying wooden splinters. He pushed the door open roughly, and the others made their way into the murky stairwell, gently lowering Louis down onto the steps.
"Ah, shit, that hurts," he groaned.
"You shouldn't have run off on your own like that," Zoey said pointedly. "That thing would have killed you."
"Hey, I managed to catch some valuable information," he replied defensively. "I heard the helicopter pilot saying over his loudspeaker for any survivors to get to Mercy Hospital. They're evacuating people from there."
"Mercy Hospital, huh?" Bill grunted. "That sounds like our best bet."
"Question is; how are we going to get there?"
However, Bill now had the time to get a good look at Louis' injuries. "You look pretty torn up, son," he said. "Let me have a look."
Zoey suddenly realised how red and bloodstained Louis' shirt was. "Oh, shit..."
Bill knelt down, grabbed Louis' red-soaked shirt and tore it open. There was blood everywhere. Zoey cupped her hands to her mouth in horror, while Francis grunted in annoyance.
"How bad is it?" Louis asked timidly.
"…I can't tell," the old veteran said, keeping his expression guarded. He turned his head to the others. "I need some water to clean the wounds to get a better look. Zoey, you stay here with him. See if you can wrap his shirt around his chest to slow the bleeding." She nodded silently. "Francis, you come with me downstairs. We need to find a bucket or something."
The man in question glared back in silence.
Bill narrowed his eyes. "Is there a problem?"
It took a moment for Francis to respond. "Nope." With that, he hefted his shotgun, turned and walked away down the stairs.
Bill sighed and stood up, turning to the others again. "Stay sharp." He turned to follow Francis downstairs.
"Bill, wait," Zoey said suddenly.
He turned back to her. "What is it?"
"Before, you said that the Infected were... changing."
He nodded slowly. "Why? What did you see?"
"The thing that attacked Louis, it wasn't like the Common Infected. I've never seen anything like it before. It was super fast. And it jumped Louis from about twenty metres away."
"The son of a bitch had claws too," Louis said, pointing down at his bloody chest.
"Hm, that is something," Bill remarked. He did not like the sound of this.
"I didn't kill it," Zoey continued worriedly. "I shot at it a few times, but it got away."
"Don't worry, kid," he said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "If it shows up again, it won't be getting away this time."
Bill and Francis moved silently down the stairs, guns held out in front, flashlights on. The building was absolutely silent, save for the occasional dripping of water overhead.
"Through here," Bill whispered over his shoulder, moving through a doorway into a hallway.
It was completely dark. The weary combatants shone their flashlights down the hallway and saw, to their satisfaction, that it was empty. Bill crept up to the nearest door and tried it to find that it was locked. He walked over to the next door to find, to his frustration, that it too was locked. He was about to move on when Francis moved forward without warning and kicked the door open.
"What the hell – " Bill cried out in shock. He turned to glare at Francis angrily. "Are you tryin' to get us both killed?"
"We needed to get inside," he replied casually. "So unless you want to play Musical Doors all night, let's go."
Bill marched right up to him. "You could have alerted any Infected nearby. So, the next time you're about to do something like that, don't."
Francis did not reply. He stared Bill down, their faces inches apart. The tension between the two hardened men appeared to be at breaking point. They broke apart when their attention was momentarily diverted by the sound of a crashing car from somewhere outside.
Bill turned to move into the apartment. "By the way, it's Musical Chairs, moron," he said over his shoulder, and then continued through the doorway.
Francis rolled his eyes and started to follow him. However, he heard the soft sound of pattering feet coming from somewhere down the hall. He quickly aimed his flashlight down the hallway, but there was nothing to be seen. However Francis could not shake the bad feeling he had in the pit of his stomach. Unbeknown to Bill, he moved off down the hall to investigate the sound. As he advanced down the hallway, he did not see the dark figure behind him creep into the apartment after Bill.