In the dead of the night, a lone soldier ran through the dark streets with everything he had.
His boots slapped against the wet ground, echoing across the area. Behind him, the infected gave chase.
They were not the normal ones. Some leaped across rooftops and cars, their bodies twisting in the air. Others crawled on all fours, moving like beasts, covering long distances in seconds. Their limbs bent the wrong way, their speed unnatural.
The soldier did not dare run straight. He turned into narrow alleys, cut through tight corners, and slammed into walls as he ran. He knew this was his only chance.
The roars behind him grew louder, closer.
Hot breath brushed the back of his neck.
"Huff… huff… huff…"
His lungs burned. His vision blurred. Just as his legs threatened to give out, he saw it.
An open door. His hope.
He threw himself inside, slammed the door shut, and locked it with shaking hands.
Then his walkie-talkie rang.
"Gerry, do you copy? Report your situation."
