We're Not Alone

Chapter 23

We trail for five days, going through new cities and towns and new states all together. The length of the days we have been trekking have been shorter than our normal days, but I'm exhausted.

Paisley's arm is still infected. Nirvana has grown a small bump, and Dad has been increasingly cautious.

We've seen more infected in the last week, than we've seen since we decided to leave Texas. One day we went through a school, purely because it was completely fenced off and we thought no infected would be in there at all, but once we got through to the gym, we were faced with an expander. An expander is an older ticker. Completely bloated, fat, and once stepping on most things they brake under the intense weight. They can blast spores from their body, and due to their infected skin, it's a layer of protection.

We used two molotovs to bring down the single expander, and too many bullets were used on the other infected.

We're now creeping through a waste center and, thankfully, have not been hunted by any infected. Yet.

We just went through the screening room, where the machines must have been turned off for the night because no single machine has been running.

"Through this door here. It's all of the semi-cleaned water, clean enough for us to wade through. But most probably a haven for infected.
I predicted right. Two expanders, about ten tickers and about another ten trackers.

First we're going to try take down the expanders first, simply because they will take the most work.

Dad takes one Molotov out and I take one out of my own.

I throw the cocktail, simultaneously with Dad, and quickly get another ready.

The smash of the bottle startles the other infected which the other three are helping to fight off whilst Dad and I are busy with the expanders.

Finally the bloated, ugly 'things' are burning and will die within the next minute.

I pull out a gun from my backpack, and help the others with killing the other infected.

Once they are all lying dead on the floor we wade through the water to the staircase on the other side.

Quickly, we scramble up the stairs taking two at a time, because we can hear more infected behind us.

We don't stop running until we are into what must be the break-room, where we barricade the door. Stopping any other zombies to get in. Or at least for a while.

There's a door that leads to a balcony which is two stories up, leaving any chance if us escaping easily. Or can we?

When I go out to look out to see how high up we are, on the next balcony over there is a window washers platform.

The easy fix is to get into the next room. But it's not that simple.

We have two choices, one being we leave the room in order to find the door, or we can scoot across the narrow ledge to the next balcony.

After a small debate we choose to risk crossing the ledge. Risky, but at least there's less of a chance of being hunted down by infected.

Dad goes first, then Paisley, Nirvana, me and Trevor.

The main idea is not to look down. This is crucial, between life and death. Maybe not so major, but it gets you into the right frame of mind.

We shuffle across, with no injuries, and leap onto the window washer's platform.

Dad presses a button and we slowly descend to the ground.

Once we hit the ground we jump off the side and sprint until we can run no more.