** PREVIOUSLY A FEATURED HORROR STORY**
The dead have risen. You wake up in the middle of this violent, rotting new world. The putrid stench of carnage is in the air. You flip on the news to learn that dead people are coming back and cannibalizing e...
The gruesome undead are almost close enough to reach out and tear you to bits. The one in the lead, a white-eyed man wearing shredded army garb and dripping semi-fresh blood, will be the first to reach you. You stumble backward toward Quinn blindly. When you finally look at his face, you see the anguish upon it. He winces as he puts a silent bullet into the head of the fallen soldier.
Was he one of Quinn's comrades? you wonder.
A few more undead fall under the force of Quinn's deadly bullets, but more just keep coming. Their putrid breath as they moan and growl mingles with the rot of their flesh. It's almost enough to make you hurl. Some of them are faster than others, however, and you don't have time to be sick. You have your knife out, just in case one of the fast ones slips by Quinn.
"Lawrence!" he shouts.
"Yes?" Lawrence echoes back from the other tunnel.
"Retreat! We'll rendezvous at the drop point!" Quinn says.
As Quinn is reloading, an undead gets too close for comfort. Eager to contribute, you lash out at it with the knife. A disgusting squelchy sound later, and the undead is down, leaving your knife covered in stinking zombie juice.
"You got it, sir!" Lawrence says.
Quinn doesn't waste time after hearing Lawrence's confirmation. He coaxes you back with a firm nudge on your shoulder. "Run, there's too many," he warns.
You don't need telling twice before you take off. Mucky liquid splashes up with every step, but you ignore it. The way it's sloshing over in your shoes isn't nearly as terrible as getting caught by one of them. The little pew sounds behind you, lets you know that Quinn is still shooting his gun - with a not completely silent silencer. Regardless, he's sticking right with you, because the light he's wearing keeps shining, lighting up your path every few seconds.
Suddenly, when you have to stop, he slams right into your back, almost causing you both to fall. The undead are in front of you now, too. You cry out involuntarily at the sight of them. Gnarly and hungry for a fresh snack, they're delighted to see you. At least that's what you assume the moans and teeth gnashing mean. Hello, pleased to eat you.
When it goes dark, they look even more terrifying. Their eyes seem to retain the light and glow - and that's when something fully registers. They can see you in the dark! Did they not perk up, glaring at you? Are they not keeping their pale eyes locked on you this very moment?
Looking back, you see that they're still hot on your trail from that direction. You're blocked alright. There's no hope, you realize. You start to panic, your legs are about to give when Quinn wraps a sturdy arm around your wrist and pulls you into...the wall?
It's another tunnel - a clear one at that. Without looking back, you just run full out right behind Quinn, the light bouncing up and down with his strides. Fueled by the fact that these things can see you down here, and the number of them, you think you're running faster than you've ever ran in your life! Adrenaline is no joke. You're probably breaking Olympic records.
Quinn skids to a halt, and you start to worry again, but then you notice he's climbing a ladder. "We have to get out of here," he declares. He'll get no argument out of you.
Heart hammering, nerves jumping, breathing heavy, you follow him up. The lid slides open and you both break light. You've never been more happy to see the sun. But you don't have time to enjoy it. A commotion is already breaking out nearby. It looks like a human family - a mother and father with two small children - is trying to fend off a small group of undead. Quinn is already doing his duty, gunning down all the attacking undead. Shaky and still catching your breath, you join in, missing a few, but helping none-the-less.
One by one, they crumble. Fifteen undead targets later, the humans are free. However, they don't approach or even say thank you. They're so frightened, they just run, heading toward a building that doesn't appear to have been broken into yet.
I hope they make it, you think.
"Come on," Quinn says, not sparing more time for them. " We gotta keep moving to the Rendezvous point." You nod and fall into place behind him.
It's only been hours, but the city is clearly on its way to ruins. Papers and debris is scattered across the pavement. Windows are broken, shops are empty - raided most likely - and a few appear to have been burned. Vehicles of all kinds, even a bike and a moped are abandoned. Blood is smeared on some of them, leaving little confusion as to what happened to the owners. Every now and again, you see a mangled and pulpy corpse. It's enough to set fear deep in your bones. Seeing the place like this is shocking. Disturbing. Everything is going to hell.
After four or five blocks, the gory, inanimate bodies begin to thin. Destruction wanes down significantly. Abandonment is still evident, but not so frightening. Quinn stops. He looks around, then whistles loudly. Not a single sound follows.
"This is the drop point." Quinn's brown eyes are searching, tension fully visible on his dark face. "He should be here." Keeping his eyes all around, he sprints over to a manhole in the street. "He should have come up right here."
But Lawrence wasn't there. Not anywhere in sight, and you're betting he's not anywhere near, or at least not near and alive or in top shape. If he were, he would have heard that whistle. The undead probably heard it for miles. They might be coming now. But Lawrence could be near and wounded. Maybe he's stuck in the sewer...
"What do we do?" you ask.
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