CHAPTER 16: 6:22pm - 6 Hours, 37 Minutes since outbreak

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Terry's second shot had at least knocked one of them back long enough for him to lunge at the other with the bloodied pole. As it attacked, he retaliated, rupturing it's eye socket with the pole, spraying blood everywhere. He twisted the pole with all his power until he heard the crack. His power alone wasn't nearly enough to do much of the damage he had inflicted on the twitchers thus far, but their opposing force helped at the very least.

Shooting at their heads like in zombie movies did little in the way of stop them from moving, even with missing limbs and heads they were capable of moving, just incapable of locating anything and determining surroundings, this noticed and playing on his mind with the very first one he witnessed back at the bus crash. It was terrifying and he was sure his son was traumatised by the whole thing, but he was a little trooper, a little stubborn trooper. The very fact he was stable enough to think to help out his father in a predicament despite all he had seen and experienced already was proof that he was anything but a traumatised wreck despite the psychological damage it may have already inflicted. His son may be frustratingly difficult and ready to throw his life into harm's way, but he was anything but a burden. Terry would have most certainly been caught and probably killed back there in the office had it not been for his son's quick thinking. It was a few seconds after he heard the first sound no sooner after he himself had ruined a perfectly great plan he initially had with an annoying blunder, that he suspected it might be his son and soon afterwards spotted him on the other side from the corner of his eye, the boy was a little soldier, Terry would give him that, he'll grow to be a great man someday.

His attention was averted to the horrific shriek of the buildings occupants seemingly coming from every floor in response to the gunshots and other ruckus. It was almost haunting to hear and the running sounds above and below were far from reassuring.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" He shouted and wasted no further time on the twitchers he had only temporarily downed. He turned and ran after his son.

"George! Natasha!" He shouted out and initially heard nothing, but wandering a little further down the corridor and repeating their names was rewarded with the reassuring sound of his ex-wife.

"Terry!"

"Natasha?" He followed the sounds of her voice and was led to a heavily damaged door with clear signs of attempted forces intrusion. The door was cracked right down the middle from top to bottom and there was a gaping hole in the middle. The only thing preventing further entry was an equally heavily damaged metal cabinet behind it, that they were now pushing aside to let him in.

As the fragments of the door fell apart and the cabinet shifted completely, Terry entered to a room full of clearly panicked and terrified faces.

"Fuck me, you look as shit as he does", said one of Natasha's colleagues, clearly talking about George, just as Natasha leapt into Terry's arms.

"We've been through hell", Terry replied.

"Fucking understatement".

"Shut the fuck up, Todd!" Natasha snapped, turning to him as the others pushed the cabinet in front of the door once again.

"We haven't got much time, we have to think of a way out of this place, every one of those motherfuckers in the building probably heard the ruckus and is now on their way here", Terry announced.

"Why the hell is George with you?" Natasha asked, turning to her son.

"He wasn't supposed to be, I sent him out of the city and he managed to find his way back to me, I couldn't leave him where he was and ensuring he got out would mean leaving you to your fate".

"You probably should have done that!"

"Look, Natasha, I don't want to argue now. You won't believe what we've been through today, I'm not in the fucking mood right about now, I just want to get out of here".

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