Of Eyes and Fingernails

You Can't Run and You Can't Hide

This one's kinda long, but I hope you enjoy! Please comment (whether you like the story or not) and let me know how ya feel! Read away, my loves! This is where the real story begins!

-Haley

"Let's have the first person come on up!" Deandra called. Mr.Broadway, with his hands still on his head, moved forward. A soldier followed him, gun pressing on the Marine's back. "Back off, Army dog. I won't hurt a fly in here," Broadway calmly commanded. The soldier took his gun away from the man's back, but kept it near. "Sit in this chair, and we'll make it as fast as possible." Deandra had a pointed nose, dark skin, and big, round eyes. Her cheekbones sat high on her face and were very sharp. She could be seen easily through her protective suit. It had a large plastic window on the front that allowed the wearer's full face to be viewed. "Blood's nice and light," she commented. "Alright, Mister...uh..." She paused. "Broadway," he smiled. "Oh! Alright Mr.Broadway, you're free to go and sit in this room wherever you wish. Your blood seems clear." With a nod, he stood and walked back to the waiting area. The cots had been completely removed, and the room was now stripped bare.

Deep voice spoke up. "Forgive me, I'm Specialist Cranton. We had to strip the room after the infected came in. We will be disinfecting this entire area." Everyone sighed. "Our stuff was in there,"  a girl from the back of the line called. Cuban accent jumped in, "Hey, just call me D. I've gotta say; you don't want your stuff anymore. That zombie blood got allover your shit." The line moved forward. Andrea looked at the clock. 2:30 AM. Everyone in line began to talk amongst themselves. Not many people had spoken since this began, but everyone was not talking all at once. "How could you kill them! There could be a cure! They're still human!" One boy hollered. D laughed. "Ain't nothin' human 'bout these things." He pointed at the boy. "They'd take a good bite outta-" "That's enough!" Cranton cut D off. "We have no choice but to use deadly force. Reasoning is no option, and they are a risk to others. We've been waiting for hours to get permission to explain anything, but we can't explain what we don't know." The line moved.

Cranton sighed. "The police started getting calls about people becoming aggressive and trying to bite others. The ones bitten became infected with whatever was ailing the one who bit them. The police became overrun. At first they tried taking the ones infected into custody, but the police couldn't get close enough. A few officers even got bit. That's when they called us in; when it went city-wide. We've got a barrier up. A perimeter. The whole city's under lockdown." Everyone gasped. A few people pulled out their cell phones, but there was still no service. The next in line was the American History teacher. He said nothing as he approached the chair. The room fell silent, and for an unknown reason, everyone was filled with nervousness. Deandra grabbed the teacher's arm as he lowered himself into the seat.

Without warning, He pushed her hand away and bolted toward the door. Gunshots deafened everyone in the room, and Mr. Todd's body shook as bullets penetrated his back. His arms shot out as if he'd been surprised. Andrea watched in horror as he fell to the ground and blood pooled around his body. "Blood's dark. He was infected," Deandra said, unphased by the violence that had unfolded before her. Everyone in line had been turned in the opposite direction by the soldiers. Tears streaked down Andrea's face. "You can call me Eric," someone whispered to her through the screams of the panicked civilians. She turned her head to the side and found that that someone was the same soldier who had helped her hardly more than two hours ago. "I'll make sure you get out safe," he said solemnly, "I promise. Setting his hand on her shoulder, he smiled, revealing a small gap between his front teeth. A rather cute gap.

Andrea was shaking, and Mrs.Bowlin had passed out, hitting her head on the floor in the process. Shuffling was heard, and everyone knew it was Mr.Todd's remains being cleaned off of the floor. No one dared to look. Soldiers tried in vain to comfort the young school kids standing in line, but the soldiers themselves were afraid and unsure deep down inside. The man who had shot Mr.Todd had sat himself with his back against the wall. D walked over to him, crouching down and setting his hand on the soldier's shoulder. "You did the right thing, Willford. He was infected." Willford stood. "Yeah, well what if he wasn't? I still killed a human being. An American citizen who was still fully conscious!"