Mere seconds after Frank disappeared out the door, shadows filled the doorway and a mob of infected appeared before us. Thom was slumped over the windowsill, still half hanging out, but Clive picked up and reloaded Thom's gun and we opened fire on the mad things that ran at us with carnivorous yellow eyes. The bullets hit the monsters randomly, taking out foreheads and eyes, bucking back shoulders, imploding arms and kneecaps. They fell in a wave to a pile in front of us, and kept on coming. We both ran out of ammo at around the same time, which was ill-timed on our part but there had been no time to think about ammo in advance. Clive reached over and flipped up the bed, covering us with the mattress while we turned our backs and reloaded. The weight of the creatures slammed into the mattress, almost knocking us right over, but Clive raised his back up against the mattress, holding it in place until I had finished reloading. When I finished, I took his place so that he could replace the magazine flip in his Beretta. Then we turned, braced ourselves against the wall, and pushed the mattress out with our feet, throwing the wall of infected back witht he mattress on top of them. I took advantage of the spare three seconds and hauled Thom back in from the window, his face slick with tears. He dropped to the floor and put his head in his hands, sobbing. I took hold of his face and turned it my way, looking him in the eyes.
"Thom! We have to get out of here." I said sternly. Thom turned his head to the right and looked at the empty bed frame where the mattress used to be. In the exposed spot where the mattress had been were some piles of clothes, some bottled water, and a cheap axe from Canadian Tire. Thom took in a deep breath, his stuffed up nose making a sniffling noise like that of a child home sick from school. He reached over and grabbed the axe handle, stood up, and stared at the door for a brief moment. He looked zoned out, as if he were looking far beyond what lay in front of his eyes. As the next wave of infected appeared in the doorway, he raised the axe and released a loud, indiscernible primal roar. He burst into a run, his first step hitting the mattress and springing him into the doorway. He hacked at the first thing that appeared in front of him, embedding the blade deep into the top of its skull. It stopped moving instantly and the axe was pulled down with it as it fell to the floor. Thom continued his momentum by running up its body as it fell, one foot on its leg, then one on its chest, and then as it hit the floor, one on its throat as he yanked the blade from its resting place, the metal on bone screeched as it pried out. The axe swung out in a wide arc; chopping bits off anything within arm's reach, and just kept swinging. Thom continued to move forward with the momentum, now in the hall outside of the room. He was covered almost head to toe in a thick yellow-red blood. He moved ahead and out of our sight as Clive and I stood alone in the bedroom with a pile of massacred infected bodies strewn out into the hallway. Clive and I looked at each other in disbelief for a moment, and then ran out after Thom.
One would have to see the sight in the living room to believe it. Thom was in the middle of the room, axe gripped in both hands, surrounded by about 20 infected people, and he was swinging away at them like it was a cluster of British Columbia redwoods. None of the things got within 6 inches of Thom, he was a human weed whacker. Clive took the chance as they were busy with Thom and ran to the door of the other bedroom. It still seemed intact, although it was splintered and stained with a thousand bloody handprints. Clive knocked and tried to get someone's attention on the other side as I went to help Thom. I raised my pistol and put it to the heads of any infected I came within range of, and started shooting. About forty-five seconds later, Thom and I were standing in the living room with a massive pile of bodies heaped in a circle around us. I ran quickly to the front door and looked into the hallway, where more infected were flooding in from the stairwells. I slammed the front door shut again, locking it up tight, the infected reaching the door just as I did. Their hands banged on the door, their moans seeped in through the walls, causing the hairs on my neck stand up and goose bumps rise on my arms. I turned back to check on the others. Thom still stood in the middle of the room, chest heaving from the sudden adrenaline rush. Clive stood in front of him, staring, trying to discern what state Thom was actually in. Clive turned back to the bedroom door, and eventually coaxed one of the adults to open it. Emily was the first out and her eyes widened as she tried to take in the carnage in front of her. She gave a shout back to the room to keep all of the kids in there--they didn't need to see any of this. We did a quick once around the room, but we couldn't see any sign of Frank. We checked with everyone in the bedroom, but no one, including Emily, had seen or heard from him. It was almost as if he had vanished when he left the bedroom. Emily was worried out of her mind, but she hid it well in front of her kids. Clive and I convened in the blood-soaked living room where Thom still stood, now motionless, and attempted to figure out some kind of plan.
The building was swarming with infected, inside and out. That pretty much eliminated both of our exits in one fell swoop. We were out of options, and we didn't think we had a chance to get out by attacking the infected. Sure, Thom was a wrecking ball now, and we could maybe clear the outside hallway, but to then get down three more floors and out of the building? Not bloody likely. I walked over to Thom to see if he was okay as he hadn't spoken a word or even looked at any of us since the attack ended. I stood in front of him and looked him in the eyes, asking for a sign that he was okay. He looked past me; his eyes were distant, dead. I shook him a little, repeating my questions, but he was unresponsive. I decided it was time to get a little more aggressive. I slapped him across the face, hard. His face swung to the side and stayed there for a moment. Then he slowly turned his head back to me and looked me square in the eyes. His eyebrows lowered and his eyes squinted slightly in anger. The muscles in his jaw tightened. Then he exploded.
His mouth opened wide and he screamed at the top of his lungs and grabbed me, one hand on my throat and one on my left shoulder. He ran with me in his grip, my feet tripping over one another until my back hit the wall. Thom slammed some extra force into me as I hit the wall and I could feel the drywall crack under my back and my head bounce off the stud behind. It hurt like hell. Spittle flew out of Thom's mouth in long strands as he screamed profanities in my face, his hot breath smothering me. Finally he stopped screaming and put his face up to mine, Clive now at his back, holding him. He spoke quietly to me with the tip of his nose touching mine. The heat from his anger was palpable.
"This is your fault Denny. They would have been fine in here were it not for you, and Isabel would be alive with us on our way out of town. You fucking did this you son of a bitch!"
Clive pulled Thom away from me, his fists still clenched, his knuckles white. Thom shrugged Clive's hold off of him and backed up into the middle of the room. He was still breathing heavily, sweating now. He looked exhausted and angry. He screamed again, then picked up the axe and raised it above his head, everyone in the room yelling "NO" at the same time, hands shooting out in front of them. Thom brought the axe down in the middle of the floor, then pried it back out and took another swing, hacking the floor with great conviction. We all stood frozen, unsure at first what was happening. However, as his chopping started to open up a hole in the floor and light shone up from the apartment below, we understood. Thom was digging us out.
