The creature stumbles to the side, its hands clutching at its ruined windpipe. Gurgling gasps escape from its mouth as it tumbles to the ground.

The last infected changes direction, leaping over its fatally wounded compadre. Brown grabs the infected by the front of its shirt and belt buckle, and ducks. Using the momentum of his attacker, Brown waits until the infected is nearly over him, its mouth open and reaching downward to bite him. He then extends his powerful legs and turns, using the infected’s momentum. Instead of throwing the infected, he uses the force to bring the attacker back to the ground, forcefully slamming its back onto the concrete.

A loud crack sounds as the head crashes onto the hard surface. Brown releases his grip just prior to the impact, turning to quickly gather his handgun. The last infected is convulsing where it fell. Brown puts a single round into its head, blood splashing and pooling across the light gray surface. He swiftly focuses his attention on the one he punched in the throat, its face turning a shade of blue as it struggles to gather a breath. Another gunshot echoes off the building walls as Brown puts an end to its thrashing.

As if a fog lifted, Brown becomes more aware of his surroundings. Bodies lie on or near the walkway in a curving line, their placement indicating the path of the skirmish. Walking among them, he puts a single round into any that seem to have an ounce of remaining life. The last, the female cadet who was the first to be taken down, is still unconscious from hitting her head. Warily, Brown kneels down. Her once neatly tied bun has come undone, brown hair falling to the sides.

Knowing that it isn’t the safest thing to do, he can’t seem to help himself. He brushes the hair to the side. Several of the strands are stuck to a wound where teeth marks have taken a small chunk out of her cheek. He stares at the soft skin around the bite mark, blood trickling down, the faint stirs of dust rising around her mouth from exhalations, the scrape and growing contusion on her chin. A young woman who was a living cadet just moments ago.

Screams rise over the campus. Even though the fight didn’t last long, the once distant shrieks are drawing closer. Running his fingers once through the cadet’s hair in a protective manner, the lower part of Brown’s vision blurs with tears.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he murmurs, rising.

The crack of the gunshot rings across the field, reverberating its finality off the thick walls of the nearby structures.

Realizing that he’s still outside of a locked building, he strolls to the closed doors. Peering through the glass, he sees that the student who managed to escape hasn’t moved from his position. Brown hears the words coming breathily from the cadet.

“Oh shit…oh shit…oh shit.”

Small drips of blood trickle down the glass, splatters from the rounds that struck the first of the infected. Brown pounds on the door, making sure he doesn’t come into contact with the drying contaminated liquid.

“If you’re done with your chanting, would you mind opening this fucking door?” Brown calls.

The cadet jumps, then turns and sees him, rolling around until he’s sitting with his arms providing support behind. He stares at his darkened form silhouetted against the bright light behind.

“Quick would be appreciated, but feel free to take your fucking time. I’ll just stand out here enjoying an ice cream cone until you feel that you’re ready.”

The cadet scrambles to his feet, rushing forward to press on the bar. Brown opens the door just enough to slide his large frame through, waiting long enough for the door to click shut. He knows that the noise of the fight will draw more infected into the area, but he hopes that the lack of any prey immediately in sight will send them wandering away. He doesn’t know what their limitations are as far as reasoning, but he can’t recall them begin overly logical during their escape from Pineville.