Indy heard a rhythmic crackling and thudding outside the apartment; a sound which was fast becoming familiar. The hovering helicopter had moved a fair distance away by now and the spotlight was weaving its way through the streets and alleyways, whether guiding the soldiers and police or searching for something Indy couldn't tell. Atlanta was probably quarantined by now with every exit for miles around blocked off, he told himself. The apartment lights flickered off and on again with irregular timing. Indy wanted to barricade the door but Freya mentioned something about checking on the neighbours after saying that, of all the things to do in a crisis, she was going to prepare a roast. At least she wasn't panicking, Indy told himself. His fingers traced the grip of his antique firearm as he heard loud crashes and the sounds of furious shouting from adjacent apartments. The lights flickered off again and Indy waited patiently for a few seconds for them to flicker on again, as they had been doing for the last few minutes. They stayed off and the apartment was in darkness save for the limited moonlight and illumination from nearby neon signs. The apartment has a back up generator, he reminded himself. Then he remembered that the generator didn't switch itself on automatically, it had to be done manually. Usually this was done by the building's security guard. Indy doubted that he'd have stayed at work at a time like this. He ran a hand through his dark hair and took a deep breath.
 
“Frey,” he began. “Lock the door after me. I'm gonna check on the generator, get the lights back on. Should just need to flick a switch.” He gave her a reassuring look and fished a small torch out from one of the kitchen cupboards near the sink. He turned the handle of the apartment door and stepped into the corridor, closing the door firmly and quickly in his wake. He pressed the on button of the torch and the bright light it emitted flickered. He banged it hard against his leg and it began projecting a constant, steady light. He checked along both sides of the corridor. The stairwell to the left was clear. Half the apartments to the right were open and there was a pool of blood near the front door of one of them. He swallowed hard and took small steps towards it, walking as quietly as he could. As he turned the corner and saw red foot prints in the apartment carpet leading away from the pool of blood. The beam of his torch slowly followed the foot prints until he saw glittering in the darkness. The constant noise outside masked the low, drunk groans. Indy's torch rose in the air, illuminating the wrecked apartment room. Wallpaper had been torn, there were dents in the wall, a coffee table had been over turned, a television was smashed and on the floor. The glittering shimmered and as the torch rose Indy realised the glittering in the darkness was a pair of eyes. He gasped loudly, startled, as he saw his neighbour, a young woman in previously white pyjamas, now wet and red with fluid that glittered in the torchlight. Her hands were red and her neck was streaming blood from a fist sized wound in her throat which looked like she had been attacked by some vicious animal. Indy caught the woman's eye and she stumbled drunkly towards him. He shook his head and woke from his paralysed state. He turned and ran towards the stairwell, slamming the side of his fist into his apartment door as he passed it. 

“Lock the door!” he cried as the sound of his voice tried in vain to keep up with the blurring speed of his flight down the stairs with the bloody woman following him. It took him seconds to reach the bottom, having practically thrown himself down the steps, four or five at a time, winding his way around the baluster. He heard a loud crash above him proceeded by heavy mass tumbling down the staircase. He didn't stop to look until he reached the maintenance door; a heavy, grey metal door with a yellow sign that simply read 'maintenance'. Indy tried the handle. The heavy door wouldn't budge. His breath was hoarse and he swallowed hard as he heard the drunk groans behind him. He saw the blood smeared steps in the wake of the tumbling woman as she chased after him, dragging her feet behind her with heavy steps. One hand reached out before her and her eyes glittered in the darkness. Indy threw his weight against the door again and again until his shoulder was red. He didn't have the damn key, it was kept in the security office at the front of the building which he didn't have time to get to at this point. He withdrew the antique revolver from its holster and pulled the hammer back with his thumb. He prayed his tinkering and constant polishing hadn't somehow stopped the mechanism from working. He pointed the barrel towards the woman and gritted his teeth. He remembered Tiana and the furious struggle he had with her. He turned his gaze away and pulled the trigger desperately. The hammer struck the bullet and the dark stairwell was illuminated by two short, sharp flashes of light proceeded closely by two loud bangs. 

The barrel of the revolver smoked in front of Indy as he turned his gaze back to the woman who lay motionless at the first step of the stairwell, barely ten feet away. He turned to the heavy metal door and, having guessed where the locking mechanism was, fired another round into the door and slammed his weight into it again. It opened with a crash and he stumbled inside in its wake. Hurriedly he lifted his torch and scanned the room until he found the generators side by side. The one on the left was silent and none of its lights were on to indicate that it was functional. Another generator to the right, which read 'auxiliary' in white letters, indicated that it was working by a number of red lights. There was a large red handle and a dozen or so red switches next to it. Having no clue what to do Indy took a guess and flicked the switches at random before pulling the red handle ninety degrees to the right. The red lights of the generator switched to green and the generator began making a deafening noise which echoed through the cold, dark room. Indy flicked the last of the switches up until each of the red lights were green. The last one to turn green switched on the lights in the generator room. Indy sighed with relief as the shroud of darkness around him was lifted. He felt fear paralyse him as he caught movement in the corner of his eye. He turned slowly and choked at what he saw. An open door at the opposite end of the room with a long blood trail leading towards it preceded by glittering eyes. Two dozen pairs of glittering eyes stared at Indy as he stood paralysed near the generator. Two dozen red faces, bloodied mouths open wide showing red teeth, horrific bites and wounds on each of them in different places. Some had entire limbs missing, others had no eyes. A terrible howl woke Indy from his paralysis as the horde of bloody people shuffled towards him. The noise of the generator was quiet compared to the mass of groans and stumbling feet. Indy fired two rounds from his revolver in panic, unsure if he had hit anything, and ran back in the way he had come, through the maintenance door, hauling a heavy solid metal bar behind him. He slammed the door shut and positioned the bar between the frames and the door handle. He wished desperately that he hadn't destroyed the lock and wondered if the door had locked in the first place to keep the shuffling mass inside. They wouldn't get through the door any time soon but Indy practically flew up the stairs nonetheless, his feet pounding on the steps. The sounds of heavy thudding against the metal door followed him up the stairwell.