They were all huddled in the small room, John and the other survivors. It was a bit unnerving at first being thrown into a room with a bunch of people, after having been out there alone for a month. He took solace in the fact that they at least weren't infected. Everyone had the same look on their face, they were worried. The hope was there, but they were all worried about what would happened. John knew this because he felt the same way. Still, he realized there might be a chance that his sister was somewhere in the crowd. "Taylor!" He called out for sister, making his way through the crowd. There was no response so he decided he would try his niece next. "Ava, are you here-" The room shook violently, and John managed to trip over another survivor.

"All civilians are to be eliminated," The words echoed in his ear, and it took him a second to register what they were saying. [i]Fuck, fuck, fuck.[/i] John frantically jumped up and scanned the room for a way out, and noted that there was only one exit, but it seemed to be sealed shut. Some of the other survivors were trying to knock it open with little to no success; the door refused to give way. John was on his way to help them, when he saw the solider get knocked over the railing.

"Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeees and gentlemen!" The large man, who had entered when John wasn't looking, was now yelling. "Thank you for visiting the Rig, we hope to see you again soon. WOOP WOOP!" John instantly knew that the man was infected, he seen it all before. The crazed shouting, the animal look like on his face, and to make matters worse the man produced two hand grenades from his belt.

John looked to the other solider for protection, but he was still unconscious on the floor; his rifle was on the floor next to him. "Shit," John cursed. He fought his way through the panicking crowd to grab the gun. It was heavier than he had expected it to be, and he had seen enough movies to know he need to check the safety. It was ready to fire. "Just...point and shoot." He tried to line the iron sights up as best as he could, hoping to hit the man in the center of his chest, but he had never been a great marksmen. "Fuck it." He pulled the trigger, the gun kicked violently, and a stream of bullets flew out.

The gunfire immediately silenced the room. Survivors briefly stopped panicking, to locate the source. John lowered the rifle for a moment, checking to make sure he had hit him. He had missed his intended area. Rather than hitting center mass there was a line of bullet holes that started at the man's neck and continued upward. The Marine Sergeant fell back against the wall, smearing it with blood. The two hand grenades rolled out of his hands, and off the edge of the catwalk. They harmlessly clinked on the ground next to John as they landed, their pins still intact. John sunk to his knees, "Oh thank god." He looked over at the unconscious man and said to no one in particular, "I bet he can get us out of here."