“Jesus...fucking christ!” John fell to the ground as the rig shook, the heavy artillery was taking it’s toll. “How the hell…” His escape to safety was right in front of him, and yet getting there seemed like an impossible task. There were infected, explosions, and a hailstorm of bullets. John remained on the ground, clinging to the relatively safe spot; the floor was cold on his face. He could charge across chaos, and pray not to get hit. Or he could wait for the soldiers to come to him, but what if they didn’t make it? “Shit!” He grunted without effort, pushing himself off the ground and onto his feet. He knew he had to run, reach the soldiers, and somehow manage to not get hit by a stray bullet. John was thankful, that at the very least, the infected weren’t focused on him, they were busy with the Seals. It would get give him a few extra seconds of leeway.

With a deep breath, and eyes focused in on the helipad, John bolted out of the door. He ran at full speed, his footsteps hitting the ground as quick as they ever head, but no one could hear them over the gunfire; not even John. Everything was happening faster than he could process it, and before he knew it there was an infected soldier in front of him. He came to an abrupt stop, as they soldier knocked him on his ass. John rubbed his jaw in a daze, the feeling of a fist lingered on his cheek.

“Well helllllloo!” His deranged smile was spread from ear to ear. He was already rearing his arm back, as he readied himself for another strike; a savage glint in his eye.

John groped the ground around him, he had dropped his rifle in the confusion, but he didn’t know that it had slid out of his reach. Then he remembered the handgun, it was still in his vest. By the time his fingers wrapped around the grip, it was too late. The Seals had beat him to the quick draw. Blood spurted out of the infected’s chest, and he slumped over; nearly falling on John in the process. John didn't waste another second. He jumped to his feet, quick like bunny, and started running to the Seals. He neglected to pick the rifle back up in the process.

The helipad was nearly in arms length when it happened. John was waving his arms in the air, “I’m not infected! Two plus two is four!” John shouted in desperation, but it also drew the attention of the crazies. One in particular immediately fired at John. The majority of the cluster missed him, and ricocheted away, but one bullet grazed the back of his leg. The sudden impact sent John stumbling into cover behind the Seals, “Fuck I think I got hit!” He frantically started patting his legs down, while the battle raged on.