Brant clambered up onto the stone wall between two crenelations. His hands grasped the bars of the fence tightly as he strained his neck to look back, there were three freaks following him in hot pursuit, snarling and flailing there are arms as they came forward. Putting both his arms atop a crenelation, Brant hoisted his body up, kicking his legs, to get on top of the wall. The tube fence was still in the way but now he was safe from the freaks on the ground.

The monstrosities came crashing into the stone wall below, not paying much heed to its existence. They pushed up against it, snarling at him, reaching for him, looking at him, there rotted faces were disgusting and Brant looked away quickly. From his tall tower he surveyed the inside of the fence. There was a ten foot wide walkway between the outer stone wall and the inner wire fence. Past that fence the round continued to a roundabout circling a small dead garden right in front of the veranda and entrance. There was no sign of the monsters one the ground leading towards the building, which gave Brant some relief, he was safe in his own personal castle. 

Brant took off his bag, and slid it between the bars of the fence, placing it on the other side but still atop the crenelation. He did the same with his sledge. He was unsure how he'd climb over this fence, spear points atop made it seem dangerous. He figured that if he just climbed up and tried to roll over he wouldn't suffer too much. And so he did try to roll over the top, and it went almost as planned, except for a long scratch down his arm from one of the tips. He cursed at this, and the sight of the blood seemed to incense the three freaks down below on the other side with more rage and hunger for his flesh.

He put his backpack back over his shoulders and grabbing his sledge he jumped from atop the crenelation, bending his knees as he landed in the walkway. He figured climbing the tall and barb wired topped fence would be far more dangerous than climbing the decorative exterior fence, and saved that as a last resort option. The gate house at the entrance seemed a far more reasonable approach. It was a small adjacent to magnificent main gate, he figured such a thing was opened electronically, and was probably now locked, and without power moving it would be a task. This was good, as the exterior fence needed to hold off the freaks. But the inner gate was a plain chain link fence locked with a padlock. The padlock being on the outside gave Brant the idea that the sight was abandoned, another good sign, looks like he'd been dealt a good hand, forgetting that he was also dealt the apocalypse. The door to the small gatehouse was locked, but Brant broke in easy enough, he smashed a window with his sledge and cleared out the glass. He peeked his head in first to see if there were freaks inside, and fortunately there weren't.

He crawled through the window, it was a small room, there was an old timey chandelier dangling from the roof, which obviously didn't work There was a swivel office chair, and an intercom and electronic switch system for use at the gate. A small closet was in one side of the room. Going to it he tried to open it, expecting it to be locked but it wasn't. Pulling open the door, there was a guard uniform hanging, a bucket and some some janitor's supplies, and a set of keys dangling from a a large nail put into the wood. Brant snatched them and climbed back through the window into the open world. 

There were many keys on the ring, and he spent a few minutes trying to obtain the right one for the padlock, but eventually found it when the lock opened and the gate gave way. He closed it behind him, now locking the fence, but with the padlock on the inside, a dead give-away to any other survivor investigators that there would be someone inside, perhaps alive, or perhaps now dead. 

He strolled down the lane passing the dead garden and came under the veranda and up to the main gate. Once more he fumbled with the keys until he found the right one to open the main doors, being extra careful to not make much noise. Behind one of the pillars was a corpse, lying back against the wall, it wasn't stirring but Brant didn't want to take any chances. 

Entering the psychiatric hospital it was dark, light came through the windows, but not much illumination was provided. It was getting late, and Brant's adventure's all day had worn him out. He was standing in the main hall, directly in front of him was a long dark corridor leading to cells he surmised, and definitely not the direction Brant wanted to go. There doors to his left and right, and he took the one to the right, which lead him to a staircase. There was a door though, with the title "Parlour" on it. He approached and opened it slowly, it creaked and screeched, he swore, if there were freaks in there they had just heard that. As the door opened, there was no smell coming from the room, a good sign that no rotting freaks were inside. He noted a small desk, a TV, a few couches and chairs, a dead plant, a coffee table and some books. But no freaks. Brant entered, he did a thorough search of the room, satisfied he lay down on the couch and slept. 

His sleep was rudely interrupted by shouting, and yelling, and screaming and gunfire. Brant took up his sledge and ran from the parlour into the stairwell, into the hall and looked through the doors on the window out onto the veranda. There was a dead freak, a bitten and bleeding man, and a man standing over it all with a gun in his hand. Then he heard it, a stirring in the building, the sound of movement, of feet, many feet trudging along the corridor leading to the cells, and their moans and howls and snarls. 

Brant threw open the door to the outside world and yelled at the man "Leave him, get in here!"