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Sophia, Dorris, Angie and Sylvia make it safely up the stairs, escaping the deteriorating situation of the gym. But not all of the group are as quick to act, or are as resilient-minded as them.

 Ali Ni Yuyn screams out, a shambler latching onto her shoulder with its jaws. She had frozen after firing the first barrage of bullets - a common, but fatal error committed by so many people in these darkened days. One could not blame her though, no indeed, for the walking dead conjured the kind of horror in someone's mind that can only be rivalled by the most traumatic of experiences. The human mind is complex; a giant computer wired up to hundreds of switches. Each of them serving a different purpose. Unfortunately for Ali, her survival switch got flicked off. 

The pain spreading through her shoulder like a thousand shards of glass, Ali snaps out of her panic-induced reverie, stuffs her pistol into the shambler's mouth, and pulls the trigger. Skull fragments and brain tissue drape her, and she howls in sheer terror. Another shambler stumbles towards her, and her trembling arms fire off the last of her bullets. The shambler shudders with each impact, but none of them are fatal, and then it lunges at her.

She attempts to flee, but a greasy hand wraps around her hair and pulls back with a force not befitting any living man. Before she can free herself from the iron-clad grip of the dead, more hands grab her, and she is hauled to the floor screaming.

Doc Richardson meanwhile has broken under the pressure, just like Ali. He had kept total silence since the group's arrival at the school, and had been rambling quietly to himself - though no one noticed, due to the dire situation they were in. Deciding that enough is enough, and that no world where the walking dead rule the day is worth living in, he lowers his rifle at the waist and begins firing.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

The M1 Garand is a powerful, yet antiquated firearm. Still, shamblers fall left and right to the Doctor's onslaught - though few of them remain down, and for a brief moment it seems he may drive them back from the fire exit. Indeed, the group do not immediately realise his true intentions are far from self-preservation. 

BOOM. BOOM. PING.

The rifle runs dry, and the Doctor loses himself in a warped sense of euphoria. He grabs the barrel of his gun, and swings it like a club. Again, and again he knocks down his opponents, but eventually, one catches his leg and drags him down. The others soon bundle him.

The gymnasium becomes the scene of an unholy feast, and for now, the horde is happily pulling apart their latest victims.