[center][h3]March 14, 2018 - Harvard, Massachusetts.  Bromfield School.[/h3][/center]
[center]51 Degrees.  Rain.  Thunder in the vicinity.[/center]
[center][IMG]http://i67.tinypic.com/w82lb5.jpg[/IMG][/center]

"Shit shit shit shit [i]shit[/i]!" Nosering's voice exclaimed over the radio in between bursts of breaths.  The group of four chased the rampaging Patriot through the hole in the wall only to encounter a score of freshly infected staff and patients blocking their path.  For the moment, it seemed the risen were distracted with the hulking entree that had passed through.  This gave Isaac enough time to inspect the remains of the mutilated form of Doctor Harper, whose spine and shoulders appeared to have been liquified.

"He's dead, New Guy," hissed the voice of Skullface.  "We need to catch Eddie."

Isaac paid him little heed.  He frantically searched Harper's jacket, carefully avoiding the blood-soaked spots.  From the lab coat pockets, Isaac procured several items: gum wrappers, a key fab, an ID card, and most importantly, a tinted syringe with a fresh label: [i]Singh, Isaac[/i].

Isaac stood, examining the syringe for a moment.  But the group wasn't going to wait.  Nosering patted Isaac's shoulder and gestured toward a fire exit.  Pocketing the syringe, Isaac nodded slowly and made his way to the exit, testing the door for excessive heat before opening it.

Smoke from the lower floors were billowing upward.  Hesitantly, Isaac made his way back down the stairs.  Following closely behind him was Sticks, with Nosering behind him protectively.  Skullface held up the back of the line, slowly closing the door behind him so as to not attract the horde.

"Okay, okay.  Can we just discuss what the fuck just happened for a minute?"  Nosering said over the radio.

"No."  Skullface and Isaac replied in unison.

"Fine..." Nosering muttered before patting Sticks on the shoulder.  "How are you holding up, buddy?"

The trembling figure jumped at the pat, but he took some deep breaths.  "Eddie..."

"Don't worry about Eddie," Nosering said, "He's tough.  Whatever shit they've got him on, he'll shake it."

Sticks looked up at Nosering, then at Skullface.  Skullface gave a nod of assurance.  But Isaac knew better.  There was no turning back once you've been turned.  And if Isaac's instincts were right about Skullface, he knew that the man was starting to come to grips with that fact.

The group made their way down to the second floor.  However, the smoke and heat pouring up the stairs from the first floor was too unbearable to risk pushing further.  They would have to find another way down.

Carefully, Isaac opened the door leading to the second floor.  The hall was filled with smoke and silhouettes of bodies lumbered about.

"What's it look like?"  Skullface asked.

"[color=goldenrod]Crowded and low visibility.[/color]"  Isaac replied.

Skullface cursed under his breath.  He paused silently.  Isaac could almost hear his thoughts as the man calculated each risk.  The first floor was almost certainly a death trap and going back the way they came, with the halls as packed as they were, was not a better option.  "We proceed quickly but cautiously.  Keep a few feet of distance apart.  If one of us gets picked off, end it quickly.  You got it?  No hesitation."

Silence.  Stillness.  Skullface spoke up again, "I need a confirmation."

"We got it."  Nosering confirmed, in an uncharacteristically serious tone.

"Smith?"  Skullface said.

"I'm good.  I'm okay, Bill."  Replied Sticks.

"Good.  New Guy?"

"[color=goldenrod]Ready.[/color]"  Isaac said.  He drew in a deep breath.

After a moment's pause, during which Isaac could make out the subtle sound of a prayer, Skullface's voice barked out strongly, "Go!"

The team moved like a perfectly trained unit.  Even Sticks, who had been rendered nearly incapacitated with fear minutes prior, had found an inner sense of preservation that honed his instincts.  Isaac crouched low as he proceeded down the hall, keeping his spacing from Sticks.  His breathing was audibly heavy in his mask, as was the pounding in his head.  But his eyes were sharp.  With his adrenaline overpowering the remnants of the drugs, Isaac had managed to tap into a mechanical state of being that he had experienced many times before over the past few months.  Three times in the mountains.  Once at a FEMA camp.  And once more as he infiltrated and single-handedly overpowered the manned defenses of the Eastern Front.  Isaac became a survival machine.  Cold.  Ruthless.  Efficient.

The first wave of bodies, the one known to the group, crumbled quickly.  Their flesh and fluids melted like butter at the spray of hot gunfire.  Their limbs flailed uselessly before the bodies toppled.  With careful weaves and little time to finish off the threats, the group dodged the fallen and continued onward.

Fleshy bodies hurled themselves toward Sticks.  But with the adequate spacing, he was able to maneuver away while Nosering repelled and disabled the body.  Isaac and Skullface held off until the Sticks was ready again and they pressed onward.

As the risen began to notice the shots and the living coming closer, they began to frenzy.  Isaac and Sticks knelt in their spots, covering a 180 degree angle with semi-automatic fire while Nosering and Skullface stood, covering the rear 180.

"Advance!" Skullface shouted in-between flashes of gunfire.  Feeling the burn in his quads, Isaac crept forward, with the group keeping the same formation.  Glass crashed over Isaac as hands reached out to grab.  He quickly rolled forward and spun, letting a three-shot burst rip through the air, cutting just above Sticks' head and causing him to freeze.  But as Isaac recoiled, he could feel his backside come in contact with cold flesh.  His heart stopped.  His hand trembled.  And for a moment, his machine came to a cold stop.

A force that shook the walls and ground reignited the spark for Isaac and ultimately saved his life.  As a hole was ripped through the wall behind him, the risen who was moments away from turning Isaac was flung, with Isaac sprawling out in a different direction.  His hands slid along the ground, catching on edges of stone and glass as he gazed toward the smokey direction of the hole.

There, he found a towering figure of a man-turned-beast, standing over Nosering and Skullface.  Its breaths were loud and audible, even despite the deafening that close-range gunfire had caused.  From the corner of his eye, Isaac caught Sticks crawling backward.  Meanwhile, the leftover risen had turned away from the group and, instead, made their way toward Patriot.  With a frightening roar, the Patriot beast raised its arms and swung, batting the bodies away as if they were toys.  Nosering and Skullface hastily retreated back toward the stairs.  With the beast and the horde separating the group, Isaac made his way back to his feet and grabbed Sticks' arm, pulling him to his feet.

Sticks clung to him desperately, pulling him down, but with another tug, Isaac managed to bring him back up.  "[color=goldenrod]Move![/color]"