"Carter." The voice was distinctly feminine, gentle. That was his name, right? Who was this woman. Where was he....

"Carter..." Called the voice again, drawing out his name a little longer this time. He reached through the foggy room, pushing his way through the haze, moving blindly towards the sound.

"CARTER!" His mind slipped, the dream shattered into sudden wakefulness as the man huddled in the broom closet raised his shield over his head instinctively, flinching beneath the protective barrier. Daylight streamed in through the small crack at the top of the door. He must've fallen asleep.... fallen asleep... ASLEEP! 

His thoughts screamed at him, suddenly panicking as he realized he had fallen asleep in the gas cloud. He fumbled around in a frenzy and quickly checked the seal on his mask. Okay, it was still secure. It was still daylight so he couldn't have been asleep for long. Not to mention the fact that he was still alive. For the fifth time this week he wished that his watch had not been broken on that bent street sign... though the metal band had probably saved him from acquiring a slit wrist in that frantic escape. His eyes moved upward, hand wiping away the fog on the exterior of his mask. The door was still held shut, sealed by a toppled over bucket of brooms and mops. He lay curled into the corner, as he had been for what was now hours. The infected that were chasing him must have been drawn away by something more interesting or easy to catch. He didn't hear their mindless clawing anymore.

He raised himself up, carefully planting the transparent shield between himself and the doorway as he pushed the cleaning tools out of the way as quietly as he could. The last broom-handle fell away with a soft tap as it came to rest back in the corner. Carter lifted the make-shift club from the floor, braced his shoulder against the shield and slowly opened the door, peering through his mask and the shield as the door swung open on quiet hinges. It was silent, eerily so, and the big man crept out of the closet with the lightest steps he could manage in his heavy gear.

It was then that he heard a loud thud above him ,and the sound of something rolling across the floor. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the loud noise in such a silent atmosphere, but he managed not to make much noise himself beyond a slight hiss of breath and a shuffling step. He lanced up at the ceiling briefly, then checked up and down the hallway. It seemed clear, for now. He kept his club at the ready and moved towards the stairs. If nothing else he needed to get to the higher floors to check the filter on his mask... but he was not terribly excited about the idea of visiting whatever made that noise. Noise was a sign of something living, and living things had made a habit of trying to kill him the last several weeks.