R H Y S H A Y E S
R H Y S H A Y E S
This was a prank, right? Surely there were cameras here. Rhys was gaslighting himself as he walked, his eyes on the woman in front of him wielding a tiki pole like that wasn't hilarious in literally any other situation. He wished he was a better man, then. He should take the lead, not hide behind a small Asian lady like a coward. But then again, who was he to underestimate anyone? She could probably kick his ass. They got bumped into various times, mostly by people who were still actually alive, and it made Rhys shudder. Not because he wasn't wearing a shirt, though that didn't help the situation. But because he wished the next bump wouldn't be a zombie. He felt oddly vulnerable, despite the evidence of the employee's tattered shirt telling them that even if he was still wearing his shirt it wouldn't save him. But fake safety was still safety, right? The hairs on the back of his neck were upright, his eyes wide and laser-focused.
They were slowly headed toward the elevators, but that would get chaotic really fast. Because in a place you don't know, what is the first place you go to? Right. Your own hotel room with your own stuff and a door you can lock. Rhys's room wasn't far from here, but somehow the staff area seemed like a safer bet. They could call for help from there, probably. As they walked, Rhys felt his heart beating out of his chest so hard it almost hurt. His fist was curled around the knife so tight he would find the pattern of the hilt in his palm later. But the small tinge of pain kept him alert and walking, his shoes slightly sloshing with the leftover water from the pool. In his other hand was the soft and warm hand of his dance partner, a contrast to the hard and cold metal in his other. He glanced back at her and the other woman to ensure they were okay.
Most of the people were still behind them, but that didn't mean people didn't start pushing themselves into elevators like sardines, putting one elevator over capacity, an angry ring from within the elevator signalling that it wouldn't leave like this. Rhys frowned at the sight. Would they even be able to get into an elevator? They needed an empty one. He came to a full stop when the woman in front of him wielding the tiki pole did, and he looked down at her for a second before following her gaze. His wish for an elevator got granted, but in a sick monkey paw kind of way. It was empty of alive people, that's for sure, but three zombies reared their heads toward the woman in front of him. Christ. That body in the middle of the elevator was fucking terrible.
Rhys never wanted to see someone entrailes, and here he was exposed to them for the second time in a span of five minutes. Swallowing away the bile, he noticed the woman shifting her weapon and asking for help just as one of the dead stalked toward her. What was he supposed to do? Two of them advanced at the same time, leaving the third in their dust after a brief struggle to all come through the elevator door together. Good, they needed to come out. "Back up, back up." He said, letting go of the woman in his other hand and making a quick decision that barely registered for him. He raised his leg and kicked the left-most zombie square in the chest, making him fall backwards halfway into the elevator.
It only served to agitate the other two, but one still advanced towards the Japanese woman while one snarled at him. Divide and conquer then. There was no way they'd be able to get into one of the other elevators, they needed to clear this one. Rhys wasn't a brave man, not really. But he did have a lot of fighting training, even if it was just performative. More like a dance, really. Editing would make it look real. He rarely ever got actually punched during his job. And he prayed to God this stupid idea would work as he backed up more to the left, making one follow him while the other went toward the women. "Fuck!" Without thinking, he raised the knife and stabbed the zombie through the temple. It crumpled to the ground right away, almost taking the knife with it had Rhys not wiggled it out. His face scrunched up in disgust as he walked forward toward the elevator, where the zombie he kicked was trying to get up. Rhys wouldn't let him, though. His heel connected with its face, and he stomped several times until he stopped moving.
The sound was sickening, and all of this happened in a matter of seconds without any real thought. He was running on pure adrenaline. Quickly, he turned towards the women to see if they needed help with the last one, the elevator now clear for them to step in.