The Virus

made it.”
“What?”
“He got into the lift. The doors are closed. He’s fine.”
Amy listened to the sounds below. The zombies had found another barricade as they hammered on the lift door. She felt the tightness in her lungs loosen. Although Terry was an obnoxious old man, she was thankful he was still alive. Her relief turned to wonderment as a thought entered her mind.
“Why don’t they just press the button?” she whispered, almost as if the creatures might overhear and take her advice.
Ben shrugged his shoulders. “They’ve been at it for a few seconds and not one of them has pressed it so far.”
Before Amy could question the intellectual capacity of their attackers, Terry’s voice echoed through the shaft.
“Are you two coming to help me or what?” he shouted. “I can’t stay here forever.”
Amy looked past Ben and down their intended escape route. The crisscrossing pipes allowed little room for manoeuvrability, and she couldn’t even see the hatch leading to the elevator shaft.
“I’m not sure we’ll be able to get across here!” Amy shouted back. “There’s not much room to move.”
“You need to get over here.”
“It’s fine,” Ben replied, “They can’t open the doors. We’ll get to you soon.”
“Never mind soon. You need to get here now!”
“We can’t see a way across yet.”
“Well, you need to find a way across. At three o’clock there’s a hot water release on the pipes. You’ll be burned alive in there!”
The pair cast each other a worried glance. Amy looked at the illuminated hands on her watch. It was 14:50.

12
The prison was filled with the gleeful shrieks of the undead and the screams of those they were feasting on. Gunshots sounded from a distance as more of the guards were devoured.
“We’ll go above the hall,” McAllister told the prisoners behind him. “It’s a bloodbath down there.”
The six men quietly rushed through the corridors, listening for any sign of the lunatics. There didn’t seem to be any nearby, at least none that could be heard. Frank glanced behind them as they turned down another corridor. The last thing he wanted, being at the rear of the procession, was to be attacked by somebody chasing them. He looked back towards the front of the group where McAllister stood, his shotgun poised. In the middle of the congregation, Gus spoke in a hushed whisper to Tony. The hunched man was nodding in response. Frank frowned. Now what was he planning?
“How much further, McAllister?” Gus hissed. “We’re sitting ducks out here.”
“Just over this balcony and then down to the fire doors,” the guard replied.
He glanced both ways before stepping onto the metal grid overlooking the great hall. The rest of the cons followed, staring in disbelief at the massacre below. Frank eyed the scene in awe. Strewn limbs, innards and pools of blood concealed the prison floor. The macabre display served as a grisly memento from his army days; memories he longed to repress. He looked up as a shriek filled the air.
“There’s another one,” Craddock yelped as an undead con darted over the walkway. Frank strained to see upfront, looking past the countless bodies. The sound of the demented man filled the air as his feet slapped against the metal grid. McAllister levelled his weapon, waiting for the creature to get close.
“Don’t be wasting bullets on this piece of shit!” Razor snapped. “Let Tony deal with it.”
He pulled McAllister aside, pushing his bodyguard forward to meet the lunatic. “Do me proud, Tony.”
The colossus remained silent, his arms outstretched. Frank looked on, expecting to see another demonstration of the man’s fierce strength. When the attacker reached him, Tony grabbed the man by his shirt and lifted him off his feet. The undead prisoner snarled before Tony hurled him over the railings. The con fell through the air, hitting the ground with bone-crushing force.
“Good boy.” Gus grinned, patting the huge man on the back. “I think we should let Tony stay upfront with you, McAllister.”
The guard lifted his hands in submission before leading the men onwards. Frank followed, looking down at the shattered remains of the crazed prisoner. His heart skipped a beat when four undead guards ran beneath the bridge. They exchanged a glance between them and looked up at the escaping prisoners. Seeing their prey crossing the walkway, they emitted a gleeful screech and sprinted through a door.
“I think we’ve got company,” Frank told the rest of the group as they neared the end of the hallway.
“Where?”
“Four of them just went through the door down there.” He pointed towards the spot the men vanished.
“Then they’re going to cut us off before we can reach the exit.” McAllister groaned. “C’mon we’ve got to be quick.”
The men increased their pace as they left the metal walkway and made their way down another hall. The screaming and gunshots seemed to get closer as they followed McAllister and Tony around a corner. Frank looked on as Gus pulled Zielinski closer, whispering something in his ear. Frank tried to get closer to overhear what was said as they reached the top of a staircase.
“We’re almost there, it’s—”
The sound of hurried footsteps stole McAllister’s tongue. Frank watched as he aimed the shotgun down, looking for the source of the noise. The men waited, all staring at the foot of the stairway, hoping to catch a glimpse of any potential attackers. The sound came again, only this time accompanied by four flesh-hungry guards racing up the steps towards them. McAllister didn’t wait for them to approach. As soon as they fell into his line of sight, he fired the shotgun. The rubber bullet struck the first zombie in the head, sending it staggering back into the others. The guard reloaded as the remaining three clambered over the motionless corpse and continued towards their prey.