The Virus

A further shot rang out as McAllister fired a second bullet.
“C’mon lads, there’s only two left,” Gus Razor yelled as the second zombie fell. “We can take them!”
He shoved Tony and Craddock forward as the remaining attackers reached them. With the prisoners further down the steps, Frank could see the turmoil unfold. Tony grabbed one by the head, repeating his previous spectacle by slamming him into the wall. A crunch split through the air and the corpse slid down into a crumpled heap on the floor. The final zombie lunged at McAllister, only to be deflected by the barrel of his shotgun. Frank stared with wide eyes. The undead corpse was none other than Daniels; the scrawny guard Razor had knocked unconscious the previous day.
A right hook from Tony thwarted a second lunge at McAllister. The men watched as the undead guard lost his footing and stumbled into Craddock. Without warning, a high-pitched scream came from the prisoner as the zombie tore off part of his cheek. Chewing hungrily, the monster seized Craddock in a pincer-like embrace, dragging him to the ground.
“Fucking hell, don’t just stand there, Tony!” Razor snapped. “Give the lad a hand.”
The giant made his way over to the grappling men, just as the zombie’s eager teeth ripped away Craddock’s nose. The pitch of his screams intensified as Tony dragged the flailing attacker away. Frank looked on as Zielinski rushed to aid Craddock.
“Is that the last of them?” Gus asked, stepping over the two men and making his way down the staircase. Frank followed, watching as Tony crushed the zombie’s head under his foot.
“I think so,” McAllister muttered, reloading his shotgun. “How’s Craddock?”
“Looks like John Travolta in Face/Off.” Razor chuckled, stepping past the guard. “He’ll live.”
Razor looked down each of the corridors, which led to a different section of the prison.
“He’s dead.”
Frank turned to look at Zielinski, who had joined them. The motionless body of Craddock lay on the steps.
“What do you mean dead? He only lost his hooter,” Razor countered, marching up to the Polish inmate.
“Yeah, and now he’s dead.”
“How?”
“I don’t know,” Zielinski replied. “He might’ve had a heart attack? Go check him if you want.”
“Tony, check him,” Gus said, running a hand through his greying hair.
The giant strode over to the staircase as Razor spoke once more.
“I can’t believe this is happening. You lot are dropping like flies.”
“We have to keep moving,” Frank said.
“And what annoys the shit out of me is how we haven’t found Henderson yet. I’d love to give his corpse a good kicking.”
“He should be here,” McAllister told them. “Unless he’s already escaped.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s behind all this,” Razor continued. “Seems like something he’d do.”
A yelp of pain caused them all to flinch. Frank whirled around as Tony jumped to his feet, his hand pressed against his ear.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” Gus snapped as the giant man staggered down the steps. The answer came as Craddock lurched upright. He twisted to face the group. He smiled wide, baring bloodied teeth.
“I thought you said he was dead?” Razor demanded, turning on the Polish inmate.
“He was!” Zielinski said. “His heart stopped. He wasn’t breathing.”
“Well, he’s tickety-boo now isn’t he?” Razor snapped. He turned to McAllister. “Are you going to shoot him or what?”
The guard aimed the shotgun as Craddock got to his feet. Blood oozed out of the gaping wounds on his face, rolling over his beard as he staggered down the steps. His mad eyes roamed over the group. He let out a shriek as he ran towards them. McAllister fired, striking the prisoner square in the head. Craddock stumbled and rolled onto the ground, only to be met by a barrage of kicks from the other inmates. Frank joined the assault, aiming at Craddock’s head, stamping viciously until the corpse lay motionless.
“I still can’t believe you’ve only got that little pea-shooter.” Gus sneered, wiping the underside of his shoes on Craddock’s trousers. “You’d be better off using your baton.”
An eerie silence descended over the wing, a stark contrast to the cries of pain and terror echoing previously. Frank made to walk down the rest of the stairs, but was stopped by Razor’s grasp on his elbow. He turned as the man subtly pulled him closer.
“Follow my lead, Frankie,” he mumbled. His lips barely moved, reminding Frank of a ventriloquist. He watched as Gus and the others convened around McAllister.
“Right lads, are you ready?” The guard looked from face to face. “What are you doing?”
Before he could react, the prisoners attacked. Frank stared open-mouthed as the guard was dragged to the ground. Gus pried the shotgun from his hands as Tony and Zielinski rained a series of kicks into McAllister’s midriff.
“Gus, what the fuck are you doing?” Frank snapped, clearing the remaining steps.
“We’re getting out of here, Frankie.” Razor beamed. “That’s enough, lads. Tony, take his helmet.”
The assault ceased as Tony pried McAllister’s helmet off. The guard chanced a look up.
“You’re gonna regret that, Razor.” McAllister coughed as he got to his knees.
“Suck it up, buttercup. You’re wearing riot gear. It won’t have hurt much.” He aimed the shotgun at McAllister’s face. “But this will.”
“What do you want?”
“The keys.”
McAllister reached down and unclipped the keychain from his belt. He tossed them towards Zielinski.
“I’ll take those,” Gus said, snatching the keys from the Polish inmate. “You got shot the last time you tried to open a bloody gate.”
Zielinski remained silent, shaking his head as Frank spoke.
“We’re just gonna walk out of here?”
“Why not?” Gus grinned. “This place has gone to shit. Now is as good a time as any to spread our wings.”
“Where will you go?” McAllister asked from the ground. “If this is happening outside, nowhere is safe. No town, no