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"Ronald! Wake up, we have to go, now!"
Milton pulled on Ronald's almost completely severed arm as several people where being turned into a slaughterhouse of the infectants.
They were undetected at the moment, but not long enough until a large creature appeared above them.
Milton heftily picked up Ronald's body and ran through a large crevice that was formed in between a malfunctioning door. The crevice led into a small room filled with computer moniters of the city. Milton placed Ronald over a large table that made up half of the room's space.
His expression hardened into a surrendered stare as the screens lit up with fiery lights.
On the screens were hundreds of thousands of them. All of them, running into nearby local deserted pubs, libraries, banks, shopping cores, and governmental institutions. The only places that hadn't been explored were the barricaded and sealed locations.
Screen 004712, at the bottom of the security display of the screens, shown a brightly lit room, with plenty of survivors on the inside, with plenty of supplies and emergency escape shuttles.
There came rustling from the outside of the torn room. They were everywhere. You could just look into their leering slits and hollowed out holes. Their openings in their deformed appearance, somewhat like mouths and jaws that carried hundreds of deformed teeth and marrow.
Milton pulled a fragmentation bomb, one of the few he had found in Ronald's coat sleeeve pocket, and ignited its circuit fuse. He smashed in the computer moniters to make enough noise to attract their attention.
He let go of the button, which had fully charged the frag, but gave him eight seconds. He hoisted Ronald over his back and exited through an opening left by the mutated civilians in the Sprawl as they were attracted to the loud noise.
More of them were trailing the vibrations that hid footsteps were making as they echoed into the underground tunnel that continued to spiral downward.
Milton took another fragmentation bomb, ignited it, and held it long enough to activate an explosion radius of half a kilometer. He set it to fifty seconds and dropped it behind the last footstep he plated before sliding down a cleared vent.
As they clanked down the metal shaft, Milton could hear a large explosion set earlier from his frag, with thirty more seconds from his most recent one.
There were creaks and groans from the outisde of the tunnel as the mutated ones were commiting genocide while trying to murder the lost survivors who were still alive. Miltons had a clean, deepened cut from his elbow, a infected infant was crunching down on his left arm. Milton heightened the infected baby above his head with his right arm, and slammed it against the tunnel's edge, crushing it from the friction as they were sliding down it at around thiry kilometers per second.
there was a slight elevation in the sounds that they were making. But then, there was a long silence. Every thing became quiet. Then, there was a large rumble. The fifty seconds had passed.
Up ahead of the tunnel was a damaged lever that was to the right of Milton. He clamped Roanld's hand with his own, and both hands had gripped the lever.
A few scraps of debris lumbered right past them, falling into a large pit of used electronics and sewage piled with the carrion of dead bodies.
There was a second path that funneled upwards in the direction of the lever.
Milton punched away the wall in anger, Rusted and moist, and began to peel away, widening the path that came from the lever's direction.
Milton crawled through the narrow strip, taking Roanlds in behind him.
Milton's hand that had been almost ripped apart from before still had a tentacle latched onto it. He dispatched the dismembered limb by stomping it in the ground until it was just a bloody paste.
A loud and ear piercing bellow sounded off into the pathway.
Toddlers, at least from the ages of six years to nine years surrounded the front flank of Milton and Ronald, but they were crushed when a larger monstrosity corroded through the only way to the next opening.
It was a huge body of a mix between a amn and a woman, but it appeared to be speared through by a large tentacle that ran into a heart-like organ with many eyes mad of spines and inards.
The speared alien-like being roared violently, coughing up remains and tools from its breath.
Milton grabbed a tool that had flown from its mouth, a slimy, slightly damaged Hydrogen Torch. On its label, it read PFM-100 Hydrogen Torch. Another improvised weapon flew from its mouth when it moaned a large cough the second time, lunging at Milton.
He acted quickly, pushed his matted hair from over his forehead, and disassembled the torch. He threw it at a limb with at least ten of the infected attached to it, the creatures tongue. He raised an Arc Welder and blasted a condensed surge of electricity into the bowels of the beast, settign the torch's fuel canister on fire, spreading the explosion throughout the creature's body.
Milton lost his hold onto the tunnel, and fell away with the massive creature as they sunk into the darkness. He and Ronald were given a soft landing when they hit ground, with Milton only sustaining a cracked rib, and a shattered tendon in his hand.
Ronald fell shortly afterwards, landing on Milton. Milton leaned back and placed a hand over his mouth to drown out the screaming from his pain. There stood a large pod cast projector, it casted a light onto them.
Milton placed the Arc Welder in the side of his pants before frantically looking around at the projected light.
It read INDUSTRIAL SHOPPING FLOOR B8
Rocks and other small objects that lined the ceilings began to fall as a loud noise ran through the room.
On the inside of the barricades that had lasted throughout the catastrophe, were live civilians. They were safe, some with enough to live a few months, and some with only enough to survive a week or two.
There they were. Longing abroad the streets. Writhing decadence wherever they went, and laying waste to all variants of life.
Milton lifted himself from the rubble. He cleaned his hands on his pants, leaving dark, black smudges on them.
Then it happened. One of them had found where they were hidden. It seemed like it didn't need its eyes. It was eerily demonic in nature, its dead and jaring face presented a caustic
appearance to Milton as he attempted to stand still, promising to himself that it could not see him.
It walked on all fours, and had long, spindly fingerish limbs that
stretched out like spiders as it walked past Milton and Ronald.
The treading of the demonic creature had stirred Ronald's unconsciousness. At first he yawned, raising the alarm, and kiked out with his feet.
The creature turned its unrecognizable face upwards, seeing by the smell of their fear.
Ronald had kicked a loose bolt that had fallen from from a window above, convincing the hideously morphed creature to leave.
He sooned realized that he wasn't dreaming and yelled aloud. Milton hurried to cover his mouth.
"What for, we're done for anyway!"
Ronald pulled out a Divet Autopistol that had been stowed away under his shirt by a necklace. He pressed the nose of the assault weapon to his temple, preparing to pull the trigger.
He was about to pull the trigger when Milton ran into the way, pusing him against a wall, a humanoid infected soon followed.
It possesed immense strength as it took four to five punches to the face by Milton before he was cut across the back and lying on his side.
Ronald turned around. He was facing a crowd of death as they ran at his direction.
He reached for his frag bombs, but somehow, they were missing. He fired a few shot from his pistol. Smothering them in shrapnel from the bullets.
Milton was already back on his feet when they came back to life as well.
Milton charged at the group of enemies, firing electric bolts
from his arc welder. The shocks and sattic of the electrcicty arched off each of them, and then back to eachother, tearing them apart.
Milton was the victor, but his success faded when he turned his weapon at Ronald. They could not lock eyes, as Ronald wasn't thinking the same as Milton.
"What the damn were you thinking. Are you trying to get us killed?"
Ronald didn't return his share of a comment, but instead, he thankfully followed Milton as he lead them onto an elevating
They both stepped on the platform, and it rose upwards until it reached the top floor of the market core.
The top floor had a sign posted near the door of the elevating lift.
NEW LUNAR SHOPPING FLOOR 1A
It was hard to see, because stamped across it in red ink was a message that read: EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY
The stamped message hosted the boihazard symbol across the top of it.
Both of them stepped out of the caged flooring of the lift and into the quietness of the unpopulated market.
There was nobody. Not anyone. Not even a single person infected. No one.
Milton left Ronald's side to explore what had happened to this place, the place that he used to know.
He stopped shortly. Looking into the light that was still shining between the bars of a locked down window. Milton thought to himself.
Looks like there must have been a quarantine.
On the outside, it was bright and the stars that would light the Sprawl during the day were present, twining their golden and sepia light, reminding Milton of the sun back on Mars IV, a film based on an artificial moon built alongside Mars during the massive colonizations.
He stopped himself before fading away when he pressed his hand on his back were one of the infected had injured him earlier. Dark, dry blood began mixing with sweat and drained down his back, staining his clothes from a yellowish tint, to a more bruised red color.
Ronald had finally found Milton, standing in the light, bleeding out.
He leaned forward and sat on his knees.
He wanted to imagine that everyone was still alive, but he had to face reality. He left Milton and began to scrounge around nearby shops for medical supplies. He could only use one hand, because his other arm had almost been eviscerated before he was rendered unconscious by a blow to the head.
The corners were filled with incapacity. There was only the echo of winding air conditioners that kept Ronald searching. He was beginning to develop paranoia amongst everything that moved. But, there wasn't anyelse alive at the moment, this only made him think even crazier.
Milton had also started a new course, leaving a trail of blood behind him. It must have been at least 60 ounces of blood before Milton's mouth grew dry and stiff. The air he was breathing began to force through his throat, evoking the feeling of swallowing needles. His bleeding stopped when he sped up his breathing. His heart acted involuntarily pushing Milton faster and faster. Milton rushed on his stomach, pulling himself with his hands.
He gave himself a push with his feet and grabbed what had been laying in front of him. A medical kit and a cellular comm. unit.
He tried his best to yell out at Milton, but he lost his breath everytime. He sat there, slumping over on the ground. To weak to talk into the comm. unit.
He grew hot, Milton felt he was running a fever. He lost his sight, and then hearing. His hand, reaching for the med kit. His vision returned to sharp, but discolored sight; he picked the med kit and smashed it on the floor, breaking the container open. the medical supplies was shattered and useless now that he had destroyed his last hope.
His face dampened with a mixture of dirt and oil that had been spilled along the floors.
Milton's lips met with the floor, and he cupped his hands, aggressively drinking medical fluids that were pouring across the concrete pavement. He shoved his hand frantically in his coat, and left his last fragmentation grenade on the floor beside him. He started to twitch rapidly. His limbs began to cramp. He didn't know if the virus was spread through contact or death before his mind spaded into the last thoughts. Memories of his life that had survived for over eighteen years.
A bloody and healed Milton jerked into a seizure that opened up his eyes again.
He couldn't see anything because the lighting was dimmer, and the lights would not cease to continue flickering.
Flashing in front of him were two women, armed with mining tools and what he could of inferred as supplies that were inside the bags starpped to their backs.
Another silouhette flashed before him. It was somewhat like that of a bat, but with the stench and odor of piss. It had a blood-marked, putrid coating that colored its skin.
It flapped pieces of dried skin that resembled its wings. The wings had began to daze Milton when they started to batter his head. It locked on his chest with a distended tongue, and raised a stemmed syringe that appeared to make up its mouth. Milton could not take anymore.
It aimed for his head, but Milton turned sharply to the right, and stabbed him in the thigh. He grabbed its tongue and broke it off with a twist of his wrist.
The creature gave up and died beside him. He could see the female figures placing a canvas sheet over his face, there were others in the background, fighting more of the sickly transformed. They swarmed through the armored glass and easily outnumbered them.