======Zombie Gun 3======

You, Naomi, Raindrop, Strangeness-in-the-Air, and Juno. It's an odd group, but not a bad one. Your gun rests heavy in your arms. You hope you won't have to use it.

You tell the others how to keep themselves safe and quiet: you scold Naomi for the noisy clink of syringes in her pockets. She reminds you all '//just how dangerous it would be if there was a zombie in our midst//.' You grit your teeth. Now isn't the time to argue, you think, just barely stopping yourself.

The sweep of the substation is quick and, as far as you can tell, useless, beyond the main door being unlocked (Naomi babbles that it must mean that Lottie has escaped. Juno reminds her that the infirmary itself has its own lock). You hear bumping and crashing from one corner of the structure, but it's just The Relic Seeker; you leave him to his tinkering. Every clear corridor and unbroken window should reassure you, but despite every effort, you can't avoid the growing feeling that you're trapping a fish in a very small, very fatal barrel. You start to worry that that might be the point.

Eventually, you reach the infirmary door. Creaking and quiet tears writhe their way under the door frame and through the rusted lock. Raindrop moves to open the door, and you're certain that you can't let that happen; that that's exactly how you'll end up with another dead zombie, a waste.

Luckily, Strangeness catches Raindrop's eye. A tense look is exchanged between them, but in the softening of Strangeness' face, you relax. The storyteller takes a step forward, slipping through the door just after Naomi hands her a small gun that you're sure won't be used, and you lean forward, straining to hear the conversation behind closed doors.

The words shared by the two women are unclear and muffled behind the thick iron border, but you catch whispers and contours that tell you no one is in danger. From Strangeness: '//I don't think you're the monster…//'; from Lottie: '//I'm so tired…//'; from one of the two—you're not sure which: '//I'm not afraid.//.'

You catch yourself clicking the safety of your gun on and off. You're not preparing to shoot, you //think:// your hands just need to find somewhere to occupy themselves. You catch a glaring side-eye from Raindrop. You think that Naomi's anxious snivelling from the back of the group is far more irritating, but to each their own.

Suddenly, heralded by neither gunshot nor fight, the door creaks open. Raindrop shifts into position, ready to shoot. You freeze -- you want to do something, to stop her, but Naomi beats you to the punch trying to pull Raindrop's gun down, and the butt of the rifle is wrenched from the medic's hand and the muzzle is aimed directly at the gap between door and wall, steadily widening.

You're certain that this is murder. You're sure of it.

So why don't you stop her?

Why do you stand and watch as bullet mangles flesh and blood sprays across the linoleum floor, red scar across yellow tile?

In the moments before the lights go out, you think of your brother. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to think of Eric's brains across these same tiles. You won't let that happen. You won't--

-- when you open your eyes again, the infirmary has been plunged into unexpected darkness.

{[]}{{tag>writeup2 gm_yona complete}}