"I doubt we'll have time to make that happen," he grumbled. Looking up to an approaching soldier, he asked, "How does it look?"
"Not good," the soldier replied. "We're pulling back. You two are going to have to come with us."
"I'm staying with her," Doctor Caswell insisted.
"Not an option, Ma'am," the soldier informed. My orders are to get you and your team to the top floor."
"We can't just leave her," Rachel insisted. Rising from her chair, she stormed around the desk and past the men, and right into Zoe's room.
At the girl's bedside, she grasped her arm, clenching her teeth as she observed, "She's warmer than she was." Turning to the door as Kavorski and the soldier entered, she said, "We have to take her with us, then. We can't just leave her."
Doctor Kavorski approached and took her shoulders. "Rachel, it's over! We have to go! We've obtained all of the information from her we can."
Rachel pulled away and looked back down to the girl. She unbuckled Zoe's wrist and held it with her fingers to look for a pulse, and she clenched her jaw when she did not find what she was looking for.
Gunfire erupted down the hall and they all looked toward the door.
"That's it!" the soldier barked. "We're going. Now! Grab your reports and let's go!"
Looking down to the girl, Rachel gently stroked her hair, then reluctantly turned and strode out of the door.
Escorted by three ZRT soldiers, two armed with M-4's and the third a shotgun, the two doctors hurried along toward the last secure stairwell. Kavorski carried a folder full of papers and a notebook while Doctor Caswell carried a plastic box that was filled with vials of samples taken from Zoe.
They all turned to the corridor on the right, two soldiers in front and one bringing up the rear. Halfway down this corridor was where the elevators were, and the door to the stairwell. With the elevators all in the basement and power to them turned off, the stairs were the only option to get to higher floors.
Nearly to the elevators, the two soldiers in the front stopped, and one raised his fist to signal those behind to do the same.
They could see the elevators, and the door right beside them that was marked as access to the stairwell, and that door opened.
A zombie pushed his way out and stopped, then was pushed forward by another. Another emerged after that one, then another. They were a mix of genders and sizes and races, and they were beginning to fill the hallway ahead. A strangled moan escaped one, a deeper moan escaped another. One of them cried out as if startled. They all moved with jerky motions and many seemed to be having difficulty holding their heads up.
"Slowly back away," one of the soldiers up front ordered.
All five people retreated with steps that were as quiet as they could make them.
One of the zombies looked their way and lowered his head, and his brow, and his lips slid away from yellow stained teeth as a moan escaped him. He started toward them, walking like he was drunk, and this alerted others who turned and saw them, and followed. A louder moan sounded from one of the others and still more turned on the people who backed away from them. More still emerged from the stairwell and turned immediately to pursue the only source of food they could see.
The first soldier reached for his radio and raised it to his mouth, loudly saying into it, "MD escort to central command. Center stairwell is breached. We're taking them to the west stairwell."
"Negative!" the radio answered. "West stairwell has been overrun. Get to the stairs at the south garage. That one appears to be holding, but hurry! They're calling for help from that area already!"
"Roger that," the soldier complied. Looking over his shoulder, he ordered, "South stairs, double time!"
They all turned and ran, and the zombies pursued.
"We don't have enough ammo for a sustained defense!" one of the soldiers barked.
"I know," the first confirmed. "We just need to get…" He stopped.
They all stopped.
More zombies were blocking their path.
Raising his weapon, the first soldier informed, "Looks like we're fighting our way through." He fired in short bursts and two of the dozen zombies ahead of them fell. The other soldier also aimed and fired, and together they slowly advanced in half steps.
The soldier behind them turned and looked behind him, then he raised his weapon and fired into the mob behind them that was closing on them with alarming speed. "We need to go!" he shouted between shots.
With the dozen zombies ahead of them down, they all resumed their flight toward the elevators near the south garage, only to be confronted by a few others. The soldiers in front aimed and engaged them, advancing in those half steps again, but this only gave the mob behind them time to catch up again.
Firing into the mob behind, the soldier bringing up the rear retreated at the same half step pace the others advanced with, and the doctors found themselves caught in the center.
A magazine was emptied and fell to the floor, replaced by another. Someone else emptied and replaced the spent magazine in a couple of seconds.
"We need to get these doctors to safety," the first soldier shouted. "That is our top priority!"
"I'm out!" the soldier behind them declared. He threw his weapon into the mob and reached for his sidearm, aiming carefully and firing with a good eye right into the heads of those zombies that were closest.
"You have to hold!" the first soldier ordered.
When his weapon made an empty click, the soldier behind looked over his shoulder to see the front was almost clear, then he holstered his empty weapon and drew his knife. "Doctor," he yelled over the gunfire. "Can you really cure this epidemic?"
"We're sure we can," Doctor Kavorski assured, hugging the papers to him as he slowly advanced behind the soldiers before him.
"Make sure you do," the soldier behind them ordered. "Make this all worthwhile." With that, he yelled and charged the crowd of zombies behind the group, and he slammed into them with a furious purpose, slashing his knife, punching, kicking, doing as much damage as he could, and he stopped their advance.
In a moment, one of the zombies got a hand on him, then another clutched him, and another. He yelled again as he was drug into the mass of undead horror, and as he continued to fight them, the first of many screams exploded from him as the zombies began their grisly meal, as they began to eat him alive, but many zombies paid dearly for this meal and the whole mob stopped.
This sacrifice bought time for the four survivors who fled toward the southern stairs, and when they had almost arrived they found themselves confronting yet another group of zombies. Both soldiers fired their rifles into the mob of almost twenty zombies, but after a few loud cracks from the muzzles, both weapons made empty clicks. The soldiers dropped them and each reached for his sidearm, and in a second both had their weapons leveled on the dozen that remained. Both automatic pistols belched fire and lead and zombie after zombie dropped.
When the last one fell, the first soldier withdrew his magazine and looked to it, then to his comrade and he informed. "I have four left."
The other soldier did the same, shaking his head as he grumbled, "Five."
"Nine rounds between us," the first said absently.
Moans from ahead drew everyone's attention.
"They've already breached the stairs," the first soldier reported. "Everybody back."