"THEY'RE GONNA BREAK THIS SHIT DOWN!" Richard shouted, his voice edged with nerves.
I kept dragging Joel as we sprinted down the narrow hallway.
There was no time to think—only to keep moving.
A few meters ahead, a metal door.
"PUSH IT!" I ordered.
Mark and Lee grabbed the door and slid it open.
We rushed through and locked it with a heavy bolt.
The thudding of zombies slamming against it followed immediately.
"Will it hold?" Richard asked, trying to catch his breath.
"If it doesn't, we're fucked," Ryan grumbled, shoving the nearest bunk bed to block the entrance. "Fucking Russian bastard, had to fire? Now look at this shit!"
The dormitory was empty, but time was against us.
I looked at Joel—he was sweating cold, his thigh wound bleeding too much.
"Lay his ass down," I ordered, already opening my ammo cartridge.
Joel shot me a hard glare. "Fuck off, I'm fine."
"You're fine my ass," I shot back, pouring gunpowder into the wound without warning.
He punched the floor, jaw clenched. "Son of a bitch!"
"Lee, Mark, hold him down," I continued. "And shove something in his mouth."
"Gladly," Richard chuckled, stuffing a dirty rag into Joel's mouth. "Try not to bite through it, champ."
I struck a match.
The gunpowder ignited.
Joel thrashed, his muffled scream vibrating through the rag.
Lee and Mark held him firm as the stench of burning flesh filled the dorm.
"Done," I said, patting the flames out. "Now quit whining and get up."
Joel panted heavily, eyes burning with rage. "Go fuck yourself, Ghost."
"Later," I replied. "Focus now."
I glanced at the others. Ryan tapped his rifle impatiently. "So, can we move? Or does our tough guy here need some time to cry?"
"Fuck off, Ryan," Joel growled, pushing himself up with effort.
"Both of you, shut the fuck up," Lee cut in, adjusting his rifle. "We move in silence."
I took a deep breath. "We're almost there, gentlemen."
They nodded, refocusing.
The exhaustion was clear on everyone.
Ryan, despite his anger, was sweating like a pig.
Richard panted, leaning against the wall.
Lee kept his composure, but his eyes were sunken.
Mark, as always, remained silent, observing.
"We rest here for two hours. Reload, hydrate, and eat," I ordered, letting out a heavy sigh.
Richard responded while throwing himself onto the floor. "I'm about to make a rookie mistake, but I don't give a fuck."
Before I could ask, he hurriedly unlaced his boots and yanked them off. "These were killing me, Ghost."
I shook my head. "You're gonna regret that."
"I'll regret it later. Right now, I just wanna feel my damn toes again," Richard shot back, massaging his swollen feet.
Lee let out a quiet chuckle. "If the Russians and zombies don't kill us, Richard's rotten feet will."
Ryan scoffed. "Hope they rot off. That way, you won't have to run, and we can leave your ass behind."
"Fuck you, Ryan," Richard muttered, too drained to argue.