Rachel - Interactive Story - scene 8

continued from scene 7

Keeping the pistol firmly pressed against the back of Briggs' head, Rachel starts leading him backward, putting distance between them and the other soldiers. Their focus is divided between the new zombie threat and the standoff unfolding before them.

As they round the corner of the building, briefly out of sight, Briggs tenses. "You won't get away with this," he says with a growl. "You'll be locked up for assaulting an officer. I make sure that you never see the light of—"

in one quick motion, she pistol-whips Briggs at the base of his skull. He crumples to the ground with a strangled grunt.

Rachel doesn't break stride, her grip tightening on the pistol as she scans their new surroundings. An alley stretches ahead, and a dumpster provides potential cover. Wasting no time, Rachel drags the unconscious sergeant behind the dumpster, ensuring he's out of immediate danger before she takes off at a brisk pace toward her home.

I can't believe this is happening. I shouldn't be out here messing around with children playing as soldiers. There are people who need me — people who won't be able to survive on their own.

As her boots pound the pavement, her mind races. Tommy, that poor kid who still lives with his mum - he'll need help getting out of this mess. Then there's Bailey, barely out of uni and already facing the bloody apocalypse in that run-down rental. Rachel shakes her head. And Kelly, that reporter always chasing a story... she'll be a sitting duck if someone doesn't intervene.

Rachel pushes the faces of the young and vulnerable from her mind, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. Getting back to her supplies and formulating a plan to get as many civilians to safety as possible. No more distractions. Every second counts now.

Rachel bursts through the front door of her modest home, not even bothering to ensure it's secured behind her. She heads straight for the duffel bag and backpack she had prepared earlier, quickly slinging them over her shoulders and checking that her weapons are still accounted for - the reassuring weight of the Glock at her hip, the Sig Sauer snug against her ankle.

Now fully equipped, her mind shifts into overdrive. No sense in playing the burrowed mole while all those poor sods are left to fend for themselves against those bloody undead horrors. Tommy is probably still holed up with his mum, clueless as ever. And Bailey, that hapless girl likely hasn't a clue how to handle herself in this mess. Even that nosy Kelly from the news station is bound to be in a right pickle without someone to set her straight. Can't just leave them all to become the next items on the zombie's tasting menu.

Rachel grabs a map from the kitchen counter, spreading it out and tracing possible routes with her finger. The sound of distant gunfire reminds her that there's no time to lose. She has to start rounding up any able-bodied civilians, form a cohesive group, and get them the hell out of Nightfall before the city becomes a literal feeding ground for the undead.

Squaring her shoulders, Rachel double checks her gear one last time. This is it - no more running, no more waiting. It's time to take the fight to the bastard virus threatening to devour us.

"Right then," she mutters, the words carrying more weight than just an offhand remark. "Let's get to work."

continue to scene 9