Nick looked around at the bloody carnage around him and wished that he'd called in sick that morning.
Taking another puff of a coffin nail he'd filched off a dead officer, rationalizing the act with the thought that he certainly didn't need it anymore, Nick walked around the courtyard. Every few steps was either shell casings, blood or a dead body. It had been a slaughter, both for the zombies, and the humans.
Rick walked up, "You doing okay, Nicky?"
Nick took a final drag, dropped his cig and stamped it out. He blew out the smoke alongside a sigh and ran his fingers through his sweat soaked hair. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just....Jesus, I really hope Andy, Kirk and the others are alright."
Rick patted Nick on the shoulder, and turned towards the Hall, "They'll be fine. Somehow, I doubt those cats die easily. We'll all make it out of here in one piece, you'll see."
Nick turned with him, "You'd better be right." He left the faintly glowing ember of his dying cigarette to slowly roll into a blood pool and wink out.
The two agents started back into the hall. A sergeant waved at them then came down the stairs towards them. He too bore the signs of the recent battle, with several gashes and bruises. Nick looked over at Rick, and saw that his little stunt all that time ago left him with a black eyes, torn and bloody clothes and what looked like a twisted ankle. Feeling pain settle in for the long haul in several (million) places, Nick stifled a groan.
"Well guys, it looks like we beat them. Or at least in Round One." the officer added with a sudden humourless grin.
Nick snorted out a quiet laugh.
"The captain is holding a meeting about getting the hell outta here," the cop started in as the trio walked the empty halls, footsteps echoing throughout the area, "We don't have nearly enough manpower to even hold out against half the zombies we just wasted. A high estimate puts zombie casualties at around 400 or so. We're down to less than a dozen officers, plus you two and the civilians. That only makes nine. The city population at last year's census was over a million. In layman's terms, if we don't bug out of here and let the army take 'em out, we're all fucked." The cop finished his diatribe right as they entered the city council meeting room. Everyone was either leaning on a wall or sitting on the floor, all the furniture had been used as barricades outside, and was now either bloodsoaking, in pieces, or full of bullet holes.
None of those really appealed to Nick and his ass making contact with them.
"Alright folks," the captain began, looking around. All that was left of the force of only hours ago were the two FBI agents, Fred, Emily and Mac (if i forgot you, just write yourself in), the sergeant and two other cops. Nine in total. There maybe more lost somewhere in the Hall or outside among the carnage, but for now, it was just nine people left. All of which were injured in some way. All of which had torn clothes, stained with blood, some of it their's, some not. Exhaustion was evident in their slumped shoulders and droopy eyelids. The feeling of "what's the use" echoed in every heart. Morale was all but gone.
"We're all tired. We have little in the way of food, water and ammo. And yes, there's about a million dead fuckers hell-bent on turning us into them. I know you all are scared, desperate, injured. I am too. I just want to get to someplace safe and have a hot shower and sleep until every last zombie corpse has been burned to ash. But for now, we're stuck here. We'll take a couple hours and barracade ourselves upstairs. So far we've destroyed two staircases, and almost done the last. We found a ladder we can use to get up and down. After we're all upstairs and about as safe as we can get, we'll sleep. I know it sounds crazy to sleep in such a situation, but if we don't sleep sometime, we'll burn out and be killed. Not a fun time. Tomorrow, we'll distribute what we have left and can scrouge up, and then make for the airport. We'll try and find some decent transportation, and then we can all get out of here."
"Finally, I want you all to make a mental list of who's left that you really care about in this city. If we can, we'll mount a rescue tomorrow on our way out. That's all for now, team. I know this is a way that none of you enlisted in, but you are likely the last of the soldiers left in Vanalice City. And I don't intend for our side to lost."
"Now, everyone, let's get upstairs and get some shut-eye, tomorrow's gonna be hell."
And with that, everyone stood up, and made for the second story. Pausing only to finish ripping up the last staircase, which only took half an hour with everyone helping.
Nick staggered into the first room he could find. He collapsed onto a sofa that hadn't been co-signed to the outside barricades. Around him, he could hear the others flop into chairs, couches or just the floor with padding beneath them.
As soon as he closed his eyes, Nick was out like a light, and the Hall grew silent as the rest of the humans followed suit.