SMOKE

"This is the one! Come on, help me pry it open!" said Connor. "The rest, bring something to burn! If it's burnable and not glued to the floor, bring it here! And don't make unnecessary noise!"

Claire watched as he deployed what seemed to be the last of his white gas canisters, and then searched for something to wedge into the elevator doors. If her mental image of the hospital's layout was correct, that was the same elevator shaft they had used to move up and down the building. Two men stayed to help Connor with the doors, while the other three volunteers wandered off into nearby hallways.

'Okay…! Let's get to work!'

The echo of her footsteps was her only company as she ventured down those corridors. She wondered at what point had she overcome her fears. At any given moment, she could turn a corner and run directly into a crowd of wandering shamblers, which now occupied several areas of the current floor, mainly around the stairwells. Still, she was somehow willing to face the danger by herself.

The image of Nora and Lilian embracing each other came to her mind. They both smiled. Surrounded by conflict and unrest, it was an image of peace. A moment of respite after years of abuse and torment.

'I won't sit back and watch you struggle. I refuse. Nora, you made me realize something. I've lost my family, my friends, everyone… But thanks to you, I think I can move on. You've filled that void, even if only a little. I don't care if I have to put myself in danger anymore. You made it this far, and I'll make sure you make it even farther!'

She reached the patient room wing, a long hallway full of doors. After taking a quick peek into some of them, she spotted at last something that caught her attention. One of the rooms was full to the brim with boxes, torn mattresses, and random junk. Among all the trash, there was a laundry cart loaded with very dirty bed sheets.

"Ah! This should do nicely!"

She kicked the rubbish out of the cart's way and pulled it out of the room. The wheels, rusty and stuck in place after being still for so long, dragged themselves along the floor making a grating noise until they finally began spinning.

After backtracking her steps, Claire saw the elevator doors wide open. She pushed the laundry cart towards the opening, where a man was using a lighter to set a pile of clothes on fire, before kicking them down into the depths.

"I brought something!" she said.

"Oooh, nice one, lady!! Leave it here, go look for more!" said the man as soon as he saw her haul.

Connor came running around a corner, carrying a hefty tower of documents and folders, which he immediately dropped into the shaft.

"Someone needs to go gather some wood! Any wooden furniture will work! We need the fire to last long enough!" he ordered.

"Wouldn't plastic be convenient too!?" said Claire. "It should produce lots of fumes…!"

"Right! Plastic is lighter than wood, can you handle it, lady!?"

"Y-Yes, sir!"

Before turning around and leaving in search of more materials, Claire noticed a faint orange light creeping up from the bottom of the hole.

'Come on, come on…! Looking good!'

For the next couple of minutes, she did nothing but run back and forth. Office chairs. Trash cans. Bags of gloves, syringes, and other medical supplies she found in a cabinet. An unopened box of face masks. A stretcher she had to drag across the floor. Thankfully, hospitals had plenty of plastics lying around.

With every trip she made, an increasing sensation of heat emanated from the elevator shaft, carrying the pungent smell of smoke with it.

"H-Help…!!" a man stumbled out of a hallway, with a look of fear on his face.

A group of shamblers emerged from the corridor after him.

"Watch out!" said Connor as he raised his pistol and opened fire on them.

He looked at the floor, at the gas canister. It was no longer emitting that thin, white mist.

"Damn it, we can't stay here any longer! What's done is done! Everyone, we're going back to the exit!" another crowd of shamblers poured into the hallway. "This side is blocked! Go for the other one!" as he directed the survivors, he grabbed his radio. "Captain Isaac! This is Connor! We've ignited the fire, but we've encountered stingers in the inner hallways! We're going back! Over!"

One of the men broke out running in the opposite direction and disappeared behind a corner.

"N-No!! No no no stay ba— Aaaaahh!!!"

Claire saw his body falling backwards into the hallway again, buried under more shamblers.

"You, you have a weapon!! Shoot!!" said Connor, talking to another of the survivors, who carried a rifle. "We can't let them corner us!!!"

They both began unloading their weapons on the incoming wave of shamblers. Bodies hit the floor, magazines were emptied, with no extra ammunition to be had; yet not enough damage was done. Despite their efforts, the wall of zombies drew itself closer with every breath they took.

"Use fire!!" yelled Claire.

'There's not enough smoke in the air yet, b-but maybe direct contact with fire…!!'

A flaming sheet was thrown over the first row of shamblers. They swung their arms and screeched, visibly freaked out under the burning cloth. However, the others behind them didn't seem to care. The horde didn't stop pushing forward, following the sweet scent of human prey.

"What do we do now!!?"

"Aaaah, this is it!! We're dead!!!"

"Everyone, s-stay calm!! Keep lighting them on fire!!" said Connor.

The soldier attempted to keep the situation under control, but even he himself was now showing signs of panic. One of the men let out a horrified scream and went for the elevator, grabbing onto the ladder and beginning to climb up. Upon seeing this, all the others abandoned everything and bunched up on the elevator as well.

Claire wasn't even aware of when she joined them. Her mind was lagging behind, letting her survival instincts take over her body. She thought she heard Connor still attempting to lead everyone to safety in an orderly manner, but the rest of the screams were way more notorious.

"Get out of the way!!"

"I got here first, fuck off!!!"

"H-Hey…! Stop…!!" said Claire, struggling to not get pushed down into the pit.

A man occupied the ladder in front of her. Another one was midway through to the upper floor, but he wasn't climbing any further. He seemed to groan in pain. The man below him grabbed his pants and yanked on him, fuming.

"Fucking move!! I'll pull you down!!!"

"S-Shut up!! I… can't…!! It burns!!!"

"I don't give a crap!!!"

The two began scuffling, irrationally exchanging kicks and punches on the ladder.

"Stop fighting, you two…! Just go up!!" yelled Claire. "What are you—!?" with a loud bang, the entire upper segment of the ladder got dislodged, and leaned towards the other side, carrying one of the men with it. "Oh my god!!"

When the ladder segment made contact with the opposite wall of the shaft, it shook wildly and got wedged in place, causing the man to lose his grip and fall, howling, into the fiery depths. The other man stopped for a full second before changing directions, descending instead of ascending.

Claire got shoved towards the shaft.

"Move, come on, move, move!!!" screamed a voice behind her.

"S-Stop…!! Aaaah!!!"

She leaped inside and grabbed the ladder. Almost immediately, she understood why climbing up was an impossibility. It was the heat. Unbearable, suffocating, searing heat accumulating at the top of that chimney.

She looked down. At the bottom of the shaft, a fiery inferno had formed. Fueled by the giant pile of clothing, wood, plastic and paper, the mound of flames burned with terrifying ferocity, sending streams of ash and smoke upwards like a geyser. Claire held her breath and hugged the wall as much as possible, in a futile attempt to escape the heat. There was a stinging sensation building up on her hands, in painful contact with the metal ladder, whose temperature was quickly rising.

'Don't think. Just do it. Don't think. Go down. You're going to die. Come on, Claire, go down. Go down!'

Her body moved on its own, following the man below her. As soon as he was about to jump to the safety of the fifth floor, a set of arms emerged from the hallway, pulling him inside. His screams resonated up and down the shaft.

"Why did you stop!!? Keep going!!" the individual above her stepped on her hands.

"Ow!! B-But…!!!"

From above, more blood-curdling screams were heard, followed by several shamblers plunging into the void, flailing their arms and legs. One of them managed to grab the man, dragging him down towards the flames below.

What would happen if another one came down? Would it grab her too? Would she also end up falling to her death? Would she be lucky enough to hit something hard on her fall, killing her instantly? Would one of those things manage to bite her? Would she burn to death, agonizing until the very end?

'I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm so dead. This was a mistake. I don't mind putting myself in danger? No, no, no, no…! I do mind! I was wrong! I don't want to die!'

The nauseating smell of burnt flesh filled her nostrils. She noticed her hands felt sticky, it was becoming harder and harder to hold the ladder rungs. Her lungs were running out of air, and taking another breath felt like a death sentence.

She kept climbing down. Maybe the fourth floor was safe? Anything lower would be impossible to reach, she'd cook to death. She got closer to the fifth floor's opening.

'Please, don't grab me… Please, don't grab me… You're still eating that guy, right!? Please, tell me you are! Oh, god… please!'

Above her, another pile of shamblers got squeezed into the shaft. She saw their faces, their dead eyes scanning her position, their chattering teeth craving her flesh.

'No…!'

Something grabbed her arm. It didn't come from above, but from the opening by her side. Time froze for an instant, and she could swear she felt her heart stop.

Claire was pulled into the darkness just in time to avoid getting swept down to her death by the shambler rain. Whatever it was that grabbed her, it dragged her over several bodies before forcing her down to the floor. She was covered by something big and light, sinking her vision into complete blackness. A blanket? She perceived a strange smell in the air, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"If you want to live, don't make a single noise. They're coming." whispered someone by her side.

'I'm… alive…? What happened? Who is this? Who's here with me?'

The body beside her wasn't a shambler, its human warmth was unmistakable. Acting on impulse, she cuddled the stranger. She didn't care who they were. Her hands still burned. Her entire skin still felt sore from heat exposure. Her respiration was rapid and irregular. She kept her voice down, but she couldn't control the tears running down her face. Tears of fear, pain, and relief.

Despite the fire's crackle, Claire heard footsteps. There were many of them, dragging their feet, walking in unpredictable patterns. They tripped on the bodies lying on the floor and bumped against the walls. She felt their feet touching her back. She heard their chilling wails.

Covering her mouth and nose with her hands, she closed her eyes and prayed.

******

William opened fire and took out the small group of shamblers ahead, whose hands were mere centimeters away from Desmond. Had he chosen not to shoot, he got the feeling Desmond might have simply attempted to ram through them.

"Desmond, wait!! Listen to me!!" he said.

Ignoring him, Desmond ran upstairs, tripping and dropping to his knees as soon as he reached the landing. He pulled himself up and headed for the top floor. For a brief moment, William got a glimpse of his face. It was nothing like the Desmond he knew. Bulging wide-open eyes, his teeth biting deep into his lower lip, sweat covering every inch of skin… He looked demented, mad with anxiety and distress.

'Is this idiot even thinking at all!?'

The barricade blocking the stairs down was in pieces, and sinister noises announced the imminent arrival of more shamblers, attracted by his gunshots.

He could leave. He could forget about Desmond and his daughter, and go back with the others. He could avoid putting himself in danger like a damn fool. And yet, he ran upstairs. Was it because it was the "right" thing to do? When did he start caring about that bullshit again? As ironical as it was, he understood Desmond's actions better than his own.

'What the hell am I doing…!?'

Desmond disappeared into the door at the top of the stairs. William noted how it was already open beforehand.

"Stop rushing ahead!" he ran to the doorframe and took a peek inside. "Desmond, for fuck's sake!!"

"A-Alice!? Honey!!? Eleanor, sweetie, a-are you here!?" William heard Desmond's voice further into the darkness, along with his frantic footsteps.

His loudness wouldn't have bothered him that much if it weren't for the other voice. Low, raspy, and sorrowful, somewhere amidst the machinery. Inhuman.

'Don't tell me…! There's a shambler in here!'

He pulled out a flashlight and ran deeper into the shadows, with his weapon ready.

"Desmond!! Desmond!!!" he called out.

Desmond continued shouting his wife and daughter's names. William followed the voice as best as he could, but the echoes made it almost impossible to either understand or pinpoint the sound. Suddenly, Desmond's calls became screams.

"Hey!! Desmond, what's going on!!? Answer me!!"

How could he have run so far ahead so quickly? He turned corners around the machines and jumped over pipes, fearing the worst. Desmond's screams made it seem like he was fighting something.

He turned one last corner, and finally spotted him.

Desmond dropped a bloody metal pipe. Laying on the floor by his side, William saw the body of a shambler. He approached him, with cold sweat dripping from his forehead.

"Desmond…!"

Ignoring him, Desmond kneeled down and gestured to something tucked underneath the machinery, as if trying to welcome it into his arms.

"H-Here, sweetie…! It's me, it's d-daddy! Come…!" he said.

As William got closer, he saw the terrible state he was in. Scratches, cuts, one nasty bite on his right arm, and an even nastier one close to his neck, bleeding abundantly.

'Bloody hell.'

Something crawled from beyond the shadows and stopped in front of Desmond. The girl was difficult to identify as such. Skinny and dirty from head to toe, her facial expression was locked in a bizarre grimace of incredulity, yet somehow lacked emotion altogether. Desmond caressed her messy hair and gave her a shaky hug, sobbing bitterly.

"Daddy's here, daddy's here… I-It's okay, sweetie… It's okay…" not letting her go for an instant, he looked at William's feet. He seemed afraid to make eye contact with him. "W-Will… I… I don't know… I'm sorry, I-I… Aaaah…"

'I don't think he's even aware of what's going on…'

"Listen, Desmond, you—"

"Aaah, my head hurts, Will… I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry… Y-You… I… Ah… Eleanor, sweetie… I love you… We'll be okay… Daddy is gonna get you out… O-Out…? Out… A-Alice… Honey, where…? W-Who…? Aaah…"

"Desmond…!?"

His body went limp. With his arms still holding the girl in a tight hug, his entire body weight fell on top of her. She fell backwards, buried under the body of her father. William rushed to their side and shook him.

"Hey…! Hey!! Can you hear me!?"

*Gurgle* *Gurgle*

Desmond's body was ravaged by spasms. Muscle was torn, bone was twisted and snapped, skin became an effervescent blanket of virulence. He sat upright for a moment, howling to the skies, his body revivified by the blue glow of undeath.

"Crap! Desmond! Stop it!! Don't lose your shit!! Damn it, not now!! Desmond!!!" William screamed at the thing Desmond had become, trying to push him away from the girl, aware of the futility of such efforts. The shambler exposed his teeth and dropped down, yearning for the fresh blood of his own offspring. "Jesus Christ—!!!"

*Bang!!*

The girl didn't blink even once. She didn't look at the body of her deceased father lying by her side, nor the weapon that killed him, nor the man that wielded said weapon. She didn't say anything. She didn't cry. She didn't do anything but stare at the ceiling.

'Shit… You're kidding… You've got to be kidding… Just like that…? And right in front of…'

William felt nausea crawling up from his stomach. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. A second later he coughed violently, gasping for fresh air. He hadn't noticed it before, but the entire top floor reeked of smoke.

'Right, Claire had suggested making a fire to fill the place with smoke…! Is it coming from the elevator shaft?'

It would soon be impossible to breathe in that enclosed place. As harsh as it might have been, it wasn't the moment to ponder about what he had done.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to bear with me for now…!" he said, crouching down to grab the girl.

She didn't respond. With no resistance from her, William lifted her and sprinted off, carrying her in his arms.

After backtracking his steps, he saw something outlined in front of the exit. A fragile-looking humanoid, drifting from side to side, like a dog sniffing the scents floating in the air. William placed the girl down on the floor and charged the entity. With a mighty kick to the chest, the shambler went rolling through the door and down the stairs.

'Is it only one!?'

He approached the stairs and looked down. To his horror, the entire stairwell was infested with more shamblers, slowly but relentlessly dragging themselves up, following the trail he and Desmond had left behind.

"Shit!!"

Shooting would be useless. He didn't have enough ammunition to kill all of them, even if he was somehow lucky enough to not miss a single shot. He went back inside and slammed the door. Looking around with the flashlight, he spotted a small tool cabinet. Not big enough to cover the entire door, but enough to be wedged under the doorknob.

While pushing it in place, he considered his options. That floor had no other exits. No windows, no escape routes, nothing. Could he perhaps get out through the elevator shaft? Judging by the increasing amount of smoke polluting the air, the shaft was probably a building-sized oven by that point. He wasn't too eager to roast himself to death.

Many blows shook the door. His only choice was to fight. He prepared the rifle, aimed at the door, and clenched his teeth.

'Come on…! Come on, bring it on…!'

*Cough* *Cough*

The smoke thickened by the second.

The cabinet blocking the door began rattling and sliding across the floor. The door creaked open, and countless arms slithered inside. A slit of light penetrated the darkness from the outside, blurred and obscured by the smoke.

His trigger finger was ready.

But no shambler dared come inside. Instead, the arms retreated. He heard the sound of shattering glass, and the choir of gurgles slowly becoming more and more distant.

"Huh…?"

Cautious, he waited several seconds. However, the lack of fresh air was already giving him headaches and clouding his thinking. Struggling to contain a new coughing fit, he picked the girl back up and sprinted towards the exit.

As soon as he got to the door, he saw there were no shamblers outside. After kicking the cabinet out of the way with great effort, he slipped into the stairwell. The window on the landing was broken from the inside out, as if something had forced itself out through the glass. The shattered edges were painted red with blood and gory remains.

'Did they… jump out!? Is it because of the smoke!? Holy shit, it actually works!?'

He'd have to remember to give Claire a pat on the back when he saw her again.

He ran downstairs, headed for the exit.