Snippet #2381218

Mariam scrunched her face in a gesture of shared pain when Derek relocated Claire's shoulder. She had no time to reflect on what had just happened. As had become usual over the course of the last few hours, they were being pursued by the living dead. Inside the building, one of the things shrieked again. She scrunched up her face again. Hands weren't enough protection against that blood-curling sound.

They had to get down, right.

The fire escape, right.

With one last glance at the door they'd just come out from, Mariam followed the others as they made their way to the steel stairs. They were about four stories high. The scientist swallowed with apprehension, hoping that the door would hold the undead inside long enough for the group to get down. She flew down the first set of stairs. All of a sudden, the cyclic nature of the fire escape seemed too long, somehow undoable. Despite the adrenaline pumping through her system, Mim was tired, there was no denying it. She ran down the second set of stairs. She wasn't as young as she used to be. Derek seemed the only one close to her age yet he was clearly in shape, what with bending steel up there in the roof. She pulled through the last set of stairs. It was like she'd forgotten what the ground was up close.

At least Derek was right. The noise within the building had apparently prompted the shamblers in the street to go into their building. The street looked deserted yet even three floors down Mariam could still hear the sound of the zombies banging on the roof's door. A few were banging on the windows directly next to the fire escape, through which their group had passed on their way down but without too much force. Perhaps, Mim hypothesized, the lack of resolve of those shamblers was due to the lack of olfactory stimuli the group had provided. They'd seen them pass alright, but they hadn't caught their scent, which would've been a major stimulus. Still, glass was definitely more fragile than a steel door.

"I think the street is clear. As clear as it'll get, anyway," she panted. The group took the sliding ladder down to the ground level, an accomplishment Mariam had found a lot harder than she'd care to admit. The ladder slid back up to the first floor with a resounding creaaakk. Of course. It hadn't been oiled in at least three months, perhaps more if the appearance of the building was any indication.

Mim's head felt hot, she could feel heat radiating from her exposed face. Okay. They were bound for 72nd street. What way was that again? "Wait. Uhm." She paused to regain her breath, "That car wasn't there before we went into the building, was it?" Hopefully the strenous amount of exercise she'd done in the last couple of hours wasn't playing tricks with her mind.