Run. Just run.
That was all Liz could think about with a single runner close behind her. Close enough that it could grab her if it only knew how to lunge. She didn't want to die like this, or worse, become like one of them. No, she refused to become one. She could see the intersection before her, maybe ten yards away.
She had a sliver of hope give her another chance to push on, giving her renewed energy to continue running, but when will this boost end, she did not know. Within seconds, with the runner a few feet still behind her, she had reached the intersection and made a sharp left turn, hoping to slow down the beast at least. But it was to no avail.
Police cruisers littered the street, forming failed makeshift barricades. She had reached the police station, however, she had also spotted a man in black, hood covering his face, handgun in hand, slinking towards the building. As she ran further towards him, that one runner determined to get its next meal out of her, the man stopped and spotted her.
He raised his gun and started to fire at her. A total of four shots rang out, but she didn't know if the man was firing at her or where those rounds ended up at. She ran faster, past the man, and tried to jump over a corpse, but tripped over it instead.
She had no weapon to defend herself, especially against some gunman. As she tripped, she threw out her left arm, bracing her fall as well as keeping her up enough not to go completely face first into the pavement. As her hand scraped across the concrete, she bounced forward, her momentum allowing her to keep going. And thus, she kept running.
And running.
And running.
~~~~~~~~
Izual was treading carefully across the road to the police station, cautiously watching his surroundings in case anything comes his way. P228 in hand, it had reminded him of his times at the "firing range" at CyberTech Corp.
There, he had been introduced to Captain Arguil, head of the Security Service's "Alpha Team", a five-man SWAT team, with an impressive 100% success rate in their operations. Whether it was retrieval of people of special interests, destruction of prior CyberTech property, escorting VIPs like himself and the like, these guys were hands down the best. It was rumored that each one was former Special Forces, brought in from Delta Force, SEALs, Rangers. It showed in their training, in their absolute precision of getting the job done, to the absolute lettering, down to the crossing of T's and the dotting of I's. To have an opportunity to see them at the range was a sight to behold.
Each one, perfect marks on their firing, and they were each trying to be better than the others.
He wondered if they're in New York, waiting to get him off the ground and out of the country. The thought gave him hope, hope to survive this hellish nightmare.
But then something caught his eye. No, not something, someone. And they were running fast towards him, with a runner right behind them.
She was young, perhaps teen years, give or take a couple years. White and brown waiter's uniform, he had easily recognized it. This person had worked at the diner that he loved to eat at. FRANK'S, or something like that, he couldn't think of the name right now. Right now there's a girl running towards him and she's in danger.
"You, stop!"
He yelled, but it seemed that the runner was too busy at getting its next meal.
"Get on the ground!"
Again, they didn't respond to what he said, too busy running, as if it was some chase scene from Tom and Jerry. He raised his pistol, and aimed down the iron sights.
Blam.
He missed, and fired again, this time three shots rang out, the last two hitting on course.
One round hit the creature squarely in the left shoulder, moving back a bit, the impact was obvious, but the runner was still moving quickly after her. The second round to hit dropped the runner, hitting in the center of the eyes, the right side of the back of the head blew out, brains sprawling from the round traveling through its target, exiting and continuing to travel in the direction he fired.
But she kept running, obviously thinking that he was firing at her. Past the police cruiser, tripping and recovering from her fall. Out of sight.
"Well, you're welcome, you ungrateful bitch!"
Izual took a glance at his watch. 18:00. Sun should be going down soon. With a less-than-full mag in his pistol, he began walking towards the station again.
As he stood in front of the station, he could imagine that this might make a decent shelter for the night, and to see if anybody had some answers to his questions.