When I woke up, my first thought was about how surprised I was that they hadn't killed me. My next one was that my foot really hurt. I opened my eyes to find that I was back in my solitary cell. I wiggled my injured foot, then panic took over. Rearing upright, I pulled my left foot to me to examine the wound. They had cleaned it and dressed it in mounds of gauze. Slowly, I undid the white wrappings to find that when Mac had taken a bite of my foot, he had taken my pinky toe as well. Oh my God, I'm missing a toe. I stared at the red and angry patch where my toe should have been. Somehow this wound was more of a shock than all my others, and I didn't know why.

I hastily rewrapped and tied off the gauze and tried to ignore the fact that I was now missing a body piece. It was shallow to care so much about a toe, but I couldn't shake the shock. I gave my cheek a slap.

"Get a hold of yourself," I said out loud.

My hand went to the waistband of my pants to find the switchblade gone. Right, I had to use it. On Mac. I chewed on my lip to help distract myself from crying. Mac was dead and it hadn't been a quick death either. He had suffered.

"Stop this!" I hissed at myself. This train of thought wouldn't help me get out of here.

I had no idea how long I'd been out for. They had managed to bring my limp form to solitary, clean and dress my foot, and even Carlos's blood had been wiped off of my skin, so it had to have been at least a few hours. The lights were on in the hallway, so it must still be day time.

I swung my legs off the bed and tested out putting weight on my injured left foot. It hurt, but I needed to be able to run. So I got up and tried walking around. As long as I kept the brunt of the weight on the inside of my foot and mostly on the heel, the pain wasn't as bad. Although I looked super gibbled when I did that. I rubbed at my eyes. This was not ideal for an escape because my running speed was now hindered. Shit. I went up to the small window and looked out as much as I could. There was a guard posted to the left of my room. I guess I was now considered a high risk prisoner.

The fluorescent lights flickered above me and out in the hallway. The guard posted at my room shoved himself off the wall and looked around as if he was worried. I didn't think we had ghosts to worry about, but running out of fuel for the generators was a very real threat. He relaxed and leaned back along the wall. I was about to bang on the door when the lights went out fully. The room was close to being pitch black thanks to the fact that there was no window to the outside in here. Emergency lights flickered to life in the hallways.

The guard was now gone. I craned my eyes to try to see further down the hallway. He wasn't there either. He must've taken off and with him, the keys to my cell. What if they abandon the place and leave me in here to rot? I needed to escape, but how? I frantically looked around the room. There was a toilet and sink and cot. That's it. I yanked off the single mattress to get to the sparse metal bed frame. It was simply four metal slats on legs, interconnected to form a rectangle.

I leaned down and examined the corners. It took some arm strength, but I was able to disconnect the one. I stood up with the one end of the slat in hand and pulled until it was free of the other connected corner. This would hopefully work as a lever to wedge open the door. I peeked out the small window to the hallway to see two guards go running by, their forms more like shadows moving in the low emergency lights.

They paid my room no heed. I stuffed the flattest portion of the bed-frame piece into the apex where the door frame and door met and then heaved. The slat slipped out of the apex and fell to the ground, slipping out of my sweaty hands. I let out a huff of air and wiped off my hands on my pants, then tried again. I strained against the slat, trying to leverage the door away from the frame. This was an old hospital. The frame wasn't made of metal or whatever you usually saw in newer hospitals-it was still wood. If all the breaking and entering I had done over the last few months was any indication, this would eventually work; it just needed some elbow-grease.

I set the metal bed-frame piece down to catch my breath from all the exertion. My usual amount of strength was zapped from the lack of calories and stress. This might end up taking a while. Once I got a second wind, I jammed the metal piece as close to where the door lock was as possible. The door creaked as I shoved the rod. The door gave an inch on the frame, but didn't open.

The sound of gunfire stilled my efforts. Holy shit. What was happening? Were the other's using this as their chance for escape? Were there infected? I needed to get out-now! Using my entire body to put pressure on the lever, I heaved. The door flew open and I fell to the floor as the lever had nothing more to brace itself on. I jumped up with the metal piece in hand-it would have to do for a weapon. When no one came rushing to my room, I looked out to see the immediate hallway, empty.

The emergency lights were few and far between, making it hard to see fully. I stayed low and crept down toward the direction of the cafeteria. Another couple of muffled gunshots had me stop and duck. They were coming from somewhere inside the hospital. I kept moving until I hit a crossroads. I peeked around the corner to see a bunch of commotion. It was hard to make out, but it looked like the group of prisoners in the cafeteria had stormed the doors and were fighting off the other guards. Should I try to use them as a distraction and try to escape myself? Or should I try to help them and gain some allies for the escape? My choice was made for me when the skirmish made it further down the corridor, almost reaching me. A couple of pajama-clad prisoners bolted past me. We locked eyes, but they kept running.

One of the guards chased them, then lifted their rifle and shot the escapees dead. Their bodies fell face first to the ground. My mouth flopped open. How could they just mow down the immune people they had collected?

The guard was within my range, but he hadn't seen me hiding around the corner yet. I paused with shallow breathes, waiting for him to reach me. When I saw the tip of his rifle to my right, I waited just a little bit longer for him to take two more steps until his head was in my view. Then I lifted the lever, brandishing it like a spear and jammed it into his neck. It wasn't very sharp, but the force still made the metal pierce his tender neck.

He dropped his assault rifle in shock as we crashed into the opposite wall of the hallway. His hands flew to his neck as I yanked out my make-shift spear and he collapsed on the ground. I avoided the guard's eyes as I grabbed the rifle and slunk back to my vantage point around the corner. The rifle wasn't a model I was familiar with, but it was semi-automatic judging from the way the guard had shot the two immune people.

It was armed, but I didn't want to fiddle with the magazine release to check to see how many bullets were left. I would have to take my chances. I propped the frame piece against the wall and slipped around the corner again to see the unmoving body of the fallen guard. His neck was still leaking blood like a dying pump. I suppose I should feel bad about that, but I couldn't muster any remorse for killing a guy that had shot two unarmed people in the back. Keeping low, I approached the riot. The other guards weren't shooting their guns; instead they were fighting in hand to hand combat against the prisoners. I spotted Leo just as he took a hefty fist to the face. Rose jumped on the offending guard's back and began punching him. The guard spun around to dislodge her and she slid off of him onto the floor.

He raised his own assault rifle like he was about to bash her brains in with it, but I pulled my trigger before he could. The rifle jerked in my arms, but I still managed to hit the back of his right shoulder. The guard crumbled to ground and suddenly all eyes were on me. Shit. The remaining guards wrestled to free their own weapon, but the other prisoners weren't going to let them.

The leader of the tough guy, white-power crew steam-rolled one guard and I winced as I could swear I heard the sound of something snapping. I used the distraction to run to Leo and help him to his feet. Rose had gotten on top of the guard I had shot and was pummeling him with her fists. The guard raised his one good arm to fend her off, but she was still managing to land hits.

I wasn't paying attention as I hurried over to help Rose and almost tripped over something. I looked down to see another dead prisoner. Her neck was twisted at an odd angle with her face turned to stare at the carnage. I grabbed a handful of Rose's shirt and yanked her backward. She fell off of the guard, her fists flying all over the place. It would have been comical in another life. Once she was clear of the guard's body, I aimed the rifle.

"No, don't!" he yelled, trying to sit up. I ignored his protest as I pulled the trigger.

He fell back to the ground, dead, with a bullet hole between his eyes. At this close of range, I wasn't going to miss even if this wasn't the AR-15 I was familiar with. Both Leo and Rose stared at me with their mouths open.

"Still got one more!" a strained voice boomed behind me.

I whirled around to see the big guy struggling with the last guard. I lifted the rifle to shoot, but it clicked empty. The prisoner let out a harsh breath as if saying, "Fine, I'll do this myself I guess." He punched the guard again and again until the guard went slack. I didn't know if he was dead or not, but I didn't care. All that mattered is that he was out for now.

There were only about eight of us left standing. Among the group was the white-power leader, Leo, Rose, George, myself, and three others-two girls and a guy. This was hardly enough people. The tough guy ripped the rifle from the guard he had just punched the shit out of and popped out the magazine.

"It's empty," he growled and tossed the pieces back at the fallen dead and/or unconscious guard.

That explains why they weren't simply shooting everyone. They had no ammo. Rose checked the rifle of the guard I shot and it was the same thing-out of bullets.

"These were practically for show the whole time!" Rose yelled.

"We need to get moving," I said. "Who knows where the rest of them are at."

Rose looked me up and down through narrowed eyes, as if she was seeing a different person. "Didn't think you had it in you." In some weird way, it sounded like I had just earned her respect. Leo however, eyed me warily. "Where's Mac?"

I bit my lip. "Amelia killed him." Leo didn't ask anything more.

I turned to George, and mouthed "map." He reached into his housecoat pocket and produced the book he had scribbled in. We all huddle around him as he flipped it open to the back where his hand-drawn schematics were. The tough-guy saw and us hurried over.

"What're we lookin' at?"

"George drew us a map from memory," I said.

"And how the hell would he know somethin' like that? He's retarded!"

"He's deaf, not stupid, you asshole," I hissed.

The guy shot me a look, but quickly turned back to the map.

"How are we going to get through the locked doors?" Leo asked as he cradled his sore face.

"Pat down the guards," I instructed. We checked the pockets of all the fallen guards, but only one had a set of keys on them-the one that I had skewered with the bed frame piece. Thankfully, no one felt the need to comment on what I had done. I set down my now empty rifle and picked the metal rod back up.

"Think these are the ones we need?" Rose asked, holding up the keys in front of her face.

"We don't really have a choice, now do we?" the tough-guy replied, then turned to me. "Pass that here." He held out his hand for the only weapon we had.

"No way in hell," I said. "Find your own damn weapon." He took a step toward me so I held the piece of frame like a bat.

He stopped and took a step back. "Fine, then you get to be in the lead."

"That's fine with me," I said. At least if I was in the lead, they couldn't leave me behind should my missing toe slow me down.

I turned to face George, making sure he could see my mouth. "Where to next?"

He turned the book on its side, then pointed straight. Rose gave me a nod, like she was confirming George's instructions. I swallowed; my nerves were shot. I had no idea how this was going to turn out. One literal wrong turn meant death. Stamping down my unease, I started in the direction George had pointed. We moved at a slow pace, looking around us.

One of the female prisoners gasped and clamped her hand down on her mouth when we passed by the fallen bodies of the two prisoners the guard had passed. The others had to prod her along, making them fall a few meters behind us. George tapped my shoulder and pointed to the left, indicating that we had to turn that way when we came to the end of the hallway. One of the emergency lights wasn't working, so the crossroads that we were slowly approaching appeared darkened and uninviting.

"You hear that?" the tough-guy asked.

I was about to ask if that was a crack at George when my ears picked up the sound of rasping and growling. We peered around the right corner to see a group of infected-some crouched, tearing into a fallen body.

"Run!" I yelled and we bolted left, away from them.

A bunch tore themselves away from the feeding frenzy to pursue us. The other three prisoners were too far behind us and the infected cut them off. The one girl screamed, and they bolted back toward the cafeteria.

"We have to go back for them!" Leo stopped to yell.

I grabbed his arm and yanked. "They're on their own now, we need to move!"

Leo looked from me to the crowd of approaching infected with his brows drawn. With his head down, he finally starting moving again. The tough-guy had already bolted to the end of the corridor and was currently body slamming the emergency doors on the left. We sprinted to him, putting some more space between the infected in the hallway and us.

"They won't open," I halted long enough to tell him and then kept following the hallway as it turned to the right.

Our escape was foiled as someone had closed and bolted shut the two giant metal doors at the end of the corridor. As a group, we slammed into it, but they didn't open. Rose quickly tried to cycle through the keys on the ring we had lifted off of the guard. I looked around. We were in a waiting area, with a small office with a giant plane of glass allowing people to look in.

"None of these are working!" Rose cried out.

"The sick ones are almost at the bend!" Leo added from his post at the corner.

I turned in circles trying to see a way out, but there was none. Unless the metal doors opened, we were trapped. Tough-guy tried body slamming the office door, then gave that up in favor of kicking it down. The door shot open with his last kick, and we all stared at each other, frozen.

"Come on!" He waved us over.

We piled into the small office just as the infected made it around the corner we had come from. The door's lock was broken thanks to the rough entry, so Tough-guy leaned against it. We watched through the window, as the infected swarmed the small waiting area and began banging on the glass and door. I let out a humorless laugh. We were really up shit-creek now.