Brennan was checking the floor moving around scraps of paper when he heard what sounded like footsteps, and whatever was coming towards them was moving fast. Suddenly all of the silence that had weighed down on him was cut by the sound of running and dripping, and was accompanied by the smell of rank meat. The second runner of the day burst through the doorway as Eloise tucked herself away into a cabinet. It was too close to him for Brennan to react quickly enough to line up a shot and it tackled him, knocking the gun across the floor. "Damnit. Shit."
He pressed his forearm against its neck, keeping it from biting at his face while he grabbed the knife he kept on his side. It's thrashing almost dislodged his arm, but he was able to drive the blade into the runner's temple, using the force of the stab to knock it off of him. He stabbed it a few more times out of fear-rage, but he heard more coming. He reached for the rifle again, though he wasn't sure how much good it would do him.
Pulling himself up off the floor, he managed to line up a good shot, taking one out quickly. Squeezing the trigger a second time, he misjudged, but got another in the leg, which, while not stopping it, slowed it down some until other runners barreled by it, knocking it to the ground and effectively and brutally killing it. He couldn't get an accurate count on how many, but he took more more shot before falling back to a less narrow area, checking the cabinet Eloise had put herself in to make sure none of them were trying to pry it open, but, fortunately or unfortunately, they were more foused on what they could see, and what they could see was Brennan. He fired as many rounds as he could before they got too close, hoping he would trim their numbers down before it came down to hand-to-hand fighting.