Focus on the zombie, focus on the others around you. Focus on anything but your hand. He kept repeating that silently to himself as Rory crossed the room with the gun. If they weren’t careful, this last infected could get loose in the compound and that would be very, very bad. Rory nudged him back and he complied, not having sense at the moment to explain to her what had happened. He still wasn’t quite sure he believed it himself.
The second gunshot rang out with a sense of finality, although things were far from over. Elliot released his grip on the unmoving body, but made no move to stand up right away. His attention went back to his hand when Rory reminded him of his wound.
He’d been bitten.
Ellie’s voice spoke up from a few feet away, dazed and meek at first, then taking on a different tone, one that made Elliot turn his head and look in her direction. The other woman was covered in blood. Her own? Or the infected? He couldn’t tell. Maybe both.
Then she ran.
“Ellie, wait! You can’t — Quarantine — You have to… You’re hurt!” She was gone, carried off by her own terror, and Elliot hadn’t the energy to go after her.
His gaze went back to Rory. “Someone has to go after her,” he said, desperate to ignore his own pain. “If… If she turns…” Sing Sing couldn’t have a zombie loose within its walls.