This really wasn't the scenario Pete had been rooting for, but he was a pragmatist. He knew that out of all the possibilities, this was one of them. Power flareups were not uncommon in the terminal stages of the Legacy virus, but he was sorely disappointed. This shouldn't be happening. The last time he had seen Kira she had been in good spirits, and she'd looked a lot better. It had seemed at the time that the antiviral cocktail in the post-Cure treatment was doing its job. Maybe it still would. Maybe this was just an anomaly. Maybe.
If wishes were fishes... Pete was also a cynic, and a bit of a pessimist. He was fully aware that this did not bode well for Kira's recovery. But enough about that. He had some zombies to kill. And he did. He mowed down some on the periphery of the area Kira said she was in, careful to only shoot at those he could see clearly. It wouldn't do to go around shooting innocent bystanders, although he was fairly confident any bystanders would be easily recognizable from their flailing and bloodcurdling screams of horror. They should also be running away from the zombies, instead of along with.
"Kira! Where are you?" Pete snarled. He had to stop shooting until he had better visibility, and the damn trees were not helping. He hoped she had found a clearing of some sort, or otherwise someplace defensible. Once he convinced himself that the zombies were less interested in attacking anyone than in all converging on wherever his friend was, he began simply weaving through them. In order to find Kira, all he needed to do was run faster than them in the direction they were going, he was sure. Now, if only he could keep his damn gag reflex under control. He gritted his teeth and patted the flamethrower hanging at his side. The wide strap that held it was already biting into his shoulder. Civilized man was simply not meant to run with multiple weapons strapped to his person, Wisdom decided then. Especially not in the middle of summer.
"Oh, do shut up and breathe through yer bloody mouth," he grumbled to himself as he ran. His breathing was soon a little wheezy, and he cursed the almost-whole-pack a day of cigarettes he usually smoked, not for the first time.