Thirteenth of April
When I fell, it was like this.
We went two buildings down the block. The first floor was obliterated. I followed up the rear, and Mitchell was up front. Was me, Anatole, and Mitchell. Mitchell had the light and so we followed close, careful where we stepped and how much noise we made. We'd got a few weapons to smash in the heads of anything coming by, but it was a quiet night for the most part. We worked our way up the broken building, picked apart the remains of what looked like the average stereotypical cubicle office turned stampeded through shithole.
I don't remember what floor it was. But we heard a noise. Low. Angry. Like a growl, but still sort of human. A gurgle and the shuffling of feet on fucked up carpet down the hall. Mitchell moved forward. Anatole followed suit. Then me.
Sometimes... Sometimes those things. They uh. They're smart enough to circle 'round. Sometimes. They can catch us off guard and surround us fast if we're not paying attention. And once that happens... well, there ain't no getting out of that.
Mitchell sprinted forward. Anatole spun left, into a room and out of sight. I went left, too. There was a smack! and a scream in front of me. My boots crunched on something slick and hard. I thought about how it would've been nice to have a flashlight. Then the floor wobbled and a crack! echoed in the black. And then I fell.
My knee still aches. I'll get used to it though.