Annaliese looked up to see the horde of infected rushing into the room. Seeking the nearest barrier to protect herself, she leapt up onto the mahogany dining table and clambered down its length. She was counting on the erratic, uncoordinated movements of her pursuers to buy her some time. Sure enough, as they reached the table themselves, they struggled to gain purchase and lift themselves up onto its polished surface to come after her.
Annaliese dodged candelabras and centrepieces as she made her way down the table. She peered back over her shoulder to see that only a couple of infected people had managed to clamber up onto the table after her – they slid and skittered about as they tried to keep their balance – but most of the remaining mob pursued her from the ground. They reached up at her as they kept pace alongside her.
Pure survival instinct urged her onwards, but it soon became apparent that she was running out of table, like a plane nearing the end of a runway. She had to think fast.
I have to clear a way through to the reception area.
She put on the brakes, skidding on her heels and turning around. An infected girl sprinted towards her from further down the table. Annaliese ran towards her, meeting the charge head on. They ran at each other like fighting bulls.
Oh God, oh God. What the hell am I doing?
At the last moment, she ducked down and skidded sideways on her knees. The highly-polished surface of the table allowed her to slide easily. She collided with the girl charging towards her and knocked her aside like a skittle. The woman tumbled off the table and into the baying mob that surrounded them.
Annaliese’s rubber wellington’s sapped the last of her momentum and brought her to a stop. She hopped back up to her feet and continued running, heading back the way she had originally come from, back towards the foyer. There was one more infected person on the table: a large man with an ample gut. She threw herself at his large belly, tucking in her shoulder and turning herself into a battering ram.
The man rocked and staggered, lost his footing and slipped off the table, leaving her free to sprint down what was left of the mahogany runway. Within seconds she had reached the end and leapt off into the air. As she landed, she looked over at the mob to see that they had changed direction and were coming right after her again.
But this time she had options.
Looking left and right, Annaliese realised she now had a chance to make it back to the safety of the kitchen. But she also realised that, with the gang of infected now behind her and leaving the foyer clear, she had the opportunity she needed to create a distraction.
The safety of the kitchen called to her, but somehow she found her feet travelling towards the reception foyer. Once she’d decided on her destination, she picked up speed. The screeching mob of murderers at her back pushed her onwards at a level of effort she didn’t know she had.
She fled into the foyer and saw that the only infected person present was the woman she’d tied up earlier with the keyboard cord. Annaliese wasted no time in rushing around her for the staircase, hoping that there would be no dangers lying ahead of her on the second floor. She didn’t need to look back to know that the entire mob was chasing after her. She could hear their screams and frantic footfalls across the tiles.
Her heart revved up and threatened to burst through her chest. Her feet throbbed as they struck the cold stone steps. But she couldn’t afford to stop, because the death that pursued her was relentless.
She reached the top of the staircase and turned right. Her stomach threatened to purge itself as her flight reflexes kicked in and sought ways to make her body lighter and faster. Her inner cavewoman took over and sent her racing across the landing at a speed that would leave her bedridden with muscle soreness tomorrow. But the pain would be worth it if it meant getting out of this situation alive.
Her destination was Room 7 and she hurtled past the lower numbers on either side of her: 1…2…3…4.
The mob was still behind her, crashing into the walls of the hallway like drunken pinballs, smashing into potted plants and side tables.
Keep running. Don’t stop. Ignore the pain.