The arrow whistles through the air and strikes true, slamming into the infected's chest. The force of the arrow knocks the creature off its feet, its limbs flailing as it collapses onto the ground like a thrown doll.
For a moment, I think it might stand back up, but it does not. It just lies there. Dead.
I let out a slow breath that I hadn't realized I was holding. The pain in my arm continues to pulse, yet I ignore it. I had bigger problems.
Looking back at the street, more infected continue to pour through.
A group of about 7 or 8 people seem to be holding the front, cutting and impaling through the horde with relative ease.
Looking back, me and 3 others continue to pour fire with old rifles, pistols, and whatever other ranged weapons we had, trying our best to cover those at the front.
Hearing a terrified scream, my head twists back toward the horde. One of our front liners seemed to have tripped over one of the many tangled limbs and torsos that covered the street.
I nock another arrow, firing it at one of the infected, piercing and killing the creature instantly. Yet, that doesn't seem to do much as another takes it's place, lunging at the man on the ground.
I quickly aim another arrow as the man screams in pain, the infected biting at his arm and scratching at his face.
I fire it at the creature, just grazing the man on the floor and piercing the creatures neck.
Just as I think that I might've saved him, more appear, lunging at him as he tries to crawl his way back to safety.
Bang.
Jenny quickly puts the creature down from a shot of her weird four barrel pistol.
She stands above the man, swinging her large cleaver wildly in her right hand, and obliterating infected heads with the pistol in her left.
I quickly run over, grabbing the man by the collar of his prison uniform and dragging him back from beneath Jenny. I pull him back using all my strength, getting covered by the men shooting behind us. I manage to drag him to the steps of the town hall, finally having a chance to take a look at his condition.
His face was covered in a mix of black and red blood, full of scratches, yet nothing too deadly. The main issue was his right arm which seemed to be shredded from scratches and bite marks.
There was so much blood...
I had no idea what to do, I was not a doctor or a nurse, nor were there probably any on this whole island. I quickly rip up his shirt, revealing not only his messed up arm, but his mark in society as well. There was single black dash tatted on his arm. This man was a warrior, a low ranking one, but one nevertheless.
"Fuck" I mutter, taking a look at the situation. Fresh zombie blood was already seeping through into his blood stream. If it was just the scratches, or a small wound, his body probably would've been able to fight it off, but the bites.
I watch in horror as the veins in his arm start to turn into a distinct black color.
The infection was spreading fast.
I think about amputating, but quickly scratch the idea as the virus had already spread deeper into the body.
At this point, there was nothing I could do.
I take another look at his face while the never ending horde behind seems to gain ground.
He was one of the men sitting by the fire place inside the town hall who looked at me with contempt.
There's this feeling in my heart. I have no idea if it is sympathy, sadness, or something else, yet I still don't like it
I know that this is a simulation, yet it seems so real.
I have no idea what happens if someone fails or dies here.
I release a sigh, causing the man to turn towards me, giving me an expression of pain.
The veins in his neck and legs have started to darken. In just a few minutes, would the virus overtake him? I had no idea, but I could only suppose so. Gripping an arrow, I can only look at him with sorrow as I get ready to stab his neck.
A weird black foam begins to bubble at his lips as he attempts to speak to me, no doubt pleading for his life.
"You're going to die here anyway, don't blame me."
A single tear rolls down his blood streaked cheek.
He tries to move his weak, non shattered right arm, trying his best to stop me.
His eyes are no longer defiant. They stare at me, pleading with me. There's fear in them. Desperation. Humanity.
"Don't do that. It only makes this harder."
Looking back at the horde, it seems like they've gained ground.
Even those who had guns were no longer firing. They were out of ammo.
I look at the man one last time, wiping his tear with my sleeve.
I never figured out his name, yet his death always stuck with me.
"Goodbye."
Closing my eyes, I drive the arrow down, piercing his throat.
I feel the blood splatter onto me, staining my already filthy prison clothing.
Opening my eyes, I rise to my feet, watching the body twitch, the blood flowing out onto the steps of the town hall.
Releasing a sigh, my eyes widen in surprise as a golden screen appears in front of me.
Congratulations.
Your hands are now stained. You've ended a life.
The chancellor has decided to reward you.