Every Wrong Reason(103)

I finally got through the rope, but as soon as the slack was gone, something huge and clanging crashed to the ground just on the other side of the door. It sounded like pots or pans and a whole bunch of breaking glass.

Shit!!!

I didn’t have time to process that right now, so I stood up, effectively shoved the rack out of the way and went for the door handle. Another gun shot behind me and another Feeder dropped to the ground.

I lunged for the door handle, and turned it desperately. And nothing.

It was locked.

“No!” I screamed, not caring about the noise level at this point.

Haley’s last bullet exited her gun and the last Feeder felt the hit and fell to the ground directly behind me. These guys were dead, but there were who knew how many now headed toward us. Haley was out of bullets, and I had three left.

And our only exit was locked.

“What are you waiting for, Reagan. Let’s get the hell out of here!” Haley’s back was still to me as she faced her now empty gun at the hallway, just waiting for the rest of the Feeders to follow the sounds and find us.

“It’s locked! Damn it!”

Completely panicked, I yanked on the handled and kicked it with my new shoe. Nothing happened. The door stayed firmly locked, stubbornly unmoving. This was definitely worst case scenario.

And not ten minutes ago I had been really excited about all that eye liner and a new pair of jeans.

This was so not how I was going out. I’d survived Quarterback-Chris, the death of my parents and almost two freaking years of living as the most depressing version of Mila Jovovich in Resident Evil ever.

“Open, damn it!” I screamed at the door, giving it another kick with my foot.

Only this time, my foot didn’t connect with anything. The door wrenched open and my body flew, following my foot, through the empty space I wasn’t expecting. I fell straight to my hands and knees in a huge pile of glass shards and broken ceramic. I felt the thick chunks of debris dig and slice through my skin immediately. My jeans would be completely irreparable after this and, with my luck, as soon as I was able to stop bleeding; I was for sure going to get gangrene.

What the hell?

“What the hell, Reagan?” Haley practically screamed at me as soon as she was through the doorway. She slammed the door behind her and braced her body against it; meanwhile, I was still doggy style in a pile of glass I was too afraid to stand up from.

The damage was going to be annoyingly excessive.

Before I could answer her though, I heard the signature click of a bullet being loaded into the chamber. More dread slithered through my body; other humans were just as deadly and dangerous as Zombies these days. And apparently we were trespassing.

“Don’t move,” a deep, masculine voice ordered in a quiet, steely tone.

“Out of the frying pan,” Haley mumbled resignedly.

“And into the fire,” I finished for her.

I would never complain about eyeliner again.