[ IP ] Escape from New York

`` Get up!'' I pulled at Tom's coat, dragging him behind me as I ran. `` Walk it off, man, walk it off.'' 
 
 `` I ca n't fucking walk it off.'' He said, stumbling and tripping as I drug him, the bear trap around his foot and obviously broken leg preventing him from keeping pace. `` Get it off me.'' 
 
 `` There's not time. We need to get out of the light.'' The parking garage was just a block away. He could make it, I knew he could make it, if he would just run. 
 
 `` My leg man! Get off me, I ca n't run.'' He said as piece of debris caught around the trap and halted his momentum. He fell, gun skittering along the ground ahead of him. 
 
 I ran a few steps ahead before I realized what had happened. I turned and ran back. I struggled with the trap, finally loosing it from the piece of rebar that had hooked it. `` Fine, I'll carry you. Just fucking shoot anything that moves. They're right behind us.'' I grabbed Tom's gun, forced it into his hands, and then hefted him over my shoulder. I could hear them, yelling and calling and running behind us. They were about to turn the corner. 
 
 My head rang as the first shots rang out, Tom was already firing, his gun just next to my ears. I ran as fast and as hard as I could, Tom's weight dragging at me as we went. I slipped on a patch of oily slime and nearly fell. A bullet buzzed over my head and Tom fired again. They were closer, nearly on us. I was only grateful that they were n't better shots and most of them did n't have guns. Another few shots rang out as we rounded the corner. There, the parking garage sat dark and silent. I saw a small flash of light, one of the other scavengers was waiting for us. 
 
 More bullets buzzed by, sounding like angry hornets. One bounced off the blacktop next to me and sent shrapnel flying. A small sliver struck me in the leg, something that would have to be cleaned out to avoid the infection. I saw muzzle flashes light up the parking garage as the scavenger began firing at our pursuers. I hoped that they were aiming for the ones with guns. I heard something strike Tom and then felt warm blood splash my face as the bullet punched through his shoulder, closely missing my face. 
 
 500 feet, we were almost there. I could hear them just behind us now, only a few yards, banging pipes and knives and trashcan lids together to form a cacophonous noise that echoed down the streets. 200 feet, the darkness was so close and my legs were tired. I struggled forwards, Tom's weight dragging at me as he screamed and fired and cried. His blood was seeping into my shirt and making him slippery and difficult to hold onto. 15 feet and the scavenger's bullet flew by me, striking down one of them just as he raised an axe. I tripped in the last 5 feet, sprawling onto the ground and tumbling into the garage. I was disoriented for a moment, but saw Tom next to me in the dark. I grabbed up my rifle and stood, turning towards them. 
 
 They stood, pale and white, skin glowing in the bright light. Some were bloodied, some were deformed, and some looked like abnormally pale humans. I could see their eyes, pupils permanently contracted into almost microscopic pinpoints. That was the only reason we were safe, they could n't see in the dark, losing that natural ability to the infection. They had been us, our friends and loved ones, but they had changed. The great bombs that fell from the skies carried not a nuclear payload, but a viral one. Only 1 % of the population had natural immunity to the airborne form, leaving the other 99 % to either die or change from the disease. They'd become the new masters of New York and had blockaded the city, building a wall in a matter of days from the rubble left from the bombs. We were trapped in their world, but they could not enter our bastions of darkness. 
 
 We faced each other for a moment, neither wanting to instigate a fight, them because they would be blind in the dark and us because we would not be able to kill them before they fell on us. Eventually, both parties backed away, and we retreated into the garage. Tom would be fine, a leg brace, some antiseptic, and decent doctor were all he needed.
