their skeletal fingers grasping in her direction, clutching air as they reeled toward her. Shit! Just as in Raccoon, Umbrella's viral synthesis had effectively turned them into zombies, stealing their humanity and their lives. She didn't have time for disbelief or dismay, not with three of them closing in, not when she realized that there were others farther along the path. They staggered out from the shadows, slack, brutalized faces all turning slowly toward her, mouths hanging open, their gazes blank and unchanging. Some wore shreds of uniforms, camo or plain gray, guards and prisoners. There had been a spill, after all.

"Uhhhh…" "Ohhh…"

The overlapping cries epitomized great longing, each plaintive wail that of a starving man looking at a feast. Goddamn Umbrella for what they'd done! It was beyond tragic, the transformation from human into mindless, dying creatures, decaying as they walked. The inevitable fate of each virus carrier was death, but she couldn't let herself mourn for them, not now, her pity limited by the need to survive.

Go go go NOW!

Her assessment and analysis lasted less than a second and then she was moving, no plan except to get away. With the path blocked in both directions, she leaped for the center of the graveyard, clambering over the marble slabs that marked the resting places of the true dead. Her wet, muddy jeans clung to her legs, hampering her, her boots slipping against the smooth headstones, but she managed to climb up and balance her weight between two of them, out of reach for the moment. For the second! You gotta get out of here, fast.