No. I was under five bodies! How could the see me?
“Yeah. Let’s see if he has a gun.”
My heart was racing. It went faster as the bodies were shifted off of me. No. Then the last body was off. I looked in one direction. I didn’t close my eyes. The three inmates eyed me. One was tall and built like an ox. Tattoos covered the right of his neck down to his right forearm. The other was tall and lanky with dreadlocks. The last one was small but muscular. He had short hair and slightly oriental face.
“Search him.” said the ox.
Crap. The taller one lifted me off the ground by my shirt and looked over me. He dropped me and said, “He don’t have one.”
I stayed still and breathed slightly.
“Let’s go.”
I waited until I couldn’t see them and re-equipped myself. I headed to the bathroom and opened it to see dead inmates in the stalls. One had his face smashed through a urinal.
I ran to the sink. It was surprisingly clean. I proceeded to wash my face and shirt. I dried myself and continued on. The hallway lights flickered and died in some areas. Then the speakers crackled to life.
“I’ve found the armory. It’s in the east wing. Whoever wants to survive better get one quick!” said a male voice.
There was chanting that was heard in the halls. I had to avoid the East wing at all costs.
I then heard a familiar voice.
“Mike? Is that you?”
I turned to see Jen. How did she get here?
“Jen? Is that you?”
Her red hair hung to her shoulders and she wore a tight shirt with a mini-skirt. She was so beautiful. But why was she here? In the Asylum? The Mad House?
“Jen? What are you talkin’ about?”
The figure changed and blurred and came towards me, gabbing me by the shoulders with a firm grip. The person shook me and the blurry image cleared up again.
“It’s me Bill!”
I blinked a couple of times and came to my senses.
“Sorry. I want to see her. I’m glad you’re okay!” I said.
“Did you hear?” asked Bill.
“Yeah they have guns.”
As if proving my point, gunshots were fired.
“Shit!” exclaimed Bill.
We armed ourselves with our standard pistols and took aim. Inmates were shooting shotguns at each other. Along with machine guns and sub machine guns. And we had 2 puny pistols. We hid on opposite sides of the hall and waited. Two people fired furiously,wasting ammo as if they had two million bullets left.
I peeked out and shot a man. He happened to be holding a shotgun. He crumpled against the wall and lay still. The other inmate came to check it out. He saw the body for half a second before Bill put a bullet in his head. I took the shotgun and Bill took the sub machine gun. I put my pipe through my belt and my pistol in my holster.
Feeling more protected, we continued on.
“So how did this happen?” I asked.
“I don’t know man. The doors just unlocked.”
“Not just that. Why are they murdering each other instead of trying to escape?”
“Well they can’t escape due to our secure perimeter. But I don’t know. Grudges maybe?” suggested Bill.
“When that alarm went off they went ballistic!” I exclaimed.
“Who unlocked the doors?” asked Bill.
“I don’t know. Why would some one with access to the control room unlock all the doors?” I wondered aloud.
We continued on through the dark hallways,our hearts thumping so loud others could probably hear it. Then a small noise. We aimed instinctively, listening. Panting.
“Come out.With your hands up!” said Bill.
A prisoner came out holding two glocks.
“You first.” He replied.
