With a great deal of effort you scramble up from the rails, swinging your leg up and then shimmying over the fence, leaving your coat on the barbed wire to protect you and to give you a way back over. You dash down, leaping off a wall down to the road with a loud ‘oof’ as you wind yourself, carrying the heavy bag is slowing you up. There’s a few bodies in the street, shot through the head and piled up crudely at the side of the road. There’s a lot of bloodstains on the walls as well and bulletholes. It looks more like a street in Iraq than London.
You’ve already been noticed by a couple of the dead on the road, though there don’t seem to be too many around. They turn and begin to lurch towards you, one of them has no left arm and is riddled with wounds, the other is a whole, fresh-looking teenage girl, could have been someone from your school easily, but you’ve no time to care about that.
The shops have smashed windows here – the ones that still had glass when things went to crap – the rest seem relatively intact, even if some of the doors have been broken open. There’s a small hardware store that you shove your way into, grabbing batteries and a torch still in its packet but freezing up as you hear a low, rumbling groan behind you, inside the shop.
|Drag your golg club out and turn to attack.|
|Grab the shelf and drag it over onto whatever’s behind you.|
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