Carl woke with a jolt from a micro dream in which dark creatures pulled at him. It was at least the third such dream since he had laid down, his brain unable to switch off from the new reality, a reality in which danger was almost always present. He had been having terrible dreams for six months, and as bad as these fresh ones were, at least they didn't include people he knew.

He sat and gave a quiet glance about, proving that everything was in order, Beth slept soundly in the bed, while a pile of sheets and quilts in the corner covered Jace. The room itself was sealed, a heavy bed blocking the door from opening, but it also meant that he would have to wait for the others to rise before he could leave. Quietly he rose and donned his dirty clothes, the only pair he had.

Standing in front of the window and looking out across the grounds he watched the dead as they wandered about. Counting sixteen in total as they made their way towards the entrance. It would have bothered him more had he not known about the bodies they had dispatched last night. Where there was food, the undead would follow, it wasn't something to worry on, at least not yet and they would cross that bridge when they come to it. Right now, living people were stirring in the light and good thing too, because hunger was already eating away at his insides like a ball of maggots.

Both Carls companions chose to wear their own clothes, rather than be caught unprepared in a hotel robe. A choice that highlighted the need for a new wardrobe, the meager few sets they owned, had been left behind in the rush to escape. Despite the blood spattered clothing, there was the more pressing issues of food and water to be dealt with.

The hotel thus far, seemed to be left abandoned, all the rooms they checked had been made up in readiness for guest arrivals. While it left them in short supply of stuff to wear it also gave them a glimmer of hope that the kitchen may still be stocked.

A hotel with this many rooms would have to keep a good supply of basics on hand, so it was with a hopeful optimism. that they attempted to make their way to the kitchen.

It wasn't until they reached the mezzanine that the realization of two things hit them. The first was that there was a lot more window than they first realized. From where they stood overlooking the foyer, they could see the most of the carpark. This wouldn't have been so troubling, had the number of undead, not been quite a bit more than first thought. The sixteen Carl had counted had multiplied and instinctively he froze at the sight of them. Already they had gorged on the corpses left from the night before and were milling around while more came to eat their fill.

As the others ceased their movement in response to his reaction, Carl crept forward to get a better view. So far it seemed that none had reason to wander inside, but there was little to stop them from doing so. Carl's first instinct was to block the turn style from spinning and his eyes quickly found large planters that would easily do the job. Not being one to rush however, he crept back to the other for a quick consultation.

"Won't that be cutting off an escape?" Beth chimed in early as he described the plan.

It wasn't something Carl had thought of and he was glad she had bought it up. So far the place was abandoned, but for all they knew, their might be a hoard of who knows what lurking about. If the attack from yesterday had taught them anything, it was to not get complacent.

Carl's stomach rumbled as they backtracked and checked the exits. It wasn't until they were confident they had an escape route that they returned to the turn style and blocked the entrance using large concrete planters. The undead were content to watch them for the most part, having already filled up on easy pickings. Only a few of the more aggressive ones attempted to get at them, mostly through the window, leaving dark bloody smears, further obscuring the view. Feeding the zombies definitely had its advantages and Carl could see why people tried it in London. It was only ever a short term solution and quite often led to larger problems, even out here the numbers were ever increasing.

Making their way through the restaurant, Carl could still smell the stale odor of feces that accompanied the undead. He wasn't sure if it was on his shirt or if it had just followed him, somehow stuck in his sinuses. It wasn't until they were standing inside the kitchen that the red flags were impossible to ignore and the alarm bells started ringing. The kitchen was in complete disarray, every surface smeared with a substance, some of it blood, others not so recognizable. Remains of small animals lay scattered, skins discarded like lolly wrappers after their meaty goodness was gone. It was a scene that they were not unaccustomed to, but somehow this was different and Carl was still trying to put his finger on it when he noticed the worn path, the path of something tracing the same steps over and over.

"Looks like we lucked out." Jace vocalized his disappointment before Carl could voice his concern.

In a flash, something burst from the dry store, making a grab for Jace, its hands finding his shirt and latching on. Unprepared for such a close encounter Jace abandoned the star dropper, instead trying desperately to keep the humanoid undead from biting his face. In a split second they unbalanced and toppled over, the creature using its weight to force itself on him. Panic leapt in Carl as he pulled Beth back and away from the struggle. Jace screamed in pain as the omnivore's teeth clamped onto his fingers like a vice. Carl swung his dropper, smashing the creature across its back, snapping the spine, to no effect. It had a hold now and although it could inflict no life threatening damage, it still wasn't about to let go.

Jace's free arm kept flailing in an attempt to land blows, making another shot difficult for Carl. Thinking quick he pulled a knife from a magnetic strip on the splash back.

"Jace, hold still!" Carl's voice was loud and firm. "Put your arm down and lay still, it's going to be ok."

Jace screamed again as the thing tried to sever his fingers, but found the bone too much for its teeth. With a great effort, he seemed to put his faith in Carl and the large man hoped it wasn't misplaced. Holding the former mans hair, he pulled its head back, causing more cries of pain from Jace. Quickly he slid the knife across the neck, quickly sliding it back and forth, cutting the flesh deeply. The knife was sharp hitting the vertebrae fast and it took Carl several tries to force the blade between them. Once it was through, the back of the neck sliced quickly and he took care not to cut himself as the last of the resistance gave way and the head came free in his hand.

Dark blood poured over Jace and he continued to scream, as the head rested, detached on his chest. Carl had to drag the twitching headless corpse away, the wiry frame holding little weight. It took extra effort for them to pry the jaw open enough for Jace to get his fingers free, despite being irrevocably dead, the thing had a lock jaw. For the first time since the attack started, Carl looked to make sure Beth was ok and he found her, dropper at the ready, guarding the door. Satisfied that she had it under control, Carl turned his attention back to Jace, who was shaking with shock and sobbing.

"I'm bit." He managed through the heaving.

"It's done now." Carl tried to reassure him, but the guy looked like he was going to be sick. "It will be fine...let's get you patched up then, shall we?"

Jace stared at him still shaking, for the first time since they met Carl felt the facade slip and Jace lost his arrogance, looking like nothing more than a scared child.