"Dani, the bar!" I shout, gesturing wildly with my head to the security bar hanging next to the door. Acting quick, she slams it into place before the Banshee can slam into it again. 

The echoing scream of the enraged beast on the other side of the door is loud enough to rattle the latch and make my ears ring, though I have no time to recover as Dani yanks me away from the door and up a set of metal stairs as several Ferals floods into the main facility. 

"The administration offices are this way," I direct, quickly grabbing her wrist and bolting in front of her and dragging her down the catwalk, through a set of metal doors, and down a tiled hall before throwing open the last door on the end and pulling her inside, slamming it shut behind us and crouching. Thankfully, the familiar room is empty save for the two of us, with a broken window behind an admin desk, a set of sleeping bags, and the map my sister left open on the desk. 

I slump against the door of the office, sliding down until I sit as my legs give out from under me, my body sore, and especially my arm where the heavy Feral attempted to make mince meat out of me. Dani plops on the ground before me, panting just as hard, though she leans forward and observes me. 

"Which... arm... was it?" She pants, blood trickling down the side of her face. 

"What?" 

"Which arm? The Feral, I saw it bite you." 

Breathing hard, I offer her the arm the Feral gnawed on, which she carefully takes in her hands after scooting a little closer. She gently removes the thick armor piece and pushes up the sleeve, revealing a rather serious-looking bruise, though luckily, no blood. We both breathe a sigh of relief.

"What about your head?" I ask, brushing aside some of her hair to examine the wound. 

Dani winces and jerks away, and I quickly retract my hands, worried that I hurt her. "It's fine for now," Dani dismisses. 

"No, nuh-uh," I shake my head, glaring at her as she blinks at me. 

"Fuck you mean 'nuh-uh'? I'm fine-"

"You're not going to dismiss your injuries anymore, Dani," I snap. "You're a human being, just like the rest of us. What about your ribs, huh? You've been walking with a limp since the Titan batted you like a chew toy." 

"Cassandra, I'm fine-"

"Leon isn't here, Dani, so shut up and let me look you over." 

Dani's teeth click together as her jaw snaps shut, her lips set in a hard line as she watches me with wide, stormy eyes. I scoot a little closer to her as I gently move her bloody blonde hair in search of the wound and quickly find a nasty gash just in her hairline. Frowning, I glance around the room, taking inventory of what we have available, and sigh in relief when I notice that many of the supplies my family and I had left behind were still here, including the last remnants of our dismal first aid kit. 

"Luckily for you, some of my stuff is still here," I note, grabbing the kit and bringing it to Dani. "I don't have much left in my suture kit, so liquid stitch will have to work until we get back to get that properly looked at." 

Dani sits perfectly still as she watches me clean and seal her wound, though remnants of blood still cover her face. 

"Now," I sit back, looking over my handiwork. “I know it's not professional-level like what you could have done, but it should get the job done." 

Dani mutters, "Thank you..." under her breath as I stand, slip the armored piece back onto my arm, and assess the situation. 

"We need to radio Ethan and Sparrow and let them know what happened out there; we're going to need a rescue with that Banshee out there," I say, reaching for my walkie. I pause, looking down at my belt and patting my pockets. 

"What's wrong?" Dani asks, standing. 

"Shit, I think my walkie fell off when we crashed," I mutter. "What about you? Got yours on you?" 

Dani gives herself a pat down as well, her face paling and mirroring my own expression of horror. "Fuck..." 

"We're on our own out here..." 

Irritated screams of hunger and indignance echo throughout the empty halls and through the broken window of the office building as Dani and I slouch against the far wall of our measly shelter, unsure of how to proceed as the reality of our situation starts to sink in. The Banshee banging away at the metal door we entered through reverberates within my skull like the ominous chiming of a grandfather clock, ticking away the time we have left until it breaks through and finishes us off. It beats in time with the thunder of Feral's footsteps on the other side of the door, searching for us two unlucky survivors.

"Okay," I sigh, running my hands through my hair. "So, neither of us has our walkies, most of my arrows spilled out when we crashed, and you have a gash in your head bigger than Matt's ego." 

"Sounds like a Tuesday," Dani huffs, resting her head against the wall as she stares at the ceiling.

I roll my eyes and search the room, taking stock of the supplies my siblings and I left here a few days ago. I used up the last of the first aid kit while treating Dani, and what little food we had remaining had been scavenged by wild animals. I carefully place the map my sister had left here into my backpack, hoping that by retrieving it, Octavia would become somewhat less irritable. 

Outside the broken window is a steep drop onto a pile of logs, though the area near it is, for the most part, free of infected. Most of the Ferals in the region are migrating around the building towards the main entrance, where the angry screaming of the Banshee rings out as it continues to clobber the metal door. Not far from the building are the dirt tracks our bikes left as we rode around the lumberyard in our vain attempt to wrangle up the Ferals.

As I survey the area, an idea strikes me, and I quickly set to work clearing the broken glass from the window frame. Digging through my old bag, I condense the old supplies with what little I have, sighing in relief as I pull out the unused paracord.

"Why are you smiling like that..?" Dani ventures as I poke my head out of the window once again, judging the distance between the window and the ground.

"Because I have a terrible idea that might be bad enough to work," I declare, unwrapping the cord. "Here, hold this end for me real quick." 

"Please don't tell me we're using this to climb out," Dani's voice is uncertain as she takes hold of one end of the cable, gripping tightly as I quickly unravel it, folding it several times over itself and knot it the best I can to strengthen itself. 

"We are," I grunt, tying the last few knots. "Those walkies are our lifeline to the rest of the group, and the inside of the building is crawling with Ferals." 

"Uh, the whole place is crawling with Ferals, and Jack the Ripper is right outside." 

"The Banshee's blind," I note, taking the tied-up cable and scanning the room for an anchor point. "So long as the infected are making more noise than we are, it won't know to target us." 

"How do you know so much about those things?" Dani demands with suspicious eyes. 

"Four years in the apocalypse traveling across the states, you pick up a thing or two," I remark.

She shakes her head, wiping her brow of sweat and dried blood. "Okay, well, what are we gonna do once we're on the ground? We can't just sneak past this many infected." 

"We won't be; we're getting back to the bikes, grabbing our shit, and finishing the lure." 

Dani blinks, her jaw slack as she watches me tug at the table, testing its weight. The sound of the legs scraping against the tile floor echoes in the room, and the thundering footsteps outside our little haven get louder. "You're insane." 

"Maybe," I grunt, dragging the hefty desk closer to the window, not bothering to hide the nails on a chalkboard squeaking as I do so. "But I'm also not going to just wait around and hope the Feral's disappear." I tie one end of the thickened cord to the leg of the desk and give it a few test tugs. "We have a whole camp of people depending on us making this plan work, so what do you say we get the Hell outta here and finish what we came here to do?" 

Dani stares at me, her mouth agape, as I offer her my hand to stand, tossing the remainder of the rope out of the window to dangle. Her cheeks color as she stares in awe, then huffs out a chuckle and takes my hand, a nervous grin on her face. 

"Alright, then, Laura Croft," she relents. "What's the plan?" 

Frantic banging on the office door makes us both jump, and my heart kicks into overdrive. "Get down, go around, jump on the bikes, and hope we can pull enough of these freaks to the Widow camp to keep them busy. Now get going!" 

I frantically gesture for Dani to climb down the cord as I dash towards the bookshelves, yanking them down onto its side and shoving it towards the door as it begins to crack with every impact, as though a hundred hands are knocking at once.

"Cass-!"

"Keep going, I'm right behind you!" 

With barely a glance back to make sure she's climbing down, I brace the door with the bookshelf and throw my body weight against it, but even then, I'm still shoved by the sheer force of the Ferals, desperate to get inside.

Dani's voice calls from outside the window, alerting me that the rope is clear. Without another word, I bolt away from the door and towards freedom. It cracks open with a thunderous CRA-BANG as several Ferals spill over one another, attempting to get in, clawing, screaming, and spitting as they swipe and gnash at me. Leaping, I slide over the desk and dump out of the window, twisting hard to latch myself to the ledge of the window as a Feral leaps after me, diving headfirst out of the building and soaring through the air like a majestic screeching chimp before splattering against the dirt several feet below me, and not far from where Dani braces against the building. 

"Heads up!" I shout, my shaky grip very quickly slipping as half a dozen more Ferals pour out of the window, one of them snagging my belt on the way down. I slip further, gripping the cord as I'm barely able to control my descent, wincing as the cable burns my palms and fingers, praying that it's strong enough to hold me.

And then I'm weightless. 

Above me, several Ferals are hanging out of the window, arms swinging wildly as they claw at my free-falling form; the cord had snapped. A sharp pain shoots up my leg as I land awkwardly on my feet, my knees buckling under me as I tumble rather unceremoniously into the dirt, yelping in pain as something in my ankle gives a horrendous pop.

"Damn it, Cassandra!" I hear Dani exclaim, and soon, her arms are tucked under mine, and she's hauling me back to my feet once more. "Come on, we gotta hurry!" 

My tumble and cry of pain has gotten the attention of several Ferals, and with my arm around Dani's shoulder and her's around my waist, we run the fastest tripedal relay I've ever been in, my ankle stiff and on fire as I fight to stay on my feet. Dani steers me around the corner where we see the bike we crashed not too far, with our walkies discarded in the dirt and my arrows, broken and snapped, scattered across the ground. 

Over the hungry and angry screams of the Feral's, Sparrow's voice calls from the walkies, "...have eyes on the hoard?! I repeat, do you have eyes on the hoard?!"