The chain-link gate bows another inch beneath the dead. Its lower hinge screams against the concrete, and the damaged rifle sling sways uselessly from Ella’s shoulder.
the CDC researcher
The hinge is failing! I have the hatch open, but the map is still on the counter!
Through the booth glass, the CDC researcher holds the service hatch with one hand and reaches across the counter with the other. The two Marine riflemen remain behind the overturned barrier, their abandoned posts marking the only ground Ella has crossed.
the CDC researcher
When you move, take the map and come straight through. I will lead you to the transit clinic.
The dead shove together behind the gate, their combined weight twisting the frame. Fine dust sifts from the concrete as the booth door trembles in its frame.
the CDC researcher
Now, Corporal! We have seconds, not minutes!
The route map lies within reach beyond the glass, while the dark service tunnel waits behind the researcher. The gate strains toward collapse, leaving Ella one brief opening to cross and begin the escape.