Rick Grimes, Buffy Summers, Leon Kennedy and Dr. Robert Neville are holed up in an abandoned house. Hordes of the living dead are attacking them.
Leon, Buffy and Rick stood on the bottom level of the house. The door entered into a small hallway that opened into a large, open room with two blockaded windows and a kitchen with a small window above the sink. On the other side of the larger room, were the stairs to the second level. They’d had a moment to collect themselves since they had fled the beast, but none of them were foolish enough to believe it would last long. After they had caught their breath, Leon spoke first. “Didn’t you say there was another survivor?” he asked.
Rick nodded. “He’s upstairs,” he answered, “He and I had a bit of a standoff when I got here… I had to knock him out and disarm in in order to calm him down. Hopefully he comes to soon. We could use all the help we can get.”
Leon and Buffy shared an uneasy glance. Their apprehension was cut short, however, when a loud bang drew their attention. The horde had reached the house. Moving quickly, Rick moved to the nearest window. A heavy, oak armoire stood in front of it, with enough room between it and the wall to peek through and out the window. Outside, the walkers were gathering. Dozens of them stood on the lawn, and the larger creature stood further away, on the street. Rick relayed the information to his new companions.
“What do we do?” asked Buffy, “It’s not like we can leave now and, not that I don’t trust you gentlemen and your shooting skills, but we don’t have any extra weaponry for me.”
Leon looked up and dropped his hand to his waist, hesitated, and then unclipped his pistol. He tossed it towards Buffy and said, “Now, you be careful with that thing. We don’t need to be worrying about infected AND you.”
Buffy laughed before weighing the weapon in her hand. She spun it around and smiled at Leon. “Heckler and Koch 9mm USP, hey? Not as much punch as I’d go for, but it’ll get the job done.”
Rick chuckled while Leon stared at Buffy. The lighthearted moment was interrupted by another bang on the door, louder than before. This time, there was no pause. The pounding started in earnest and after some crashing could be heard outside, the door began to buckle. Rick ran to it and braced it with his body. “Well, what are you two waiting for?! Use those things!”
Buffy and Leon sprinted into action, taking positions at the windows in the larger room. Leon had a clear line of sight from his window to the infected at the door, so he fired his shots in their direction, thinning the numbers of attackers. Buffy, having no extra ammunition took her shots carefully, picking off zombies that came too close to weak points in the house or headed toward the door. Rick tried to hold the door closed while the other two thinned the numbers. While reloading his weapon, Leon shouted to the others, “There’s really not that many… I bet if they stay spread out like this we can pick off enough that they either leave us alone or we can get the hell outta here.”
Rick was about to reply when he heard a noise behind him. He turned, letting his hands off the door, expecting to find a walker inside the house. Instead, he was greeted with the barrel of Robert Neville’s rifle. In all the commotion, no one had heard him come down the stairs, or quietly assemble his weapon.
Rick had always heard that you never hear the shot that kills you. By the time the sound reaches your ears, the bullet has already had its way with you. He remembered, vaguely, hearing the shot that had hit him on that day that he’d been left in a coma. The day everything had changed. He’d always attributed that to the fact that, well, that bullet didn’t kill him. He’d remained conscious long enough to hear it. Perhaps all those people were wrong, but those who knew for sure certainly weren’t saying much on the subject. That was why, when he heard the deafening crack from Robert’s rifle, Rick was so confused. He hadn’t expected to hear anything, not even feel much.
Robert pushed past Rick and raised the butt of his rifle to bludgeon the other creature that had forced its way through the door. Beside it, Rick noticed, was the one he had shot. “I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier,” Robert said to Rick, “I was rash and blinded by grief. If we’re going to get out of here, we’re going to have to work together.”
Rick nodded. “Everyone, let’s get outside and clean this rabble up. Then we can concentrate on getting out of here. Pick off the little ones, and then we’ll take care of the big beast.” They would get out of this place, or die trying.
Robert kicked the door outward and knelt, firing at the undead he could see. Rick fired over his shoulder with his own weapon. Buffy, seeing the numbers thinning, ran and tapped Rick, and then Robert on their shoulders, indicating they should cease fire. She stepped onto the body-strewn lawn, knife in one hand, stake in the other. She moved like a blur, stabbing, tripping, and kicking the zombies before they could react. Within moments, the lawn was nearly clear.
Before anyone could celebrate, the behemoth let out a great roar. No longer shambling, it moved with supernatural speed toward Buffy. Tired from her exertions, she could only partially move before a huge, swiping hand sent her sprawling into the street. The three men sprinted onto the lawn and began firing at the creature, but bullets hardly seemed to slow it. Its flesh would tear open, but the damage was unnoticed. Even a shot from Neville’s rifle to its skull did little to delay it. Buffy scrambled to her feet. This time, she was ready for the coming attack.
The beast swung again, but this time Buffy dove over the creature’s arm, rolling between its legs. She drove a stake into its thigh and leaped away before it could retaliate. It barely even seemed to feel the attack. Buffy looked at the men, who lowered their guns. Nothing seemed to hurt the beast. Robert opened his jacket slowly. “Your son,” said Robert as he reached inside, “What is his name?”
It took Rick a moment to realize who Robert was speaking to. “Carl…” said Rick, “his name is Carl.”
Robert smiled. “I bet our kids would have gotten along just fine. Carl and Marley. They would have been friends for the ages,” he said, as he pulled the grenade out from inside his jacket, “When you see Carl again, you tell him Robert Neville says hello.”
Leon looked at the grenade and then to Rick. “Hey,” said Leon, “You miss with that thing, who knows what damage it could do.”
Robert shook his head. “I’ve only got one,” he replied, “I’m not going to miss.”
Before Rick could grab him, Robert pulled the pin. Before it hit the ground, he was running across the lawn, charging the beast. Buffy stared on from the street. The beast, apparently surprised by Robert’s assault, turned slowly, staring down the screaming man. It picked him up in both its hands and lifted him above its head. It opened its mouth and roared, preparing to hurl Robert. As its mouth opened wide, Robert let the grenade drop. It dropped into the creature’s mouth, and it threw Robert into the house in surprised indignation. His lifeless body slumped to the ground. A moment and a muffled bang later, the creature was nothing more than a headless body.
Rick, Buffy and Leon stood, too shocked to say anything. In the distance, a siren began to wail.