Extraction

"Nighthawk, do you read me? This is Hunk, from Alpha team."

Still, no response.

Everything was bright. The opposite of the dark grays and crimson reds that plagued the Raccoon City P.D. The upside to the blinding colors was that he didn't have to worry about using his flashlight no more, which meant he wasn't looking at everything through fish-eye'd lenses anymore.

He could hear fast-running footsteps behind him, trailing his every move. No doubt he was being chased.

Hunk continued to run at a steady pace, making sure not to tire himself out too much. Each room he entered was a maze, and a guess to where he might end up next. Without a direction to go in, he was simply guessing each decision based off of a quick analysis of where he was at. He needed to get out of this place.

"Stop!" He heard somebody yell from behind. He didn't listen.

Small flashes of light illuminated the room he was in, and zombies began to appear from those lights. Each of them with their own grotesque look, staining the bright colored tiles with a deep rotted crimson red, their movements sluggish and painful looking. Within seconds of the lights flashing, multiple screams were heard, likely from the people chasing him.

Hunk ignored the infected around him, sparing every bullet he possibly could. He wasn't going to dare waste a bullet unless he absolutely needed to. With a limited munition supply, and the odds stacked against him in every way possible, he wasn't about to make any stupid decisions. With a sharp left turn and a bash through a doorway, he was now in what looked like to be a large cafeteria, where multiple ponies sat in armor, dining.

Apparently they hadn't heard the screams.

Hunk refused to slow down, and ran down the middle isle, catching the attention of every guard inside. Following right behind, was a trail of zombies, desperately wanting flesh, any flesh in their mouth. The horrified screams of the guards filled the cafeteria within seconds, and sounds of small explosions rumbled the floor. Unicorns discharged lethal spells immediately after seeing fallen comrades become meals, and other guards simply jabbed their spears towards the infected.

"D-Don't force me!" A guard said, blocking the door that Hunk was headed for. Hunk stopped on a dime, aiming his rifle towards the shaking Pegasus that held a spear in his direction. He looked up and down at him, and made a quick, but possibly costly decision. With a single pull of the trigger, a bullet ripped through the Pegasus' leg, causing him to fall and drop the spear with a yelp. Hunk busted through the door behind him.

Stairs.

Hunk happened to be moving too fast, and fell down them. Each rough landing on the jagged edges of the stairs was another groan that came from his helmet, until he finally made it to the floor. Hunk laid there for a second, unable to get up from the daze-inducing experience. And, when he wanted to get up, he was forced not to from an infected that happened to appear right on top of him.

With a quick reach into his pocket, he jabbed a knife into the infected's neck, digging deep with it and tossing the zombie to the side. With haste, he scrambled up onto his feet, and continued to move forward. Each step that landed on his left leg had a sharp pain, but he refused to acknowledge it.

"Nighthawk, do you read me? I need information on my extraction."

Nothing but static played back to him.