#328 - Incident #003

One shot left. His gun smokes, burns in his hand. Fifteen dead, failed on their second attempt at life. They lay scattered around his feet. But not all. The one he missed slides across the ground. Digging its claws into the earth and pulling. Creeping up behind him, almost silently. But he hears. He whips around just as the decayed hand grabs his ankle. One shot in the head. The top half of it blows away in slow motion. He breathes in relief. But he did not win. A drop of contaminated blood had landed on his lips. Which he unknowingly licked away. He heads home to his waiting family.