Ryan hacked her way through the infected filing in, reaching the door and slamming it shut against the weight of other bodies. She noticed a hand that had gotten caught in the door and, shuddering, kicked it with her boot and sent it sprawling onto the floor.
“Damn,” she muttered, grabbing a board and starting to nail it over the door, “I always get caught in this crap.”
The door buckled and shook against her but, gritting her teeth, Ryan continued to cover it with board after board, sliding a crowbar into the handles and finding whatever she could to barricade the breach. A stray zombie ambled towards her but, too tired to bother, pulled the rifle from her back and sent its brains flying out.
She sighed and wiped the sweat from her forehead, trying to catch her breath.
“Mitch? Owen? You guys alright?” she yelled, receiving no answer.
Ryan shook her head in disbelief and, taking the hammer from the floor, prepared to secure the premises.