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Evan James Stewart had fucked up. Yeah, he'd fucked up big. 

Bugging out of Dulles just before the parameter fence came down to a innumerable horde of shamblers, he'd managed to hitch a ride with a likewise rational minded man called Mike. 

Mike had seemed an alright guy; the kind of man who kept his head in a crisis. But Evan hadn't seen the bite on Mike's wrist, and so when they were speeding through Washington, dodging shamblers left and right, and making good the gaps created by the bus over the last few days, Mike's turning had come as somewhat of a surprise. 

Evan had thought Mike had simply got a bad cold. He was coughing nastily enough, but as Mike seemed pretty level headed, he took him at his word when he dismissed it as a "flu". What a stupid idea that was; no one can be trusted in these broken days of ours, no matter how genuine they seem to be.

Mike collapsed at the wheel of the car suddenly, sending it flying off course and into the back of a heavily modified bus. Evan was knocked unconscious on impact, the passenger side airbag deploying in earnest to save his face from the inside of the windshield. When he woke up minutes later, he felt the cooling and clammy hands of Mike, grabbing at him from the driver's seat. 

Evan managed to unbuckle his seatbelt, open the door and tumble out of the car to safety.

No sooner had he stood up, the resonating thunderclap of a high powered rifle from a nearby house proceeded an explosion of tarmac by his feet. He ran, carried blindly by andrenlaline, towards the nearby school; it was the largest structure by far in his immediate vicinity, and to a primitive mind Hell bent on fight or flight mechanics, it seemed the safest. 

Immediately he regretted his decision, almost slamming into the back of a horde of [i]them[/i] as they gathered around the outsides of what he thought to be the school's gymnasium. He spun on his heels, and darted back, only to find more blocking his retreat - drawn by the commotion of the crash and the gunshot. He looked for any way out of the nightmare, any way at all. An open door along the building's side provided just the escape he needed.

He bolted across the green, dodging grasping hands, and shoving aside clicking jaws, and threw himself through the door. He was on his feet in a flash, trying to close it - only to find that the lock had been shot through at some point. Realising he'd soon be bumped to top of Death's "to-do" list, he simply resolved to vanish into the maze of corridors he was presented with. 

He turned randomly at intervals, taking a left, then a right, sprinting past classrooms and offices, until he came to a sudden halt before a group of shamblers - no, not shamblers - PEOPLE! 

Moans echoing through the lifeless expanse of the school instantly inform Evan that the horde has followed him. No doubt they'll just stumble about the place until they find someone. 

If the group is going to move, then now would be the time to do it.