was only one way to define my current situation, a dead end, that was what happened to me in that sport shop. The bodies began to gather around the broken windows of the room like a crowd that finds the first price of the season and the hand was me.
Gradually I could see them enter the building in an awkward and hesitant, not sure if I still had detected but at least it gave some of my location through his nose. While the fear I started to cross the neck as a cold sweat bath, the dog was holding my rmites were the subject of instinct murderer, what he was saying that his intelligence was less than an animal, but highly instinctive.
Suddenly the dog got loose from my embrace and ran straight to the crowd, in a few seconds I lost sight only to hear a plaintive cry, dammit these animals had been killed and I remained. I could not help shedding some tears for that dog since I was fond of and fate was not the best way to die.
was necessary to escape behind the sea of dead was the only way out for me through the windows to enter. Behind me was an emergency gate padlocked, ironically next to a rack of keys and Bench grinder.
In an instant hit among the strong aluminum shelves trance sack me, they were closer to me, whether to escape was the right time. With some caution I approach a stepladder and near a vent, the plan was as close as possible to the windows through the vents, although they wereallow me to move a bit stretched more or less freely.
The plan was good but not perfect, and that those killed would be together near the windows blocking out ferociously. From the shelves to take a shotgun and ammunition to fire some combustion; very quickly take a sock and stuffed my clothes as much ammunition and soak in the oxidizer to make a homemade explosive.
The aim was to cause the impromptu skirmish mayor clutter and distract my stalked, there was no other way was necessary to make this madness.
to run windows to escape. It was a matter of time, perhaps seconds that separated me from death, with an impulse throw me out the window falling to the floor of the street at the time that a bigger explosion smashed the place making it burn like a bonfire.
That changed my luck a little, hurt uncovered pieces of glass and fragments of bodies that escaped as projectiles in the blast I joined for weakly wandering like a hiding to heal my wounds.
dislocated shoulder hurt by them to give me spasms in the chest and back, was all my pain I decided to accommodate half of humanity thrown against a post, the coup was painful but at least the bone and cartilage were already in place.
