Emergency Evacuation

It was a long while before the inhabitants of the decontamination chamber began to realise they were free; some were still furiously fucking, some had subsided into a sort of semi-conscious post-coital trance, while yet others were masturbating or otherwise engaging in almost ritualistic activity. One or two of the victims moaned and clutched at themselves pitifully, their genitals injured in the **** of their infection, while a few - the first true victims of the Cassandra virus - lay broken or bleeding on the ground.

The corridor normally led to a series of passages and non-critical labs, but with the facility on lockdown, every route but one was closed off. Once the Infected began to see that they had been released, they started off slowly down the corridor to the outside world. Then a scent hit them. And a sound. The sound of uninfected people. The sound of people to fuck.

Still touching themselves, still occasionally grabbing each other and falling to the ground in frantic coupling, the crowd picked up speed. Soon they began to run. And then sprint.

Outside, the evacuees waited for someone in authority to arrive and give orders. Grouped by lab, they stood with worried expressions, frightened glances passing between them. When the first semi-naked Infected emerged from the complex, gasps of shock quickly turned to cries of terror as they began to attempt to escape the courtyard.

Overhead, a helicopter began to observe what followed.