Time to go

Your Status: Unknown (Possibly Infected)

Your Equipment: Nothing, Intertwined Backpacks

Your Inventory: Pistol (??/??)

There's no time to waste, especially seeing as you didn't actually see a way out while you were exploring. Keeping your gun at the ready, you slip back into the hallway, heading the way you came. Your hands shake, and your knees threaten to give out with every step, but you will yourself onwards.

As you start to pass a nearly-empty room, you think you hear footsteps down the hall. Panicking, you duck into the room, pressing your bare backside against some cloth-covered objects against the wall, pistol pointed at the door. The object rocks as you bump into it, and you pray it won't fall over. A few tense, heart-pounding minutes pass, in which nothing happens, before you finally relax a tiny bit, and return to the dual puzzles of dodging whatever is down here, and finding an exit.

As you begin to step towards the door again, you suddenly realize the object shouldn't have rocked the way it did when you leaned on it. Spinning, you grab one of the objects, and give it a tug. It rocks, and even slides a bit, the slight scraping against the concrete making you promptly stop and spin to cover the door again. A few moments later, you turn back, and strain to see through the small gap you created. As you press yourself against the object, you feel a slight, cool draft waft across one of your breasts and your face, and you realize there's an opening behind the objects.