The sun is setting now. Street lights are beginning to flicker to life haphazardly.
You muster up the breath for a few more cries for help. The noise to your north intensifies. You force yourself to stand so you can be spotted.
As you wrest yourself up against gravity, you gaze wearily towards the direction of the sounds. Your heart drops as you spot the line of lumbering figures crossing into the park. The few that are within the glow of working streetlights are a site to behold. Their pale, ashen skin is spattered with blood and their clothes are tattered. At the site of you, the crowd begins to shuffle forward with a greater sense of urgency. A few begin to screech or groan as they pick up their pace.
You can either retreat into the park or down the street.
What will you do?
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