Maria’s Point of View
I made my way to the holding cells in the police station. It wasn't designed for the number we had inside, which meant that the three who disagreed with drowning the police officers were let free, and some of the other, less violent criminals were as well. It still meant we had twelve people in the two holding cells, meant to house no more than two each. We had four cells, but two were on the ground floor, so we could only use the two above water level.
It stunk like shit and with the power and water off, it meant that we had to bring in and out buckets to get rid of their waste. I was now wishing that the man had killed more of them, so we didn’t have to take care of them. They were scum, if it was up to them, we’d all be drowned in water, but it wasn’t up to me whether they deserve to live or not.
I sighed as I was lost in my own head. The process of moving the buckets was tedious and disgusting. I absolutely hated this part of the job and was already upset that I had drawn the shorter straw again to have to do it. I was halfway up the stairs to the cells before I felt a splash of liquid cover me. I was too shocked to say anything as I knew what it was the moment it hit me.
I couldn’t feel anything as my heart beat in my ear from the searing hot rage I was going through, I walked up the rest of the steps before looking at the ugly man with the crooked teeth smile, looking at me. “No need to empty this bucket now. I already did it. You still have to do the other buc-.” I didn’t even wait for him to finish before I had my gun drawn and fired every single bullet it contained at the man. Everything had a red tint to it as I felt my heart beat in my chest.
By the time I regained my bearings, four of the men were dead in that cell, leaving only two alive. I was still shaking from anger at what had just happened. I had to leave because I was ready to kill them all. I fled before throwing myself down in the knee-high water at the bottom of the stairs. Tears of rage and indignation formed in my eyes as I could still smell it in my hair. It was going to take an hour-long shower for me to feel clean and…
We, unfortunately, didn’t have working showers. I was going to go to the man’s mansion, he was clearly preparing for this flood; those mansions must have working showers. A small part in the back of my head was making up any excuse to visit him.
Third Person Point of View
The prisoners all looked on in shock at the corpses the female police officer just left behind. None of them had thought that by the end of the day, a huge portion of them would end up dead. All of them were still wary of what had just happened, their bodies remaining tense after she left. That was why almost every single one of them saw a few of the corpses start to move again.
If they waited long enough, they’d be in trouble, especially if the zombies outnumbered them. Thankfully, the four who died were more out of shape, and two of them seemed to be slain outright. If they waited for the zombies to stand up and get their bearings, then the two trapped in the cell with them would be in trouble. None of these prisoners was soft-hearted; all of them were here for violent crimes. Both immediately began to ruthlessly beat the two corpses that began to move again.
With punches and kicks, they didn’t give the zombies time to fully settle before they were re-killed. Both had their hands and shoes covered in blood as they bashed and kicked away. Neither stopped until their bodies could no longer function, one zombie having its neck snapped while the other's chest was caved in. Both heaved from the sudden, violent exertions they just did to the zombies.
One of the smarter criminals yelled toward them. “The cores!” He lowered his voice before looking at the door. “Get the cores out of their heads.” It took them a fairly long time to do so. Digging cores out of someone's head was a tedious job, and that’s with the right tools to make it easier. They had to crack the skull with the only tools they had on themselves, their feet.
Both got to work stomping the zombie heads flat; even then, they had to be careful not to break the core inside. Thirty minutes of back-breaking work later, one of them managed to finally dig his out. The sinister smile on his face faded as he remembered that just touching them should give powers, but it didn’t when he grabbed one. Did that mean he couldn’t gain powers? Could only certain people gain powers?
His only alive roommate tried to snatch it from his hands. The moment he made contact, his body locked up. That let them know it was down to luck. The remaining prisoners quietly waited to see what would happen next. The one who just had the core stolen from him didn’t fight back, instead taking on a more subordinate position as he moved toward the wall while waiting for whatever was going to happen.
The prisoner breathed out and in as he cracked his back. “I think my hemorrhoids just healed. And my back.” He flexed and stretched as he felt the changes to his body. He hadn’t felt that good in years, not since he went to prison at least.” He walked over to the remaining zombie body with the core inside as his fingernails lengthened.
He made quick work of the zombie's skull, pulling out the fragments before diving back in. A minute later, he pulled a core out of the zombie. He felt like he could absorb it; an instinct was driving him to hold onto it… But if they didn’t escape now, they might never get the chance. He looked across at the six prisoners in the other cell before deciding that it was worth risking one of them getting a useless power over holding onto the core for whatever instinct was telling him to.
The biggest prisoner shooed them all away. He had been bullying them their entire stay so far, and if he didn’t have power, the balance inside the cell might change soon. The throw wasn’t perfect; it was a bit short, and if the man had to make any more contact than just touching the core with his bare skin, it might have been slapped away instead of grabbed.
He was one of the powered, though; the moment he came in contact with the core, his body locked up. If the room was silent before, now everyone held their breath in anticipation of what happened next. The prisoners waited as the man came out of the paralysis, looking at his hands.
The large man got to work right away. Both hands came together on a single bar of the prison cell. Wrenching with all his might, the bar started to deform. His impressive strength improved even further, giving him just enough to bend the metal bars.