Feng Yizhou climbed onto the hood of the lead vehicle, scanning the route. He pointed ahead.
"That intersection, we take a hard left and cut through the service lanes. Facility's perimeter isn't far. We make it there, they can't follow."
"Got it!" The group fought their way back into the convoy.
Blood splattered on the windshields.
Tires screamed against pavement as they peeled away, the infected chasing for only a block before dropping off, unable to keep up with the speed.
By the time the gates of the facility came into view, the vehicles were dented, bloodied.
Several men were wounded. Yizhou's shirt was stained at the shoulder where one of the infected had clawed at him, it was shallow but painful.
They reached the checkpoint. Guns were drawn from the towers above until someone recognized the convoy.
"Open the damn gate" Yizhou barked out the window.
