Humans vs. Zombies: The Final Days Part 2

Day Two
More zombies, more dangers. The long walk across campus from class to class was the worst. I didn't want to be late and anger the moderators, but I couldn't just waltz down the main thoroughfare. I left Richardson apprehensively, trying to think of the best route to take.
'Hey!' A fellow survivor, Chris, stood on the walkway, a machete in each hand. He was taller than me, with blond hair and a relaxed composure. He was confident but wary, eyes darting from side to side. We fell into step side by side, walking quickly across campus. Not even a glimpse of a green headband was seen.
I should explain about the green armbands and headbands. At the beginning, when we first discovered the experiment and were quarantined, we decided to show whatever resistance we could against the government agents. We gathered in the Hub, the home of most of the survivors and the Original, and tore up all our green shirts. I tied a strip about an inch wide around my left arm, and declared, 'These armbands will signify our resistance against those who keep us here. When we are infected, we will tie them around our heads, to warn the other survivors of our approach. The moderators can do nothing to stop it, and it will be our last act of defiance.'
The room was hushed as each man and woman took their strip of green and tied it around their arms, the quiet sound of cloth rubbing against skin filling the silence. The Original, who indoors was more like his old, uninfected self, solemnly tied a wide piece around his head, nodding at the group of survivors before retreating to his room.
And so, the survivors had warning of any attacks, and were able to make a stand against the cruel powers that trapped us.
When I received the missive about Tuesday's mission, there were still many more survivors than zombies. I felt confident that we would survive, and gain the powerful weapon that would be our reward for holding our ground. It was another of the agents' experiments, to see how we would work together, and see what strategies we might deploy. We did not disappoint them.
The survivors' plan was to meet for dinner, then run to Ted's safehouse in Dean Eaton. There, we'd gather and make a strategy for gaining and holding the assigned flag, and see how many survivors we could muster. We were all confident.
Ted escorted me and another girl, Emily, to dinner before the mission. That itself was almost a disaster. We were ambushed by the Original and two of his cronies. Running like hell, we barely made it inside, Emily over encumbered with her instrument and backpack and Ted and I doing our utmost to make sure everyone stayed alive. It was a close call.
Nine survivors met at the safehouse, with the promise of more to come to our aid. Taking control, Ted assigned three of us, me, a girl named Sam, and Emily, to hold the flag, while the rest would kill any Undead in our path. The plan was simple: the kill team would run out and start attacking, and the flag team would follow and run to gain the objective. We split up in order to gain an advantage and trap the zombies between us.
The minutes ticked by, with the number of Undead increasing slowly and the moderators standing on the open field, waiting for us. Two minutes to go, and–
'No!' I yelled in horror as the other strike team left early, running towards the enemy. We had no choice but to follow. It was too early, our plans would all be for nought...
We gathered around the flag in a hodge-podge of sweat and frustration.
I yelled at the other team, 'What the hell were you think–'
'Raven!' Emily yelled beside me, distracting me. I turned to see a lone survivor, Raven, running towards the zombies, wielding only her gun. she stunned two as they closed in on her. Ted ran to the fray, shouting, 'Raven! Behind you!'
But it was too late. A zombie snuck up behind her and bit her. Ted retreated, and we gathered around the objective, our eyes downcast.
'For Raven,' I said, lifting my gun into the air. 'She sacrificed her life to take out the horde.'
In unison, the survivors lifted their guns into the air, and we turned as one to face the girl, dying on the ground, surrounded not by friends, but by the very ones who killed her. She lifted trembling hands to tie the green bandanna around her head, then saluted us. From a distance, we watched her give a final shudder and die.
A minute passed, then two. Raven's motionless corpse shuddered violently, and she began crawling to her hands, then her knees, then her feet. Her eyes glowed with the same infernal light as the others, and she was lost to the disease.
The zombies gathered in a huddle as we the survivors paced nervously, our weapons ever at the ready. Then, in a surprising move no one could have anticipated, the zombies left. We stood in confusion for the final five minutes, sure that they would attack from a different direction.
The moderators, without expression or congratulations, gave the most powerful gun we had ever seen to Ted, the eldest of the survivors. In an act of kindness, since he had his own trusted gun, he gave it to Sam. We would later learn how stupid that had been.