"The balls on this guy! Thinking he actually had us! What a dick! We're survivors!! We're supposed to be in this together!!"
The angry gator glared at the corpse of the lupine that was bleeding out too quickly to do much of anything. His face paled, and his eyes grew foggy.
Alan's eyes lowered to the radio that skidded across the room.
"Well... whoever is on the other end of that radio is in for a rude awakening. They're better off going up against a whole hoarde of infected."
Suddenly, a soft creaking noise came from out in the hall.
Footsteps?
He waited, silently, hoping it would sound again to confirm his suspicion.
No such luck. There simply wasn't time.
Alan nearly jumped out of his scales as a very angry fur came charging at him from the doorway. With little time to react, he played it only as well as one could hope. He ducked from the knife flying at him, then, from the ground, thrust out with a powerful kick to the knee, snapping it instantly, and making the guy collapse in a screaming heap.
He looked around frantically, trying to find something to silence his screaming. A stray hat did just fine. The wounded feline didn't protest and, instead, bit down hard on the bit of headwear. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and agonizing groans of pain rushed from his flared nostrils.
Alan got to his feet and lifted his shotgun, feeling stupid for having been caught so off guard. He stood against the wall, and waited for any others that might try to rush the building.