It was like the one in the mall, but it just kept going without turning to the left or the right. Behind me Smith kept shooting and I would do the Parkour wall-run to dodge, but every time it would hit Jones at the opposite end of the hall. I kept running toward Jones’ face being exploded by bullets or then his heart would be torn from his chest. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t get away from Smith behind me and I never got to Jones ahead of me. The escape of the loading dock door was always just out of reach behind the man who died endlessly in front of me. Without warning the earth started shaking and drove us all to our knees. The bullets kept flying and Jones kept dying, but we were all trying to not fall over too. The floor, instead of being solid, felt like Jell-O and it moved at different times than the walls and ceiling. I stared at the corners looking for cracks to form, but they never did. Instead the joints of the hallway got stretched out like an old sweater. Wrinkles and sagging took the place of the sharp corners.
