Four men moved through the sewers, less by choice and desire then by necessity.  There had been a lot of commotion on the streets somewhere in the city, and the Infected seemed particularly riled up for it.  They had spotted the flash and column of an explosion and had been making their way towards it when they had been forced down here.  Red lense flashlights mounted to their weapons illuminated their surroundings without the light carrying too far to give them away, but the rain outside had turned the sewers into a constant roar of falling water, often knee deep or more in some places.<br/><br/>The sewers weren't a pleasant place before the Infection, and hadn't gotten any better even for the lack of fresh human waste.  Bodies could be found anywhere, Infected lurked in the strangest places, and barricades or naturally occuring blockages had caused entire sections to flood up to street level on days like today, making the going that much harder for the four men.<br/><br/>They moved quietly but with bold confidence, weapons always ready and heads always turning, and they covered ground easily.  What few Infected they found were often put down with a quick blow to the head before the poor sods knew what hit them, often the stock of a rifle or jab of an over-long knife to the ear.  But when they heard the distant echoe of crying, the four had frozen, almost seemingly in fear, taking a long moment to try and get their bearings compared to the source of the noise.  And then they were moving faster, in tactical bounds.  They knew exactly what that noise was.<br/><br/>Toby's situation had soured when he entered the sewers and found that unusual Infected.  His day would get stranger when red light filled the tunnel he was in, cascading around a bend some fifty meters back.  The light was bright enough to prevent Toby from getting a clear view of whomever the source was, but soon enough three such lights had entered his section of tunnel, one low to the ground on the right side of the tunnel, another above it, and the third to the left side.<br/><br/>The voice that called out was cold but apparently alive, muffled likely by a gas mask, "DOWN!"  He'd hardly get a second to respond before they started firing, wasting painfully rare ammo in short, controlled bursts that popped and wizzed off the walls or thudded into the Infected woman's flesh as if it were wood. Bleeding wood.  Each hit hardly slowed the thing down as it barreled down on Toby, eager to tear those living eyes from his face, to get rid of the horror, the pity, the fear or hatred it saw there.