The entire building exploded.
Glass, debris and brick rained down on our heads, as if the world were officially coming down around us.
As if the Zom's weren't enough. As if being torn from my family - my parents, and friends, hadn't been enough. As if seeing those you trusted most being eaten alive, tortured or worse hadn't appeased whatver god that be. As if seeing my home in flames, lost to looters; ravaged by the lost and the free hadn't ripped open my every wound I'd gotten since this bloody outbreak started, wasn't good enough.
How much more will we lose before we're finally safe? Or until we finally give up?
Just how much can we - as the human race - take? We all break eventually.