I've included my own challenge (to myself, that is!), and incorporated the 1st campaign challenge to also be about my current YA wip.
Swarming from all directions, they're on her. Pawing her, pulling her to the cold concrete, she crawls on her belly toward the light. The incessant moaning is everywhere. Above her. Behind her. Beside her. She retches from the rancid stench of decomposing flesh. Hurrying across the floor, she scurries like a cockroach. Grubby fingers fumble about her legs, her feet. Blindly searching. They smell her breath. They sense the life force pulsing inside her chest. The blood in her veins.
There, at the end of the hall, in a doorway, Heath waves his arms, beckoning her toward the light.
Pain rips through her right leg, and she screams, heightening their hunger. Reaching around, she swipes at her assailant. Its nails dig into the meat of her thigh. Its skin is sticky and moist, and she knows without looking, it is open flesh. Oozing, rotting flesh. She pulls free from its grasp, scrambling away.
"Laney! Hurry, c'mon!" Heath shouts.
He looks like an angel with the light haloed behind him. She picks herself up. A stabbing ache shoots up her thigh. They claw at her. She runs to the light.
...and the door swings shut.